THE

ATLANTIC . MONTHLY .

A MAGAZINE OF

LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

BOSTON :
PHILLIPS , SAMPSON AND COMPANY ,
13 WINTER STREET.

LONDON : TRÜBNER AND COMPANY.

 1.6331
AP
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CORNELL
UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

Entered , according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by

PHILLIPS, SAMPSON AND COMPANY,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts .

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STEREOTYPED BY II . 0. TIOUGITON AND COMPIST .
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 CONTENTS .
Abbé de l'Epée, the, 700 .
Agassiz'sNatural History, 320.
Akin by Marriage, 94,229, 279.
Americao Antiquity, 769.
Aquarium , my, 428 .
Architecture,Domestic, 257.
Art, 601.
Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table, the, 48, 175,
312, 457, 614, 734, 871.
Battle of Lepanto, the, 138 .
Beccher, Henry Ward, 862.
Beethoven , 647.
Béranger, 469.
Birds and their Ways, 209.
Books, 343.
British Gallery in New York, the, 501.
British India, 85 .
Buchanan's Administration, 745.
Burr, Aaron, 697.
Button -Rose, the, 186 .
Carlyle, Thomas, 185.
Catacombs of Rome, the, 518, 674, 813.
Child -Lite by the Ganges, 625.
Cretins and Idiots, 410 .
Diamond Lens, the, 354.
Eben Jackson, 524.
Financial Flurry, the, 112 .
Florentine Mosaics, 12, 129.
Ghost Redivivas, the, 167.
Great Failure, the, 385 .
Grindwell Governing Machine, the, 576
Hundred Days, the, 641, 836.
Nlusions, 58.
India, British, 85.
Indian Revolt, the, 217 .
Intellectual Character, 791.
Jerrold, Douglas, 1 .
Journal to my Cousin Mary, 654, 651.
Kansas Usurpation, Review of the, 492.
Lepanto, the Battle of, 138.
L'Epée, the Abbé de, 700.
Librarian's Story, the, 897.
Loo Loo, 801. .
Mamoul, 386.
Manchester Exhibition, the, 33.
Maya, the Princess, 263.
Mourning Veil, the, 63 .
Music, 125, 634.
My Aquarium , 426.
My Journal to my Cousin Mary, 554, 651 .
New England Ministers, 485.
Notes on Domestic Architecture, 257.
Our Birds and their Ways, 209.
Pendlam , a Modern Rcformer, 70.
Persian Poetry, 724.
Pictures, Something about, 402.
President's Message, the, 371.
PrimaDonna, Who paid for the, 300.
Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay, the, 686, 821.
Queen of the Red Chessmen, the, 431.
Robin Hood , 156.
Roger Pierce, 776.
Round Table, thc, 121.
Saints, and their Bodies, 582
Sally Parsons's Duty, 24.
Solitude and Society, 225.
Something about Pictures, 402.
Spartacus, 288.
Ten, 446.
Tiffin of Paragraphs, 477.
Turkey Tracks, 149.
Welsh Musical Festival, 544.
Where will it End ? 239.
Who is the Thief ? 706.
Who paid for the Prima Donna ? 300 .
Wichern, Dr., and his Pupils, 567.
Winds and the Weather, the, 272.
POETRY.
Amours de Voyage, 419, 580, 667, 784.
Beauty, 675.
Brahma, 48.
Burying -Ground, the Old, 455.
Busis of Goethe and Schiller, the, 395.
By the Dead, 595.
Camille, 834.
Catawba Wine, 270.
Charlf's Death , 812.
iv.
Chartist's Complaint, the, 47.
Cornucopiii, 533.
Daybreak, 445 .
Darlight and Moonlight, 401.
Dilts, 47 .
Didactic Poetry, the Origin of, 110.
Epigram on J. M. 846.
Gift of Tritemius, the , 62 .
Goethe und Schiller, the Busts of, 395.
Gulden Milestone , the, 174.
Happiness, 693.
Karin , the Story of, 697.
Lucknow , the Relief of, 483.
Mercedes, 871 .
Milestone, the Golden , 174 .
Bly Portrait Gallery, 249.
Nest, the, 323.
Old Burying -Ground, the, 455 .
Origin of Didactic Poetry, the, 110.
Psyche, thy, 566.
Relief of Lucknow , whe, 483.
Roinmany Girl, the, 46 .
Sandalphon , 744.
Santa Filomena, 22 .
Sculptor's Funeral, the, 368.
Skipper Treson's Ride, 223.
Somets, 120, 500.
Story of Karin , the, 697.
Tacking Ship off Shore, 334.
Telling the Bees, 7:22.
Thy lsvche, 560 .
Two Rivers , 311 .
Wedding Veil, the, 376.
Wind un Stre :im , the, 148.
Word to the lisc, 861.
LITERARY NOTICES.
American Cyclopædia, the New, 766.
Anglais, les, et l'Inde, 253.
Bayne, Peter, Essays in Biography and Criti
cism , 122.
Beatrice Cenci, by Guerrazzi, 638.
Brazil and the Brazilians, 123.
City Poems, by Alexander Smith, 383.
Clerical Life, Scenes of, 890.
Comic and Humorous German Poetry, 255.
Contents.
Cyclopædia, the New American, 766.
Dante's Hell , by J. C. Peabody, 382.
De l'ere, Aubrey, May Carols by , 256 .
Dichtung, die deutsche komische und hu
moristische, seit Beginn des 16. Jahrhund
erts bis auf unsere Zeit, 255.
Dunglison's Dictionary of Medical Science,
890 .
Elements of Drawing, by Ruskin, 639.
Eté dans le Sabara, une, 384.
France au XVI. Siècle, Histoire de, 254.
Galleries and Cabinets of Art in Great Britain,
by Dr. Waagen, 765.
Gerinan Poetry, Comic and Humorous, 255.
Greyson Letters, the, by Henry Rogers, 122 .
Hamilton, Alexander, History of U. S. as
traced in the Writings of, 507 .
Hundbook of Railroad Construction , 378.
llandel, Schoelcher's Life of, 378.
Harford's Life of Michel Angelo, 510.
Helps's History of the Spanish Conguest, 877.
Homeopathic Domestic Physician, 250.
Hunt, Leigh , Poetical Works of, 124.
Kane, Dr. E. K. , Elder's Life of, 636.
Kratt und Stoff, von G. Büchner, 255.
Liberté, la, par Emile de Girardin, 254.
Library of Old Authors, Smith's, 760, 883.
Materie und Geist, von Büchner, 255 .
May Carols, by Aubrey de Vere, 256.
Michel Angelo Buonarotti, Harford's Life of,
510 .
Michelet, Histoire de France par, 254.
Norwège, la, par Louis Enault, 253.
Parthenia, by Mrs. Lee, 509.
Prudhomine, M. Joseph , Mémoires de, 254.
Reichspostreiter, der, in Ludwigsburg, 384.
Révolution Fr:monise, Histoire de l. , 254.
Roum :inia, by Jas. ( ). Noyes, M. D., 381.
Ruskin's Eleinents of Drawing, 639.
Sahara, une Eté dans le, 384 .
Scenes of Clerical Life, 890 .
Smith , Alexander, Ciry l'oems by, 383.
Sp :misli Conquest in America, the, 377.
Spurgeon, Rev. C. II ., Sermons of, 379.
Thüringer Naturen, von Otto Ludwig, 255.
Twin Ruses, 892.
Waagen, Dr. , Galleries and Cabinets of Art
in Great Britain by, 765.
Waverlev Xovels, 688 .
White Lies, by Charles Reade, 123.
 THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL . I. - NOVEMBER , 1857.-NO. I.

3

DOUGLAS JERROLD .

My personal acquaintance with Doug- Jerrold's Biography is still unwritten .

las Jerrold began in the spring of 1851. The work is in the hands of his eldest
I had always had a keen relish for his son ,-his successor in the editorship of
wit and fancy ; I felt a peculiar interest “ Lloyd's,” — and will be done with pious
in a man who, like myself, had started in carefulness. Meanwhile I cannot do
life in the Navy ; and one of the things more than sketch the narrative of his
poor Douglas prided himself on was his life ; but so much, at all events, is neces
readiness to know and recognize young sary as shall enable the reader to under
fellows fighting in his own profession. I stand the Genius and Character which I
shall not soonforget the dinner he gave . aspire to set before him .
at the Whittington Club that spring. St. Douglas William Jerrold was , I take
Clements had rung out a late chime be it, of South - Saxon ancestry,—dashed
fore we parted ; and it was a drizzly, with Scotch through his grandmother,
misty small hour as he got into a cab for whose maiden name was Douglas, and
Putney, where he was then living. I who is said to have been a woman of
had found him all I expected ; and he more than ordinary energy of character.
did not disappoint, on further acquaint- As a Scot, I should like to trace him to
ance, the promise of that first interview . that spreading family apostrophized by
It will be something to remember in after the old poet in such beautiful words,
life, that one enjoyed the friendship of so
brilliant a man ; and if I can convey to " O Douglas, 0 Douglas,
Tender and true ! "
my readers a truer, livelier picture of his
genius and person than they have been But I don't think he ever troubled him
able to form for themselves hitherto, I self on the subject; though he had none
shall be delighted to think that I have of that contempt for a good pedigree
done my duty to his memory. The last which is sometimes found in men of his
summer which he lived to see is now school of politics. As regarded fortune,
waning ; let us gather, ere it goes, the he owed every thing to nature and to
" lilies” and “ purple flowers ” that are himself ; no man of our age had 80
due to his grave. thoroughly fought his own way ; and no
VOL. I. 1
2 Douglas Jerrold . [ November,
man of any age has had a much harder markable experience seems to have been
fight of it. To understand and appre- bringing over the wounded of Waterloo
ciate him , it was, and is, necessary to from Belgium ; which imped on his
bear this fact in mind. It colored him mind a sense of the horrors of war that
as the Syrian sun did the old crusading never left him , but is marked on his
warrior. And hence, too, he was in a writings everywhere, in spite of a cer
singular degree a representative man oftain combative turn and an admira
his age ; his age having set him to wres- tion of beroes which also belonged to
tle with it, - having tried his force in him . To the last, he had an interest in
every way, -having left its mark on his sea matters, and spoke with enthusiasm
entire surface. Jerrold and the century of Lord Nelson. But the literary use he
help to explain each other, and had made of his nautical experience ended
found each other remarkably in earnest with “ Black-eyed Susan ." He was a
in all their dealings. This fact stamps boy when he came ashore and threw
on the man a kind of genuineness, visi- himself on the very different sea of
ble in all his writings, and giving them London ; and it is the influence of
a peculiar force and raciness, such as London that is most perceptible in his
those of persons with a less remarkable mature works. Here his work was done,
experience never possess. We are told, his battles fought, his mind formed ; and
that, in selling yourself to the Devil, it is you may observe in his writings a cer
the proper traditionary practice to write tain romantic and ideal way of speaking
the contract in your blood . Douglas, in of the country, which shows that to him
binding himself against him , did the it was a place of retreat and luxury,
same thing. You see his blood in his rather than of sober, practical living.
ink, -and it gives a depth of tinge to it. This is not uncommon with literary men
He was the son of a country manager whose lot has been cast in a great city,
named Samuel Jerrold , and was born in if they possess, as Jerrold did , that poetic
London on the 3d of January, 1803. temperament which is alive to natural
His father was for a long time manager beauty.
of the seaport theatres of Sheerness and He now became an apprentice in a
Southend ,—which stand opposite each printing-office, and went through the
other, just where the Thames becomes ordinary course of a printer's life. He
the sea. Douglas spent most of his boy- felt genius stirring in him, and he strove
hood , therefore, about the sea -coast, in for the knowledge to give it nourishment,
the midst of a life that was doubly dra- and the field to give it exercise. He
matic, dramatic as real, and dramatic read and wrote, as well as worked and
as theatrical. There were sea, ships, talked . It would be a task for anti
sailors, prisoners, the hum of war , the quarian research to recover his very
uproar of seaport life, on the one hand ; earliest lucubrations scattered among the
on the other, the queer, rough, fairy world ephemeral periodicals of that day. Plays
( to him at once fairy world and home of his might be dug out, whose very
world ) of the theatre. It was a position names are unknown to his most inti
to awaken precociously, one would think, mate friends. He scattered his early
the feelings of the quick -eyed, quick- fruit far and wide ,-getting little from
hearted lad. No wonder he took the the world in exchange. Literature was
sea-fever to which all our blood is lia- then a harder struggle than in our days.
ble , and tried a bout of naval life. At Jerrold did not know the successful men
eleven years of age he became a mid- who presided over it. He had no pa
dy, and served a short time — not two trons; and he had few friends. The
years in all — in a vessel stationed in the isolation and poverty in which he formed
North Sea. Naval life was a rough his mind and style deepened the pecu
affair in those days. Jerrold's most re- liarity which was a characteristic of
1857.] Douglas Jerrold . 3

these. They gave to his genius that reader, a small, delicate youth, with fair,
intense and eccentric character which prominent features,-long, thin hair ,
it has; and no doubt ( for Fortune has keen, eager, large, blue eyes, glancing out
a way of compensating) the chill they from right to left, as he walks the streets
breathed on the fruits of his young na- of Babylon , -and seizing with a quick im
ture enriched their ripeness, as a touch pulsiveness every feeling of the hour.
of frost does with plums. The grapes Still young,-- and very young,-be has
from which Tokay is made are left hang- married for love. He is living in a cot
ing even when the snow is on them ;-all tage or villakin on the outskirts of town,
the better for Tokay! where there is just a peep of green
His youth, then , was a long and hard to keep one's feelings fresh ; and he is
struggle to get bread in exchange for writing for the stage. It is hard work ,
wit ;-a struggle like that of the poor and sometimes the dun is at the door,
girls who sell violets in the streets. He and contact is inevitable with men who
was wont to talk of those early days don't understand the precious jewel he
very freely,-passionately, even to tears, weareth in his head ;—but the week's
when he got excited -and always brave- hard work is got through somehow ;
ly, heartily, and with the right " moral " and on Sundays he sallies forth for
to follow . When Diderot had passed a rural air with a little knot of friends,
whole day without bread, he vowed that and the talk is of art, and letters, and
if he ever got prosperous, he would save the world . So quick and keen a nar
any fellow -creature that he could from ture as his had immense buoyancy in
such suffering. Jerrold bad learned the it. Nay, for the very dun young Doug
same lesson. Through life, he took the las had an epigram ,-asbright, but not as
side of the poor and weak. It was the welcome, as a sovereign. A saying of
secret, at once, of his philosophy and his those early days has found its way into a
politics. He got endless abuse for his comedy ,—but not the less belongs to his
eternal tirades against the great and the authentic biography. A threatening at
“ respectable,” — against big-wigs of every torney shakes his fist at the villakin where
size and shape. But the critics who at- at the window the wit is parleying with
tacked him for this negative pole of his him. “ I'll put a man in the house,
intellectual character overlooked the Sir ! " “ Couldn't you ,” says Douglas,
positive one. He had kindness and (and of course the right-minded reader is
sympathy enough ; but he always gave shocked ,) “ couldn't you make it a wo
them first to those who wanted them man ? ” What a scandalous way to treat
most. And as humorist and satirist he a man of business ! Between Douglas
had a natural tendency to attack power, and the lawyers, for many years, there
--to play Pasquin against the world's was open war. He was a kind of Robin
Pope. In fact, his radicalism was that Hood to these representatives of the
of a humorist. He never adopted the Crown ,—adopting the plucky and defi
utilitarian, or, as it was called, “ philosoph- ant gaiety of the old outlaw, and shoot
ical,” radicalism which was so fashion- ing keen arrows at them withaa bow that
able in his younger days ;-not, indeed, never grew weak .
the Continental radicalism held by a The theatres were his regular sources
party in England ;-— but was an inde- of employment for many years, and he
pendent kind of warrior, fighting under wrote dramas at a salary. Tradition and
his own banner, and always rather with family connection must have led him chief
the weapons of a man of letters than ly to this walk ; for though he had some of
those of a politician. For the business the most important qualities of a dram
aspect of politics he never showed any atist, very few of his dramas seem likely
predilection from first to last. to live,-and even these are not equal
Well, then ,-picture him to yourself, to his works in other departments. The
4 Douglas Jerrold. [ November,
“ Man made of Money " will outlast ancient gods, we know, took the comic
his best play. His most popular drama, poet under their protection and avenged
_" Black eyed Susan ," — though clever, him . Was this a case of the kind,-or
pretty, and tender, is not, as a work of but a flying false anecdote ? I would not
art, worthy of his genius ; nor did he be certain ;-but at least, when Davidge
consider it so himself. In his dramas died one evening, and Douglas was in
we find, I think, rather touches of charac- formed of the hour, he remarked, “ I did
ter, than characters,-scenes, rather than not think he would have died before the
plots,—dixjecta membra of dramatic ge- balf-price came in ! " Sordid fellows are
nius, rather than harmonious creations of not safe from genius even in the grave.
it. He could not separate himself from his It spoils their sepulchral mmonuments, -as
work sufficiently for the purposes of the the old heralıls tore the armorial blazonry
higher stage. As Johnson says of “ Cato ," from plebeian tombs.
“ We pronounce the name of Cato, but His first fame and success, however,
–
we think on Addison,”!-So one may say were owing to the Drama; and though his
of any character of Jerrold's, that it sug- non -dramatic labors were greater and still
gests and refers us to its author. All the more successful, he never altogether left
gold has his head on it. To be sure, there the stage. I repeat, that I value his plays,
is plenty of gold ; and I wish somebody most, because they helped to discipline
would put his scores of plays, big and him for his after-work ; and I thank the
little, into aa kind of wine- press and give us theatre chiefly for ripening in its beat the
the wine. There is always the wit of the philosophic humorist. That was the real
man , whether the play bc “ Gertrude's character of the man . He tried many
Cherries," or “ The Smoked Mixer," things, and be produced much ; but the
or “ Fifteen Years of a Drunkard's Life,” root of him was that he was a humorous
or what not. That quality never failed thinker. He did not write first-rate plays,
him . He dresses up all his characters in or first-rate novels, rich as he was in
the elements of playwright and novelist.
that brilliant livery. But dialogue is not
enough for the stage, and compared with He was not an artist. But he had a rare
the attraction of an intense action is and original eye and soul,-- and in a pe a

nothing. Besides, Jerrold found the mod- culiar way he could pour out himself. In
ern taste for spectacle forming thirty short, to be an Essayist was the bent of
years ago. In his prefaces he complains his nature and genius. English literature
bitterlyof the preference of the public is rich insuch men,—inmenwhose works
for the mechanical over the higher at- are cherished for the individuality they
tractions of the art. And the satirical reveal. What the Song is in poetry the
war he waged against actors and mana- Essay is in prose. The producer pours
gers showed that he looked back withlittle out himself in his own way, and cannot
pleasure to the days when his life was be separated even in thought from that
chiefly occupied with them and their af- which he has produced. Jerrold's char
fairs. It may be mentioned here, that he acters in plays and novels are interesting
was very shabbily treated by several peo to me because they are Jerrold in mas
ple who owed fame and fortune to his querade.
genius. I have heard a curious story But none of us are just what we should
about his connection with Davidge, man- like to be. Fortune has her say in the
ager ofthe Surrey ,—the original,as I take matter; and as Bacon observes, a man's
it, of his Bajazet Gay. They say that he fortune works on his nature, and his na
had used Douglas very ill,—that Douglas ture on his fortune. Many a play Jer
invoked this curse upon him , _ " that he rold no doubt wrote when he would rather
might live to keep his carriage, and yet have been writing something else,-and
not be able to ride in it,” — and that it was so on , as life rolled by, and the day that
fulfilled, curiously , to the letter. The was passing over him required to be pra
 1857.] Douglas Jerrold . 5

vided for. His fight for fame was long pletely known in England till after the
and hard ; and his life was interrupted, establishment of “ Punch." An inde
like that of other men, by sickness and pendent and original organ just suited
pain. In the stoop in his gait, in the lines him , above all; for there he had the full
in his face, you saw the man who had play which he required as a humorist,
reached his Ithaca by no mere yacht- and as a self- formed man with a peculiar
ing over summer seas. And bence , no style and experience. “ Punch " was the
doubt, the utter absence in him of all 66
Argo ” which conveyed him to the
that conventionalism which marks the Golden Fleece.
man of quiet experience and habitual Up to the time of the appearance of
conformity to the world. In the streets, this journal, Jerrold had scattered him
a stranger would have known Jerrold to self very freely over periodical literature.
be a remarkable man ; you would have He had conquered a position. He had
gone away speculating on him . In talk, formed his mind. He had seen the
he was still Jerrold ;—not Douglas Jerrold , world in many phases, and besides his
Esq ., a successful gentleman, whose heart knowledge of London, had varied his ex
and soul you were expected to know perience of that city by a lengthened
nothing about, and with whom you were residence in France. Still, he had not yet
to eat your dinner peaceably, like any caught the nation ,—there being many
common man . No. He was at all times degrees of celebrity below that stage of
Douglas the peculiar and unique ,—with it; and now, in middle life, his best and
his history in his face, and his genius on crowning success was to begin.
his tongue, -nay, and after a little, with I believe that Jerrold had long desider
his heart on his sleeve. This made him ated a “ Punch " ; but it is certain that the
piquant; and the same character makes present famous periodical of that name
his writings piquant. Hence, too, he is was started by his son-in -law , Mr. Henry
often quaint,-a word which describes Mayhew. For a while it had no great
what no other word does,-always con- success, and the copyright was sold for
veying a sense of originality, and of what, a small sum to Messrs. Bradbury and
when we wish to be condemnatory, we Evans. Success came, and such a suc
call egotism , but which, when it belongs cess that “ Punch " must always last as
to genius, is delightful. part of the comic literature of England.
As he became better known, he wrote That literature is rich in political as well
in higher quarters. “Men of Character ” as other forms of satire ; and from various
appeared in “ Blackwood ,” — a curious col- causes, about the time of " Punch," politi
lection of philosophical stories ;—for artist cal satire was at a low ebb. The news
he was not; he was always a thinker. He papers no longer published squibs as they
had way of dressing up a bit of philo once had done. The days of the Hooks
sophical observation into a story very and Moores had gone by ; there was
happily. He had much feeling for symbol, nobody to do with the pen what H. B.
and, like the old architects, would fill all did with the pencil. So "· Punch ” was
things, pretty or ugly, with meaning. at once a novelty and a necessity, --from
When one reads these stories, one does its width of scope, its joint pictorial and
not feel as if it were the writer's vocation literary character, and its exclusive devo
to be a story -teller, but as if he were tion to the comic features of the age.
using the story as a philosophical toy. “ Figaro " (a satirical predecessor, by Mr.
And it was fortunate for him that he fell à Beckett) had been very clever, but
on an age of periodicals, a class of works wanted many of “ Punch’s ” features, and
which just suited his genius. He and the was, above all, not so calculated to hit
modern development of periodical lit- “ society ” and get into families.
erature grew up together, and grew Jerrold's first papers of mark in
prosperous together. He was never com- “ Punch ” were those signed “ Q.” His
6 Douglas Jerrold. [ November,
style was now formed , as his mind was, delicately all the part about the poor
and these papers bear the stamp of his actress is worked up ! How moral,
peculiar way of thinking and writing. how stoical, the feeling that pervades it !
Assuredly, his is a peculiar style in the The bitterness is bealthy, —healthy as
strict sense ; and as marked as that of bark . We cannot always be
Carlyle or Dickens. You see the self
“ Seeing only what is fair,
made man in it — a something sui generis, Sipping only what is sweet,"
-not formed on the “ classical models,"
but which has grown up with a kind of in the presence of such phenomena as are
twist in it, like aa tree that has had to force
to be seen in London alongside of our
its way up surrounded by awkward envi- civilization . If any feeling of Jerrold's
ronments. Fundamentally, the man is was intense, it was his feeling of sym
a thinking humorist; but his mode of pathy with the poor. I shall not soon
expression is strange. The perpetual forget the energy and tenderness with
inversions, the habitual irony, the min- which he would quote these lines of his
gled tenderness and mockery, give a favorite Hood :
kind of gnarled surface to the style, “ Poor Peggy sells flowers from street to street,
which is pleasant when you get familiar And — think of that, ye who find life sweet!
with it, but which repels the stranger, She hates the smell of roses ."
and to some people even remains per
manently disagreeable. I think it was He was, therefore, to be pardoned when
his continual irony which at last brought he looked with extreme suspicion and
a
him to writing as if under a mask ; where- severity on the failings of the rich. They
as it would have been better to write out at least, he knew, were free from those
flowingly, musically, and lucidly. His terrible temptations which beset the
mixture of satire and kindliness always unfortunate. They could protect them
reminds me of those lanes near Beyrout selves. They needed to be reminded of
in which you ride with the prickly-pear their duties. Such was his view, though
bristling alongside of you, and yet can I don't think he ever carried it so far as
pluck the grapes which force themselves he was accused of doing. Nay, I think
among it from the fields. Inveterate- he sometimes bad to prick up his zeal
ly satirical as Jerrold is, he is even before assuming the flagellum . For a
" spoonily ” tender at the same time; anil successful, brilliantman like himself,-full
it lay deep in his character; for this wit of humor and wit, eminently convivial,
and bon -vivant, the merriest and wittiest and sensitive to pleasure , the temptation
man of the company, would cry like a rather was to adopt the easy philosophy
child , as the night drew on, and the talk that every thing was all right,—that the
grew serious. No theory could be more rich were wise to enjoy themselves with
false than that he was a coldblooded as little trouble as possible ,-and that the
satirist,-- sharp as steel is sharp, from be- poor (good fellows, no doubt) must help
ing hard. The basis of his nature was themselves on according as they got a
sensitiveness and impulsiveness. His chance. It was to Douglas's credit that
wit is not of the head only, but of the he always felt the want of a deeper and
heart, often sentimental, and constantly holier theory, and that, with all his
fanciful, that is, dependent on a quality gaiety, he felt it incumbent on him to
which imperatively requires a sympa- use his pen as an implement of what he
thetic nature to give it full play. Take thought reform . Indeed, it was a well
those “ Punch " papers which soon helped known characteristic of his, that he dis
to make “ Punch " famous, and Jerrold liked being talked of as a wit.” He
himself better known. Take the “ Story thought (with justice) that he had some
of a Feather,” as a good expression of his thing better in him than most wits, and
more earnest and tender mood . How he sacredly cherished high aspirations.
1857.7 Douglas Jerrold . 7
"
To him buffoonery was pollution. He our Saviour for more money. " An im
attached to salt something of the sacred- aginative color distinguished his best
ness which it bears in the East. He was satire, and it had the deadly and wild
fuller of repartee than any man in Eng- glitter of war-rockets. This was the
land, and yet was about the last man that most original quality, too, of his satire,
would have condescended to be what is and just the quality which is least com
called a “ diner -out. ” It is a fact whichmon in our present satirical literature.
illustrates his mind, his character, and He had read the old writers, -Browne,
biography Donne, Fuller, and Cowley , -- and was
The “ Q." papers, I say, were the first tinged with that richer and quainter
essays which attracted attention in vein which so emphatically distinguishes
" Punch . " them from the prosaic wits of our day.
In due time followed his
“ Punch's Letters to his Son , ” and His weapons reminded you of Damas
" Complete Letter-Writer," with the cus rather than Birmingham .
“ Story of a Feather,” mentioned above. A wit with a mission,this was the
A basis of philosophical observation , position of Douglas in the last years of
tinged with tenderness, and a dry, iron- his life. Accordingly he was a little
ical humor, _all, like the Scottish lion ashamed of the immense success of the
in heraldry, “ within a double tressure- “ Caudle Lectures," — the fame of which I
fleury and counter- fleury ” of wit and remember being bruited about the Med
fancy,—such is a Jerroldian paper of iterranean in 1845, -and which, as social
the best class in “ Punch .” It stands drolleries, set nations langhing. Douglas
out by itself from all the others, —the took their celebrity rather sulkily. He
sharp, critical knowingness, sparkling did not like to be talked of as a funny
—the inimitable, man . However, they just hit the read
with puns, of à Beckett,-the
wise, easy, playful, worldly, social sketching English , always domestic in their
of Thackeray. In imagery he had no literary as in their other tastes,-and so 9

rivals there ; for his mind had a very helped to establish “ Punch ” and to
marked tendency to the ornamental and diffuse Jerrold's name. He began now
illustrative ,-even to the grotesque. In to be a Power in popular literature ; and
satire, again , he had fewer competitors coming to be associated with the liberal
than in humor -;sarcasms lurk under side of “ Punch, ” especially, the Radi
his similes, like wasps in fruit or flowers. cals throughout Britain hailed him as a
I will just quote one specimen from a chief. Hence, in due course, his news
casual article of his, because it happens paper and his magazine,—both of which
to occur to my memory, and because it might have been permanently successful
illustrates his manner. The “ Chroni- establishments, had his genius for busi
cle ” bad been attacking some artists in ness borne any proportion to his genius
whom he took an interest. In replying, for literature.
he set out by telling how in some vine This, however, was by no manner of
countries they repress the too luxuriant means the case . His nature was alto
growths by sending in asses to crop the gether that of a literary man and artist
shoots. Then he remarked gravely, that He could not speak in public. He could
young artists required pruning, and add- not manage money matters. He could
ed, “ How thankful we ought all to be only write and talk and, these rather
that the Chronic ' keeps a donkey ! ” as a kind
le of improvv isatore, than as a
This is an average specimen of his play- steady,reading, bookish man, like a Mack
ful way of ridiculing. In sterner moods intosh or a Macaulay. His politics par
he was grander. Of aa Jew money -lend- took of this character, and I always
er he said, that “ he might die like Judas, used to think that it was a queer des
but that he had no bowels to gush tiny which made him a Radical teacher.
out ” ;- also, that “ he would have sold The Radical literature of England is,
8 Douglas Jerrold. [ November,
with few exceptions, of a prosaic char- paper, started a magazine,-published
acter. The most famous school of radi- à romance ,-all within a few years
calism is utilitarian and systematic. of each other. The romance was “ A
Douglas was, emphatically, neither. He Man made of Money,” which bids fair,
was impulsive, epigrammatic, sentimental. I think, to be read longer than any of
He dashed gaily against an institution , his works. It is one of those fictions in
like a picador at a bull. He never sat which, as in “ Zanoni," “ Peter Schlemil,”
down, like the regular workers of his and others, the supernatural appears as
party, to calculate the expenses of mon- an element, and yet is made to conform
archy or the extravagance of the civil itself in action to real and every day
list. He had no notion of any sort of life, in such a way that the understand
economy.” I don't know that he had ing is not shocked, because it reassures
ever taken up political science seri- itself by referring the supernatural to the.
ously, or that he had any preference regions of allegory. Shall we call this
for one kind of form of government over a kind of bastard -allegory ? Jericho,
another. I repeat - his radicalism was when he first appears, is a common man
that of a humorist. He despised big- of the common world . He is a money
wigs, and pomp of all sorts, and, above making, grasping man , yet with a bitter
all, humbug and formalism . But his savour of satire about him which raises
radicalism was important as a sign that him out of the common place. Pres
our institutions are seasing to be pictur- ently it turns out, that by putting his
esque ; of which, if you consider his band to his heart he can draw away
nature, you will see that his radicalism bank -notes, -only that it is his life be
was a sign. And he did service to his is drawing away . The conception is
cause . Not an abuse, whether from the fine and imaginative, and ought to rank
corruption of something old, or the in- with the best of those philosophical sto
justice of something new, but Douglas ries so fashionable in the last century.
was out against it with his sling. He Its working -out in the every day part is
threw his thought into some epigram brilliant and pungent; and much in
which stuck. Praising journalism once, genuity is shown in connecting the tragic
he said , “ When Luther wanted to and mysterious element in Jericho's life
crush the Devil, didn't be throw ink with the ordinary, vain , worldly existence
at him ? ” Recommending Australia, of his wife and daughters. It is startling
he wrote, “ Earth is so kindly there, to find ourselves in the regions of the
that, tickle her with a hoe, and she impossible, just as we are beginning to
laughs with a harvest. " The last of know the persons of the fable . But
these sayings is in his best manner, and the mind reassures itself. This Jericho,
would be hard to match anywhere for with his mysterious fate , —is not he, in
grace and neatness. Here was a man this twilight of fiction, shadowing to us
to serve his cause, for he embodied its the real destiny of real money-grubbers
truths in forms of beauty. His use to whom we may see any day about our
his party could not be measured like that doors ? Has not the money become the
of commoner men, because of the rarity very life of many such ? And so feel
and attractive nature of the gifts which ing, the reader goes pleasantly on,
he brought to its service. They had a just excited a little, and raised out of
kind of incalculable value, like that of a the ordinary temperature in which fic
fine day, or of starlight. tion is read , by the mystic atmosphere
He was now immersed in literary ac- through which he sees things,—and ends,
tivity. He had all kinds of work on acknowledging that with much pleasure
hand. He brought out occasionally a he has also gathered a good moral. For
five-act comedy, full as usual of wit. He his mere amusement the best fireworks
wrote in “ Punch ,” — started a Dewg have been cracking round him on his
1857.] Douglas Jerrold .
journey. In short, I esteem this Jer- he found himself gradually and by a
rold's best book , -the one which contains natural momentum borne into , as he
most of his mind . Certain aspects of his advanced . He never suppressed a flash
mind, indeed, may be seen even to better of indignant sarcasm for fear of startling
advantage in others of his works; his the “ genteel ” classes and Mrs. Grundy.
sentimental side, for instance, in “ Clo He never aped aristocracy in his house
vernook ,” where he has let his fancy hold . He would go to a tavern for his
run riot like honeysuckle, and overgrow oysters and a glass of punch as simply
every thing; his wit in “ Time works as they did in Ben Jonson's days; and
Wonders,” which blazes with epigrams I have heard of his doing so from a sen
like Vauxhall with lamps. But “ A Man sation of boredom at a very great house
made of Money ” is the completest of indeed ,-a house for the sake of an ad
his books as a creation , and the most mission to which, half Bayswater would
characteristic in point of style, -is based sell their grandmothers' bones to a sur
on a principle which predominated in geon . This kind of thing stamped him
his mind , -is the most original in im- in our polite days as one of the old school,
aginativeness, and the best sustained in and was exceedingly refreshing to ob
point and neatness, of the works he has serve in an age when the anxious en
left deavour of the English middle classes is to
During the years of which I have just hide their plebeian origin under a mock
been speaking, Jerrold lived chiefly in a
ery of patrician elegance. He had done
villa at Putney, and afterwards at St. of the airs of success or reputation , —none
John's Wood , —the mention of which fact of the affectations, either personal or so
leads me to enter on a description of him cial, which are rife everywhere. He was
in his private, social, and friendly rela manly and natural,-free and off-handed
tions. Now -a-days it is happily ex- to the verge of eccentricity. Independ
pected of every man who writes of ence and marked character seemed to
another to recognize his humanity,—not breathe from the little, rather bowed
to treat him as a machine for the produc- figure, crowned with a lion -like head
tion of this or that scientific,or literary, and falling light hair ,-- to glow in the
or other material. Homo sum is the keen, eager, blue eyes glancing on either
motto of the biographer, and so of the side as he walked along. Nothing could
humbler biographic sketcher. Jerrold be less commonplace, nothing less con
is just one of those who require and re- ventional, than his appearance in a room
ward this kind of personal sympathy and or in the streets.
attention ;-80 radiant was the man of all His quick, impulsive nature made him a
that he put into his books ! so quick, so great talker, and conspicuously convivial,
warm , so full of light and life, wit and -yea, convivial, at times, up to heights
impulse! He was one of the few who of vinous glory which the Currans and
in their conversation entirely come up Sheridans shrank not from , but which a
to their renown. He sparkled wherever respectable age discourages. And here
you touched him , like the sea at night. I must undertake the task of saying
The first thing I have to remark, in something about his conversational wit,
treating of Jerrold the man, is the entire 80 celebrated, yet so difficult (as is noto
harmony between that figure and Jerrold riously the case with all wits) to do jus
the writer. He talked very much as he tice to on paper.
wrote, and he acted in life on the prin- The first thing that struck you was his
ciples which he advocated in literature. extreme readiness in conversation . He
He united, remarkably, simplicity ofchar- gave the electric spark whenever you
acter with brilliancy of talk . For in- put your knuckle to him . The first
stance, with all his success, he never time I called on him in his house at Put
sought higher society than that which ney, I found him sipping claret. We
10 Douglas Jerrold. [ November,
talked of a certain dull fellow whose “ There is no God, and Miss Martineau
wealth made him prominent at that time. is his prophet."
“ Yes,” said Jerrold, drawing his finger “ I have had such a curious dinner ! "
round the edge of his wineglass, “ that's said C. “ Calves' tails.” _ " Extremes
the range of bis intellect --- only it had
never any thing half so good in it." I meet,” Douglas said, instantly.
quote this merely as one of the aver- He admired Carlyle ; but objected that
age bons-mots which made the small he did not give definite suggestions for
change of his ordinary conversation . He the improvement of the age which he
would pun, too, in talk, which he scarcely rebuked. “ Here,” said he, “is a man
ever did in writing. Thus he extem- who beats a big drum under my windows,
porized as an epitaph for his friend and when I come running down stairs
Charles Knight, “ Good Night ! ” – has nowhere for me to go.”
When Mrs. Glover complained that her
A wild Republican said profanely, that
hair was turning gray,-from using es
sence of lavender (as shesaid), —be Louis Blancwas“ next toJesusChrist."
- On which side ? ” asked the wit.
asked her “ whether it wasn't essence of
thyme ? ” - On the occasion of starting a Pretty Miss the actress, being
convivial club, (he was very fond of such mentioned, he praised her early beauty.
clubs,) somebody proposed that it should " She was a lovely little thing," he said,
consist of twelve members, and be called “ when she was a bud, and " - ( a pause)
“ The Zodiac,” — each member to be _“ before she was a blowen '.” — This
named after a sign. “And what shall I was in a very merry vein , and the seri
be ? ” inquired a somewhat solemn man , ous reader must forgive me.
who feared that they were filled up. He called acquaintance
“ Oh,we'll bring you in as the weight rateur of his a small, thin,“ London litté
a pin without
in Libra," was the instant remark of the head or the point.”
Douglas. - A noisy fellow had long in
terrupted a company in which he was. When a plain , not to say ugly,
At last the bore said of a certain gentleman intimated his intention of
tune, “It carries me away with it.” being godfather to somebody's child,
“ For God's sake ,” said Jerrold, “ let Jerrold begged him not to give the
Bomebody whistle it. " - Such dicteria, as youngster his “ mug. "
the Romans called them , bristled over his A dedication to him being spoken of,
talk . And he flashed them out with an
- “ Ah ! ” said he, with mock gravity,
eagerness, and a quiver of his large, some “ that's an awful power that - has in
what coarse mouth, which it was quite his hands!"
dramatic to see. His intense chuckle
showed how hearty was his gusto for Carlyle and a much inferior man being
satire, and that wit was a regular habit coupled by some sapient review as “ biog
of his mind. raphers," _ " Those two joined ! ” he ex
I shall set down here some Jerrolvliana claimed . “ You can't plough with an ox
current in London , -- some heard by and an ass.”
myself, or otherwise well authenticated.
Remember how few we have of George ately “Is the legacy to be paid immcdi
? ” inquired somebody,-apropos of
Selwyn's, Hanbury Williams's, Hook's, a will which made some noise.— “ Yes,
or indeed any body's, and you will not on the coffin -nail," answered he.
wonder that my handful is not larger.
Being told that a recent play had been
When the well -known “ Letters ” of “ done to order,” — he observed, that " it
Miss Martineau and Atkinson appeared, would be done to a good many 6 orders,'
Jerrold observed that their creed was, he feared . "
1857.] Douglas Jerrold . 11
It may be honestly said that these are ever under his band. He was getting
average specimens of the pleasantries up in years ; but still there seemed many
which flowed from him in congenial to be hoped for him , yet. Though not
society. His talk was full of such, 80 active in schemes as formerly, he still
among friends and acquaintance, and talked of works to be done; and at “ Our
be certainly enjoyed the applause which Club,” and such- like friendly little associ
they excited. But in his graver and ations, the wit was all himself, and came
tenderer moods, in the country walks to our stated meetings as punctually as
and lounges of which he was fond, his a star to its place in the sky. He had
range was higher and deeper. For a suffered severely from illness, especially
vein of natural poetry and piety ran from rheumatism , at various periods of
through the man , —wit and satirist as he life ; and he had lived freely and joy
was,-and appeared in his speech, occa- ously, as was natural to a man of his
sionally, as in his writings. peculiar gifts. But, death ! We never
A long habit of indulgence in epigram thought of the brilliant and radiant
had made him rather apt to quiz his Douglas in connection with the black
friends. But we are to remember that he river. He would have sunk Charon's
was encouraged in this, and that a self- boat with a shower of epigrams, one
indulgent man is only too liable to have would have fancied , if the old fellow ,
the nicety of his sensitiveness spoiled with his squalid beard , had dared to ask
Certainly, he had a kind heart and good him into the stern -sheets. To moro
principles. He would lend any man than one man who knew him intimately
money , or give any man help ,-even to the first announcement of his decease
the extent of weakness and imprudence. was made by the “ Times. ”
This was one reason why he died no On the evening of the 16th of May, I
better off, and one reason why his met him ,—as I frequently did on Satur
friends have so much exerted themselves day evenings, —and on no evening do I
to pay a tribute to his memory in the remember him more lively and brilliant.
shape of an addition to the provision he Next Saturday, I believe, he was at the
had made for his family. The quickness same kindly board ; but some accident
of feeling which belonged to him made kept me away ;-I never saw him again .
him somewhat ready to take offence. But Soon after, he was taken ill. There
if he was easily ruffled , he was easily passed a wee k of much suffering . June
smoo thed . Offew men coul you say , had com , war and rainy , but our friend
d e m
that their natural impulses were better, or was dying The nature of the illness
that, given such a nature and such a for- might be doubtful, but there could be no
tune, they would have arrived at fifty- doubt that the end was near. He pre
four years of age with so young a heart. pared himself to meet it. He sent
The last literary event of any mag- friendly messages of farewell to those he
nitude in Jerrold's life was bis assuming
loved , begging, too, that if what he had
the editorship of " Lloyd's Newspaper."
ever said had pained any one, he might
This journal, which before his connection
now be forgiven. His mind was made
with it had no position to brag of, rose
up, and his children were all about him .
under his hands to great circulation On aа fine evening in the first week of
and celebrity. Every week, there you June, he was moved to the window , that
traced his hand at its old work of he might see the sun setting. On Mon
embroidering with queer and fanciful day, the eighth of that month, being per
sarcasm some bit of what he thought fectly conscious almost till the very last,
timely and necessary truth. Against all he died .
tyrants, all big-wigged impostors, black , The time is not yet come to discuss
white, or gray, was his hammer ringing, what his ultimate place will be in the
and sparks of wit were flying about as literature of his century. It will not be
12 Florentine Mosaics. [November,
denied that he was a man of rare gifts, and the acuteness with which his friends
and of a remarkable experience in life ; felt it said more than could be said in a
and his life and the popularity of his long dissertation for the kindly and love
writings will by and by help posterity to inspiring qualities of the man. As soon
understand this our generation. Mean- as it appeared that his family were left
while I shall leave him in his resting- in less prosperous circumstances than ·
place in Norwood , among the hills and had been hoped, their interest took an
fields of Surrey, near the grave of the active form . A committee met to or
friend of his youth, the gentle and gifted ganize a plan by which the genius of
Laman Blanchard , where he was laid on those who had known Jerrold might be
the 15th of June, amidst a concourse of employed in raising a provision for his
people not often assembled round the family. The rest has been duly record
remains of one who has begun life as ed in the newspapers, where the success
bumbly as he did . of these benevolent exertions may be
His death made a great impression ; read.

FLORENTINE MOSAICS.

1. try, elected himself king, and his wife

Electra queen ; built himself a palace,
HISTORICAL . with a city attached to it ; and in short,
The capital of Tuscany — according to made himself, generally, at home. We
its most respectable and veracious chron- are also fortunate in having some genea
iclers — is the oldest city extant. Its his logical particulars as to his wife's antece
tory is traced with great accuracy up to dents ; and it is to be regretted that
the Deluge, which is as much as could be modern historians, of the skeptical, the
reasonably expected. The egg of Flor- irreverent, and the startling schools, could
ence is Fiesole. This city, according to not imitate the gravity, the good faith,
the conscientious and exhaustive Villani,* and the respect for things established, by
was built by a grandson of Noah, Attalus which the elder chroniclers were inspired.
by name, who came into Italy in order The apothecaries of the Middle Ages
w to avoid the confusion occasioned by the never dealt so unkindly with the Pharaohs
building of the Tower of Babel.” | Noah of Egypt, as the historical excavators of
and his wife had, however, already made more recent times have done with the
a visit to Tuscany, soon after the Deluge; embalmed, crowned, and consecrated
so that it is not remarkable that “ King mummies which they have been pleased
Attalus " should have felt inclined to visit to denounce as delusions. Your Poti
the estates of his ancestor. At the same phars or your Mizraims, even when con
time, it is obvious that the Noahs had not verted into balsam , or employed as a
been satisfied with the locality, and had styptic, were at least not denuded of
reëmigrated ; for Attalus, upon his arri- their historical identity by the druggists
val, found Italy entirely without inhab- who reduced their time-honored remains
itants. He, therefore, with great propriety to a powder.
a
Their dust was made
claimed jurisdiction over the whole coun- merchandise, but their characters were
* Cronica . Lib. I. c. vii. respected. Moreover, there was an

f “ per evitare la confusione creata per la object and a motive, even if mistaken
edificazione della torre di Babel," etc. ones, on the part of the mediæval charla
1857.] Florentine Mosaics . 13

tans. But what ointment, what soothing of Jupiter, and grandson of Saturn . Now
syrup, what panacea has been the result we are quite sure that Noah never mar
of all this pulverizing of Semiramis and ried a daughter of Saturn , because that
Sardanapalus, Mucius Scævola and Ju- voracious heathen ate up all his children
nius Brutus ? Are all the characters except Jupiter. This simple fact pre
graven so deeply by the stylus of Clio cludes all possibility of a connection with
upon so many monumental tablets, and Saturn by the mother's side, and illus
almost as indelibly and quite as painfully trates the advantage of patient historical
opon school-boy memory, to be sponged investigation, when founded upon a rev
out at a blow , like chalk from a black- erence for traditional authority. Had it
board ? We, at least, cling fondly to our not been for such an honest chronicler as
Tarquins ; we shudder when the abyss of Giovanni Villani, our historic thirst might
historic incredulity swallows up the famil- have been tantalized for seven centuries
iar form of Mettus Curtius; we refuse to longer with this delusion. Certainly, to
be weaned from the she-wolf of Romulus. confound Tantalus, ancestor of all the
Your unbelieving Guy Faux, who ap- Trojans, with Attalus, ancestor of all
proaches the stately superstructures of the Tuscans, would be worse than that
history, not to gaze upon them with the “ confusion of Babel ” which the quiet
eye of faith and veneration, but only that loving potentate came to Florence to
he may descend to the vaults, with his avoid .
lantern and his keg of critical gunpow- Attalus brought with him from Babel
der, in order to blow the whole fabric an eminent astrologer and civil engineer,
sky -high,such an ill -conditioned trou- who assured him , after careful experi
ble -tomb should be burned in effigy once ments, that, of all places in Europe, the
a year. mount of Fiesole was the healthiest and
Electra, then, wife of Attalus, founder the best. He was therefore ordered to
and king of Fiesole, was of very brilliant build the city there at once. When fin
origin, being no less than one of the ished, it was called Fia sola, because of
Pleiades, and the only one of the sisters its solitariness ; Attalus, in consequence
who seems to bave married into a patri- of his participation in the Babel confusion ,
archal family. “The reason why the having become familiar with Tuscan sev
seven stars are seven is a pretty reason ”; eral thousand years before that language
but it is not “ because they are not eight," was invented. The city, thus auspiciously
as Lear suggests, but, as we now discover established, flourished forty or fifty cen
by patient investigation, because one of turies, more or less, without the occur
them bad married and settled in Tuscany. rence of any event worth recording, down
We are not informed whether the lost to the time of Catiline. The Fiesolans,
Pleiad, thus found on the Arno, was unfortunately, aided and comforted that
happy or not, after her removal from that conspirator in his designs against Rome,
more elevated sphere which she had just and were well punished for their crime
begun to move in. But if respectability by Julius Cæsar, who battered their whole
of connection and a pleasant locality be town about theirears , inconsequence, and
likely to insure contentment to a fallen then ploughed up their territory, and
star, we have reason to believe that she sowed it with salt. The harvest of that
found herself more comfortable than Lu- agricultural operation was reaped by
cifer was after his emigration. Florence ; for the conqueror immediately
Great care must be taken not to con- afterwards, by command of the Roman
found Attalus with Tantalus, -a blunder Senate, converted a little suburb at the
which, as Villani observes, * is often com- bottom of the hill into a city. Into this
mitted by ignorant chroniclers. But Tan- the Fiesolans removed at once, and found
talus, as we all very well know , was the son themselves very comfortable there ; being
* Cron . Lib . I. c. vii. saved the trouble of going up and down
14 Florentine Mosaics. [ November,
1
a mountain every time they came out to Christian purposes, had been the only
and went home again. Florence took its building to escape the wrath of Totila ;
name from one Fiorino, marshal of the but owing to the pagan incantations
camp, in the Roman army, who was practised when the town was originally
killed in the battle of Fiesole . As he consecrated to the god of war, the statue
was the flower of chivalry, his name was of that divinity would not consent to lie
thought of good augury ; the more so , as quietly and ignominiously in the bed of
1
roses and lilies sprang forth plenteously the Arno, while his temple and town
from the spot where he fell. Hence the were appropriated to other purposes.
fragrant and poetical name which the City The river was dragged. The statue was
of Flowers has retained untii our days; found and set upon a column near the
and hence the cognizance of the three edge of the river, on a spot which is
flowers -de-luce which it has borne upon now the head of the Ponte Vecchio .
its shield . Julius Cæsar, whose sword True to its pugnacious character, it
had severed the infant city from its dead brought nothing but turbulence and
mother in so Cæsarcan a fashion, had set bloodshed upon the town . The long and
his heart upon calling the town after him- memorable feuds between the Guelphs
self, and took the contrary decree of the and Ghibellines began by the slaying of 1

Roman Senate very much in dudgeon. Buondelmonte in his wedding dress, at

He therefore left the country in a huff, the base of the statue. (A. D. 1215.)
and revenged himself by annibilating vast There could be no better foundation
numbers of unfortunate Gauls, Britons, for romance or drama than the famous
Germans, and other barbarians, who hap- Buondelmonte marriage, before which,
pened to come in his way . sings Dante, Florence had never cause
The first public edifice of any impor- to shed a tear, and after which the white
tance erected in the city was a temple lily of her escutcheon was dyed red in her
to Mars, with a colossal statue of that heart's blood. There were four noble
divinity in the midst of it. This is the families in Florence, of surpassing im
present baptistery, formerly cathedral, of portance,-the Buondelmonti, the Uberti,
Saint John ; for the templc never was the Donati, and the Amidei. A match
destroyed, and never can be destroyed, making widow of the Donati has a
until the day of judgment. This we daughter of extraordinary beauty, whom
know on the authority of more than one she intends to bestow in marriage upon
eminent historian . It is also proved by the young chief of the Buondelmonti.
an inscription to that effect in the mosaic Before she has time to complete her
pavement, which any one may inspect arrangements, however, Buondelmonte
who chooses to do so . * betroths himself to a daughter of the
The town was utterly destroyed A. D. house of Amidei. Signora Donati way
450, by Totila, Flagellum Dei, who, lays him, as he passes the door, and
with great want of originality, imme- suddenly displays to him the fatal beauty
diately rebuilt Fiesole ; thus repeating, of her daughter. “ She should have
ha
been
but reversing, the achievement of the your bride,” said the widow, “ d you
Romans fire hundred years before. So not been so hasty.” The gentleman ,
Fiesole and Florence seem to have alter- dazzled by the beauty of the girl, and
nately filled and emptied themselves, satisfied by the prudent mother as to the
like two buckets in a well, down to the dowry, marries Signorina Donati upon
time of Charlemagne. That emperor the spot. Next day, riding across the
rebuilt Florence, but experienced some Ponte Vecchio upon a white horse, he is
difficulty in doing so, by reason of the beset by a party of friends and relatives
statue of Mars, which had been thrown of the deserted damsel, and killed close
into the Arno. The temple, converted by the statue of Mars. All the nobles
* Villani, Cron. Lib. I. c. xlii. of Florence take part in the question ;
1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 15

upon one side the Nerli, the Rossi, the from Bello Sguardo. The gentle, beau
Frescobaldi, the ; but “ courage, tiful chain of hills which encircle Flor
gentle reader,” as Tristram Shandy ob- ence smile cheerfully in the sunshine,
serves, in his famous historical chapter clapping their hands and skipping like
upon Calais ; “ I scorn it ; 'tis enough to lambs, if little bills ever did make such
have thee in my power ; but to make a demonstration. These environs of the
use of the advantage which the fortane town are like a frame of golden filigree,
of the pen has now gained over thee almost too fantastic a one for so sbadowy
would be too much ." and sombre a city. The green hill-sides
Thirty years long, then, the town gates and plains are sown thickly with palaces
were all fastened , and the streets all and villas glancing whitely through sil
chained , so as to make many little com- very forests of olives and myrtle; while
pact inclosures for slaughtering purposes ; the distant Apennines, like guardian
while the whites and blacks, Guelphs giants, lift their icy shields in the dis
and Ghibellines, red caps and brown, all tance .
buffeted each other pell -mell. To the The church is built upon the grave of
exhaustion thus produced of noble blood the eminent saint, Miniato . This per
is often ascribed the establishment of a sonage was, it seems, the son of the king
popular government at the close of the of Armenia , —very much as all the heroes
thirteenth century. The causes lay real- in the Arabian Nights are sons of the
ly much deeper, however ,-in the great emperor of China. Having been con
revolutions consequent upon the extinc- verted to Christianity, he was offered by
tion of the Suabian dynasty, and in the the emperor Decius great honors and
wonderful progress in culture made by rewards suitable to his royal rank, if he
the Florentine democracy. would renounce his faith. (A. D. 250.)
O Buondelmonte, quanto mal fuggisti He refused, and the emperor cut off his
Le nozze sue per gli altrui conforti ! head . The execution took place in
Molti sarebber lieti, che son tristi, Florence, on the north side of the Arno.
Se Dio ľavesse conceduto ad Ema The holy man was not so easily disposed
La prima volta ch'a città venisti. of, however ; for he immediately clapped
Ma conveniasi a quella pietra scema
Che guarda il ponte , che Fiorenza fesse his head upon his shoulders again, and
Vittima nella sua pace postrema. holding it on with both hands, waded
Con queste genti, e con altre con esse , across the river, and marched steadily
Vid' io Fiorenza in sl fatto riposo , up the hill on the other side. Arrived at
Che non avea cagione onde piangesse. the top, he gave up his head and the
Con queste genti vid' io glorioso ghost. Hence the convent and church
E giusto il popol suo tanto, che 'l giglio of San Miniato .
Non era ad asta mai posto a ritroso ,
Nè per division fatto vermiglio. The church, to an architectural student,
Paradiso, XVI. 140–154. is interesting and important. A man
needs a good eye and a good education
II. to feel and thoroughly appreciate the
grand symphonies which this wonderful
SAN MINIATO. architectural music of the Middle Ages
The walk to the church of San Mini- has so long been silently playing. San
ato is a paved, steep path, through olive Miniato belongs to the close of the
orchards fringed by a row of cypresses, Romanesque or Latin period. The early
to the little church of San Salvadore ; Christian school had expired in the midst
thence, through a garden of roses and · of the general convulsions of the ninth
cabbages, fresh and fragrant in the De- and tenth centuries, —in the struggles of
cember sun, to the convent of Miniato. an effete and expiring antiquity with
From the terrace is one of the best views the brutal, blundering, but vigorous in
of the city ; not so fine, however, as that fancy of mediæval Europe. During the
16 Florentine Mosaics. [ November,
three centuries which succeeded, there in another he is miraculously mending
was rather a warming into unnatural life a crockery jug belonging to his nurse ;
of the mighty corpse, than the birth of a and in a third he is unsuccessfully at
new organism , capable of healthy exist- tempting to move a large stone, upon
ence and unlimited reproduction. The which the Devil has seated himself, much
Romanesque art seems to have dealt to Benedict's discomfiture. The fiend is
with the ancient forms, without moulding drawn, con amore, in black, with hairy
any thing essentially and vitally new. hide, bat's wings, and a monkey's tail ;
Where there seemed Originality, it was, the traditional Devil who has come down
after all, only a theft from the Saracenic to us unbarmed through all the vicissi
or Byzantine, and the plagiarism became tudes of the Middle Ages. The saints
incongruity when engrafted upon the and friars are generally attired in maz
Roman . Thus a Latin church was often arine blue.
but an early Christian basilica with a
Moorish arcade. III.
The San Miniato has an arcade, of
ACADEMY OF THE FINE ARTS.
course not pointed, upon the facade and
the interior. Its tessellated marble work, There is here a large hall, containing
its ancient mosaics, with its Roman capi- a brief chronicle of the progress of paint
tals and columns, all make it interesting. ing from Cimabue to Carlo Dolce !
.

These last show that at the close of the There may be a still deeper descent; but
epoch, even as at its beginning, the chain that is bathos sufficient for any lover of
which binds the school to the ancient his species.
Roman is fastened anew . It is desirable to look at these painters
The frescos in the sacristy, by Spi- of the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth
nello Aretino, painted at the end of the centuries with some reference to the
fourteenth century, are singularly well political condition of Florence and of
preserved ,-. -fresh as if painted yesterday. Italy at that time. In truth,, Florence
' Tis a great pity that the works of other during the period of its life was Italy ,
masters of the same age, Spinello's the vivida vis, creative, contemplative,
superiors, could not have been as fortu- ornative, impulsive to the clay of Eu
nate. If the frescos of Orgagna, and of rope. The art of painting seems to
Benozzo Gozzoli in the Campo Santo at spring full-grown into existence, with the
Pisa, were in as good condition, it would appearance of Cimabue in the latter part
be much more satisfactory. of the thirteenth century. Even so the
These pictures of Spinello are drawn Italian language suddenly crystallizes
with much boldness and energy, but it is itself into a brilliant and perpetual type,
not the fortunate audacity of Orgagna. at the same epoch as the wondrous
They are much more the work of a poem of Dante flashes forth from the
mechanic, not self-distrustful, but with brooding chaos, —the fiat lux of a new
comparatively little feeling for the higher intellectual world.
range of artistic expression . They are The Emperor Frederic II., last of the
quite destitute of sentiment, but are not imperial Hohenstaufens, died in 1250.
without a strong, rough, hardy humor. Chivalrous, adventurous, despotic, as be
The drawing is far from accurate, but came the head of the conquering Ger
the coloring is well laid on. They repre- man races at their epoch of triumph,
sent the life and adventures of Saint -imaginative, poetical, debauched , athe
Benedict, are of colossal size, and depict istical, as might be expected of a prince
the saint in various striking positions. born in Italy, he seemed to justify the
Here he is portrayed as rescuing a broth- somewhat incongruous eagerness with
a

er friar from the inconveniences result- which the Florentine mind sought politi
ing from a house having fallen upon him ; cal salvation in the bosom of the Church.
1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 17

Yet here seems the fatal flaw in the merits of style can hardly be exaggerated.
liberal system of Italy at that period. Alone of mankind he almost created a
The Ghibelline party was at least con- language. Imagine the English, or the
sistent. To be an imperialist, a Hohen- German , or the French poetry of the
staufenite, was at least definite ; as much year 1300 flowing musically and famil
80 as to be an absolutist, a Habsburgite, a iarly from the lips of 1857 ! The culture,
Napoleonite to-day. But to be a Guelph, too, of his epoch might almost be meas
-to be in favor of municipal develop- ured by his personal accomplishments.
ment, local self-government, intellectual The Aristotle, the Bacon, the Humboldt
progress, and to fight for all these things of Florence was one of the world's great
under the banner of the Church, in an poets into the bargain ; but he was any
age which witnessed the establishment of thing but a statesman or a politician.
the Inquisition, in an age when the In his poetry, accordingly, written when
mighty spirit of Hildebrand was rising the Florentine democracy was young, vig
every day from his grave in more and orous, and mischievous, there is no chord
more influential and imposing shape , of sympathy with the polity of his native
this was to place one's selfin a false posi- place. On the contrary, the whole mag
tion. Dante, no doubt, felt all this to nificent “ Commedia ” is a De profundis
the core of his being. A poet by nature, chanted out of an oppressed and scorn
with that intense, morbid, proud, uncom- ful bosom , a fiery protest, an excoriating
fortable, alternately benevolent and mis- satire against the liberty upon which the
anthropical temperament which occasion- Commonwealth prided itself. Florence
ally accompanies the poetic faculty, he banished and would have burned her
had little in common with the bustling, poet. The poet banished and burned
vivacious character of his fellow -towns Florence in the great hell which his
men . Fiorentino di nascita , non di cos- imagination created and peopled. His
tumi, as he describes himself, he had ashes ,-30 often and so vainly implored
slight sympathy with Blacks or Whites, for by the repentant and sorrowing moth
Guelphs or Ghibellines. A Guelph byer, who had driven him from her bosom
birth, a Ghibelline by banishment, he with curses, to wander and to starve,
was in reality an absolutist in politics, “ to eat the bitter bread of exile, and to
and a bigot in religion. Had a hell feel that sharpest arrow in the bow of
never been heard of, he would have exile, the going up and down in another's
invented one , for the mere comfort of house,” — his ashes are not the property
roasting his enemies in it, and his friends of the Republic. Are his laurels ? Yes.
along with them , —the solitary enjoy . The “ Divina Commedia " is a splendid
ment of his lifetime. His part in public proof of the vitality which pervades a re
affairs has been much magnified. He publican atmosphere. There was little of
was prior in 1300 ; but almost any citizen justice perhaps, and less of security and
of Florence might be prior. He was comfort; but there was at any rate life,
once sent to Rome, on a diplomatic er- intellectual development, thought, pulsa
rand ; but he was only the envoy of a tion, fierce collision of mind with mind,
party, only one of a set of delegates attrition of human passions and divine
appointed by the Whites. He was ban- faculties, out of which an elemental fire
ished for his political opinions, and after- was created which flamed over the civil
wards condemned to death ; but even ized world , and bas lighted the torches of
this was no distinction ; for six hundred civilization for centuries. He who would
other persons, most of them obscure men, study the artes humaniores must turn of
were included in the same sentence, for necessity to two fountain heads; and
the same offence. They all happened, he finds them in the trampled market
in short, to belong to the party opposed places of two noisy, turbulent, unreason
to the one which was successful. His able, pestilent little democratic cities, –
VOL. I. 2
18 Florentine Mosaics. [November,
Athens and Florence. Extinguish the executed. Dominic Ghirlandaio, two 1
architecture and the sculpture, the poetry hundred years later, could hardly have
and the philosophy of Attica ; obliterate put more masculine expression into a
from the sum of civilization the names of quartet of heads.
Dante, Boccaccio, Petrarch, Machiavelli, Giotto's Madonna is the pendant to that 10

- of Cimabuc, Giotto, Leonardo da Vinci, of Cimabue; but although painted twenty LO

Brunelleschi, Michel Angelo ,—of Brunet- five years later, it shows less progress in
to, Ficino, Politian ; and how much di- art than might be expected. Giotto's tri
minished will be the remainder ! umphs are to be found in the frescos of the
Nevertheless, it is in vain to look for Santa Croce. In that unequalled series,
any special seal set by the spirit of lib- the art-student recognizes, almost at a
erty upon the artistic productions of the glance, the power of the master. Largo
earlier age in Florence. The works of ness, rhythm , and harmony of composi
the great painters bear the impress of the tion , -dramatic movement, and individual
Church. If the spirit of liberty be present beauty of expression ,-heads which have
at all, it is veiled and hooded by monas- brains, eyes which can smile, lips which
tic garments. But it should never be can speak, Auent limbs which can move,
>

forgotten, that, in this age, the Church or remain in natural repose,—the whole
embodied' an element of liberty. The surrounded and inspired by that at
keys of Saint Peter were brandished mosphere of piety, that effluence of relig
against the universal sceptre of the Sua- ious ecstasy, which can never be imitated ,
bians; cultivated intellect was matched and which came from the unquestioning
and often successfully, against brutal faith of the artist ;-such wonders were
violence. The Pope was the rival of for the first time revealed by Giotto.
Cæsar. The shepherd boy, whom Cimabue found
The first great painting in the Acad. drawing pictures upon a stone in the open
emy — to return from this digression — is field, nobly repaid his patron and master,
the famous Madonna of Cimabue. This by extending still farther the domain of
picture is astonishing. Although con- art - by throwing its doors wide open
sidered by many critics to manifest to the cool breath of nature and the
lingering traces of the Byzantine band- liberal sunshine. To pass from the By
ages, it seems to us, on the contrary, to be zantines into the school of Giotto is to
wonderfully free from stiffness and con- come out from the catacombs into the
ventionality. The genius of Cimabue warm precincts of the cheerful day.
extricates itself at a bound from the Of the pictures of the early part of the
trammels of preceding systems, and flies fifteenth century, none are more worthy
vigorously towards nature. of attention in this collection than those
The Madonna is colossal. She wears of Fra Angelico of Fiesole. (1387-1455.)
a hood , and holds her child in her arms. Nevertheless, it seems no great progress
There is a strong human, yet spiritualized from Cimabue, Giotto, and Orgagna,
expression upon the face. The drapery whose compositions are so full of ener
is gracefully arranged, not folded like getic life and human passion, to these
mummy cloths; and the color is strong careful, gentle miniatures upon an ex
and liberally laid on , without any attempt, panded scale . The Fra was a minia
however, at transparency of shadow . tore, after all, -a manuscript illuminator
There is little indication of the technical of the first class. His effort to represent
glories of succeeding centuries. Per- a descent from the cross in a large and
haps the best part of the picture is in the dramatic manner is feeble and flat. This
lower margin. Here are four heads of flight seems beyond his strength ; and his
-saints, painted with a breadth and en- waxy little wings, which sustained him so
ergy absolutely startling, when one rec- well within his own sphere, melted at
ollects by whom and when they were once in this higher region.
 1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 19

Far better is an exquisite little picture ofthe three kings, in particular ,-a young,
in his very best manner, a work which well-dressed, vivacious, goguenard -look
hangs in the apartment De' Piccoli ing personage, with a very glittering pair
Quadri. This is a Judgment Day, and of spurs, which his groom is just unbuck
a cheerful painting of its class. There is ling, while another holds a highly bediz
an old conceit, very cleverly carried out ened war-horse, who is throwing up his
through the whole composition, of repre head , showing all his teeth, and crying
senting all the just made perfect as ha, ha, with all his might,-- has a very
actually converted into little children . dramatic effect
Kings with crowns, popes, bishops, cardi- Of the Lippo Lippis, the Lorenzo di
pals in hats and mitres, monks cowled Credis, the Ghirlandaios, the Peruginos,
and robed in conventual habiliments, are and the other great masters of the fif
all philandering together through gar- teenth century, of whom are many mas
dens of amaranth and asphodel towards terpieces in this collection, there shall,
the Grecian portico of heaven ; and all for the present, not a word be said .
these fortunate personages, whether mon- There is also a portrait of Savonaro
archs, priests, fine ladies, or beggars, are la, by Fra Bartolommeo. The face is
depicted with perfectly infantine faces neither impressive nor attractive. The
To do this well lay exactly in the quaint, head is shorn, except the monastic cor
delicate nature of the angelic Frater ; onal, and shows a small organ of benevo
a

and this portion of the picture is most lence, and a very large one of self-esteem .
exquisitely handled . The other moiety, The profile is not handsome, —the nose
where devils with rabbits' ears, tiger being regularly aquiline, while the mouth
faces, and monkeys' tails, are forking is heavy with a projecting upper lip. A
over the damned into frying -pans, while strong, blue beard, closely shaven, but
Satan devours them as fast as cooked , very visible, darkens and improves the
is common -place and vulgar. At the physiognomy.
same time, it is certain that the whole
composition shows much poetry of inven IV .
tion and delicacy of finish.
SANTA MARIA NOVELLA .
Andrew Castagno's Magdalen , like
Donatello's Wooden Statue of the same This church was so beloved by Michel
penitent in the Baptistery, seems a fe Angelo as to be called his bride. It must
male Robinson Crusoe,-hirsute, cadaver- be confessed that the great artist was
ons, fleshless, uncombed and uncomely , determined in his choice less by the ex
certainly a more edifying spectacle than ternal charms than by the interior excel
the voluptuous, Titianesque exhibitions lence of his sposa ; for although she has
of fair frailty which became the fashion now got herself a new front and vamped
afterwards. herself up a little, thus looking a trifle
Of Gentile da Fabriano, a very rare younger than she must have done three
master, there hangs an Adoration of the hundred years ago ,still she has any thing
Magi, marked May, 1423. One always but aa bridal or virginal aspect.
feels grateful to such of the Quattrocen- This church and monastery belong to
tisti as enlarged the sphere of artistic the earlier German period of Italy , if
action , by going out of the conventional such a thing as Italian Gothic can be said
circle of holy families, nativities, and en- to have ever existed . The truth is, that
tombments. There is aa dash about Gen- with the exception of Milan cathedral,
tile, a fresh, cavalier -like gentility, quite which is modern, exotic, and exceptional,
surprising, and altogether his own . A the German, or, to use the common and
showy, fippant frivolity in several of the senseless expression, the Gothic system
figures enlivens and refreshes us with of architecture never fairly took root in
its mundane sparkle and energy. One Italy. Certainly, the pointed windows
20 Florentine Mosaics. [November,
and arches of the Florence duomo and the elder is already foreshadowed, even
its campanile do not constitute it aa Gothic while the new has apparently gained
church. The square cornices, vast masses the ascendency. Why was this ? Be
of wall, heavy pilasters, and, in general, cause in Italy the German conquerors
the horizontal outlines and heavy expres- had invaded the land of ancient culture,
sion of all these churches, have a char- of settled and organized form . The
acter very remote from that of the airy, world could not be created de novo, as in
upspringing, fantastic German architec- the shaggy deserts of Hercynia and Bel
ture, in which every shaft, arch, vault- gica. The seeds ofhuman speech, planted
girdle, pillar, window -frame, pinnacle, in those vast wildernesses, sprouted readily
seems struggling and panting upward into new and luxuriant languages. Eng
with an almost audible eloquence. This lish, Flemish, German, French spring
is not the expression of the duomo here. from German roots hidden in Celtic soil.
There is no perpetual Excelsior ring. The Latin element, afterwards engrafted,
ing from point, spire, and turret. On is exotic, excrescent, and not vital to the
the contrary, the grave, almost rigid organization. In Italy, where a language,
aspect of the ancient basilica — the Ro a grammar, a literature already existed
man business -bal, compounded of Greek in full force, the German element was
elements, and transformed into a Grecian almost neutralized . The Goths could
temple — is ever at work repressing that only deface the noble language of Rome.
devotional ecstasy which is the character. They gave it auxiliary verbs, —that fee
istic of the Gothic church . The Italian blest form of assistance to human elo
language in the thirteenth and fourteenth quence,, -- and they took away its declen
centuries was like the Italian architecture sions. Architecture presented the same
of the same period. The different intel phenomenon. It submitted to what
lectual manifestations, subjected to the seemed the German tyranny for a time,
same influences, obeyed one general law . but it submitted under a perpetual and
The conquering German mind of the visible protest. * The Gothic details in
Dark Ages easily impressed itself where the campanile and the duomo look alto
the soil was still virgin. Throughout sav- gether extraneous and compulsory ; they
age Europe the dominion was yielded at are not assimilated into the constitution
once to the new power which succeeded of the structure. The severe Roman
to the decrepit empire of Rome. Gaul, profile is marked as distinctly as ever,
Germany, Britain, Iberia obeyed instinct notwithstanding the foreign ornaments
ively the same impulse. The children which it has been forced to assume.
born of that vigorous embrace were of Santa Maria Novella, then, is as good a
fresh and healthy beauty. The manifes- German Italian church as can be found ;
tations of the German mind in the cathe- but, for the reasons stated , it is not par
drals of Paris, Cologne, Antwerp are ticularly interesting as a piece of archi
undimmed and unrivalled. The early tecture. Its wealth is in its frescos. In
German architecture in the actual realms the quadrangle of the cloister is a series
of Germany is as romantic, energetic, and of pictures by Paolo Uccello, who, by the
edifying as its poetry at the same epoch. introduction of linear perspective, of
A great German cathedral is a religious which he is esteemed the inventor, made
epic in stone. All the ornaments, all the a new epoch in art. In the “chapel of
cpisodes, spring from and cluster around the Spaniards ” is aа famous collection of
one central, life-giving principle. frescos by Giotto's scholars . A large,
In Italy, on the other hand, the archi- thoughtful, and attractive composition is
tecture of the so -called Gothic period called the Wisdom of the Church. On
embodies a constant struggle between the opposite side is a very celebrated
the ancient and the new - born mind , -a * Compare Kugler, Kunstgeschichte, pp.
contest in which the eventual triumph of 590, 591 .
1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 21

painting, entitled the Church Militant -a view of paradise - is full of energet

and Triumphant; the militating and tri- ic and beautiful figures, combined with
umphing business being principally con- much dramatic effect and great technical
fided to the dogs of the Lord ,, videlicet, skill. The opposite pictures, represent
Domini-canes. A large number of this ing hell, were not by Andrew , but by
dangerous fraternity is represented as a Bernard Orgagna, a man of far inferior
pack of hounds, fighting, pulling, biting, calibre. They have, moreover, been en
and bowling most vigorously in a life- tirely revamped.
and -death -struggle with the wolves of In the choir are the renowned frescos
heresy. In the centre of the composition of Dominic Ghirlandaio-sce , nes from
are introduced various portraits. These the lives of John the Baptist and the
were thought for a long time to repre- Virgin Mary. These , however, are but
sent Cimabue ( in a white night-cap ), names and frames. The great merit of
Petrarch (in long petticoats ), Laura (in these paintings is that they were the first,
short ones), and various other celebri- or among the first, to introduce the actual
ties. Vasari is the original authority into the world of conventional and con
on,
for this opini which has cease d to be ventual art. They form a series of full
entertained by cognoscenti. It is also length portraits, sometimes ofcelebrated
no longer believed that the pictures are contemporaries, as Politian , Marsilio Fi
the work of Taddeo Gaddi and Simon cino, and others,—but always of flesh
Memmi. The custode clings to both de- and -blood people, living, moving, and
lusions, —the portraits and the painters. having a being. That group of Platonists,
Whether red Murray, and that devoted with their looks of profound wisdom and
band of English and Americans who dogmatic eloquence, are lifting their fore
follow his flag, patronize the Vasari fingers, pricking up their ears, opening
theory or more modern ones, we are their mouths, (each obviously interrupting
at this moment unable to state. the flow of the others' rhetoric,) in most
By what subtile threads are inter- lifelike fashion. One almost catches the
national hearts bound together! Two winged syllogisms as they fly from lip to
great nations have wrangled for a cen- lip. We are almost drawn into the dis
tury ; but they have a common property pute ourselves, and are disposed to venti
in Shakspeare and Tupper,-and - most late a score of outrageous paradoxes, for
precious of all joint-possessions in the the mere satisfaction of contradicting such
hand -books of Murray. We feel with wiseacres. These heads are painted with
one throb upon all æsthetic subjects. a vivacity and an energy worthy of the
We admire the same great works of art. Dutch grcat masters of the seventeenth
We drop a tear upon exactly the same century. In fact, there is something
spots, hallowed in ancient or modern caught, no doubt, from the early schools
history. The fraternity is absolute. of Flanders; for Dominic was the con
In the Strozzi chapel are an altar-piece temporary of the glorious masters pro
and several wall-pictures by Andrew Or- tected by Philip the Good of Burgundy,
gagna. They are not so grandly con- -the only good thing he ever did in his
ceived as that wondrous composition of life, —the man who opened the road for
his, the Triumph of Death, in the Pisan that long triumphant procession which
Campo Santo ; but they are additional for two centuries was to march through
proofs of his intense and Dante- like ge- the Netherlands, Germany, and Italy.
nius. No doubt Dante influenced him There is no want, however, of historical
deeply, as he did all his contemporaries, dignity in these compositions. Each one
whose minds were fertile enough to ripen has a stately rhythm , an harmonious gran
such seed . The large picture on the left deur of conception and execution,which,
* Vite da Vasari, ed . Lemonnier, 1846 . in connection with the lifelike fidelity and
Sim . and Lippo Memmi, p. 90, and notes. unaffected beauty of the heads, stamp
22 Florentine Mosaics. [November,
their creator as a dramatic genius of a of the beautiful and the natural. It is
higher order than any of his contem- evident that the Fra went through the
poraries. world with his eyes open, looking for
The Madonna of Cimabue, which bangs beauty wherever it was visible ; and in
at the end of the south transept, resem- his works, at least, there is no lingering
bles the one in the Academy. In place trace of Byzantinism . A scholar of Ma
of the powerful saints' heads, is a group saccio, of a far inferior mind both to
of angels of much grace and purity, sup- Masaccio and Masclino, and without the
porting a shrine. This picture is consid- force of hand of either, he is still, more
ered a bolder and more untrammelled than both together, the founder of the
composition than the other. It is the natural school of Florence.
world -renowned masterpiece of the thir. One of his pictures is in this church,-a
teenth century, which all Florence turned Madonna with the child on her lap. The
out in procession to honor when it left Christ is leaning forward and playing with
the painter's hands; and which even a cross which the infant Saint John holds
Charles of Anjou, dripping in blood, and in his hand. Nothing can be more sug
stalking through the scenes of that great gestive or touching than this prophetic
tragedy whose catastrophe was the Sici- infantile movement. Although the color
lian vespers, paused on his way to admire. of the picture is rather feeble and washy,
as frequently may be observed of Lippo's
V.
paintings, the whole expression is bathed
in purity and piety. Yet the Fra was
SAN SPIRITO.
such an incorrigible mauvais sujet, that
when he was employed to decorate the
In this church, which the admirers of palazzo of Cosmo Vecchio, the Pater Pa
Brunelleschi must study, are two small, triæ was obliged to lock up his artist in
but most exquisite masterpieces of Lippo the chamber which he was painting. The
Lippi. All the works of this most prof- holy man was not easily impounded, how
ligate of friars are tender and holy be ever ; for he cut his bedclothes into strips,
yond description. They have also that let himself into the street from an upper
distinguishing charm of the Florentine story window , and departed on his usual
school of the fifteenth century, naïveté,— adventures; so that it was weeks before
a fresh, gentle, and loving appreciation Cosmo could hear of his painter again
( Concluded in the next Number. ]

SANTA FILOMENA .

WAETE'ER a noble deed is wrought,

Whene'er is spoken a noble thought,
Our hearts, in glad surprise,
To higher levels rise.

The tidal wave of deeper souls

Into our inmost being rolls,
And lifts us unawares
Out of all meaner cares.
1857. ] Santa Filomena. 23
Honor to those whose words or deeds
Thus help us in our daily needs,
And by their overflow
Raise us from what is low !

Thus thought I, as by night I read ,

Of the great army of the dead,
The trenches cold and damp,
The starved and frozen camp,

The wounded from the battle -plain,

In dreary hospitals of pain,
The cheerless corridors,
The cold and stony floors.
Lo ! in that house of misery
A lady with a lamp I see
Pass through the glimmering gloom
And flit from room to room .

And slow , as in a dream of bliss,

The speechless sufferer turns to kiss
Her shadow , as it falls
Upon the darkening walls.
As if a door in heaven should be
Opened , and then closed suddenly,
The vision came and went,
The light shone and was spent.
On England's annals, through the long
Hereafter of her speech and song ,
That light its rays shall cast
From portals of the past.

A lady with a lamp shall stand

In the great history of the land,
A noble type of good ,
Heroic womanhood .

Nor even shall be wanting here

The palm , the lily, and the spear,
The symbols that of yore
Saint Filomena bore.
24 Sally Parsons's Duty. [ November

SALLY PARSONS'S DUTY .

THE sun that shines on eastern Massa- was honest, kind -hearted, and reliable ;
chusetts, specially on buttercups and dan- but as yet Sally showed no decided pref
delions, and providentially on potatoes, erence ; time and the hour were near,
looks down on no greener fields in these but not in sight.
days than it saw in the spring of 1775, One Sunday night, early in April,
fenced in and fenced off by the zigzag after the nine o'clock bell had scattered
snake -fences of ' Zekiel Parsons's farm . Sally's admirers far and wide, and old
“ About this time," as almanacs say , ' Zekiel sat by the chimney corner , watch
young orchards were misty with buds, ing his sister, Aunt Poll, rake up the rest
red maples on the highway sbone in the of the hickory log in the ashes, while he
clear light, and a row of bright tin pans rubbed away sturdily at his feet, holding
at the shed door of the farm -house testi- in one hand the blue yarn stockings,
fied to a sturdy arm and skilful hand “ wrought by no hand, as you may
within ,-arm and hand both belonging to guess,” but that of Sally ; the talk , that
no less a person than Miss Sally, 'Zekiel had momentarily died away, began again,
Parsons's only daughter, and the prettiest and with a glance at Long Snapps, -a
girl in Westbury ; a short, sturdy, rosy lank, shrewd -faced old sailor, who, to
little maid, with hair like a ripe chestnut use his own speech, had “ cast anchor
shell, bright blue eyes full of mischief, 'longside of an old ship-met fur a spell,
and such a sunny, healthy, common- bein' bound fur his own cabin up in
sense character, one is almost afraid to Lenox,” — 'Zekiel spoke after this wise :
tell of it, it is so out of date now . “ I expect, Long, you sailors hev a
But of what use is it to describe her ? drefful hard, onsartain time navigatin ',
How can I impress upon moderns how don't ye ? ”
enlivening and refreshing was her 4 Well, skipper! that are depen's on
aspect, as she spun , or scoured pans, folks. I don't calk'late to hev no sort of
in a linsey -woolsey petticoat and white a hard time, ef I don't get riled with it ;
shortgown, wearing her pretty curls in a but these times I doo rile easy ."
crop ? George Tucker knew it all with- “ What onsettles ye, Snapps ? ”
out telling; and so did half a dozen of the “Well, there's a squall to wind'ard,
Westbury boys, who haunted the picket skipper ; 'ta’n't no cat’s-paw neither;
fence round 'Zekiel's garden every moon- good no-no -east, ef it's flaw . And you
light night in summer, or scraped their landlubbers are a -goin' to leeward, some
feet by the half hour together on his on ye."
door-step in winter evenings. Sally was “ You don't say! what be you a hintin '
a belle ; she knew it and liked it, as every at ? "
honest girl does ;-and she would have “ Well, there's a reel blow down to
been a belle without the aid of her Bostin , Zekle ; there's no more gettin '
father's wide farm and pine -tree shillings; out o' harbour with our old sloop ; she's
for she was fresh and lovely , with a ben an ' gone, an' got some 'tarnal law
spice of coquetry, but a true woman's yer's job spliced to her bows, an ' she's laid
heart beneath it all. up to dry; but that's a pesky small part
It was very hard to discover whom o' judgment. Bostin's full o'them Brit
Sally Parsons favored among her numer- ishers, sech as scomfishkated the Susan
ous beaux. Her father seriously inclined Jane, cos our skipper done suthin ' he
to George Tucker ; not because he was hedn't oughter, or didn't do suthin ' he
rich, -for "Zekiel had not arrived at hed oughter; and I tell yeu the end o'
fashionable principles ,—but because he things is nigh about comin' on here ! "
1857.] Sally Parsons's Duty. 23

Sally, in the chimney corner, heard creation ; an' they think it's perticular sin
Long Snapps with open eyes, and hitch- to speak as though he could go ' skew any
ing her wooden chair nearer, inquired how . Now I believe the Lord lets folks
solemnly , find out what He does, out o' Scriptur ;
“ What do you mean , Mister Snapps ? and I han't found nothin ' yet to tell about
Is the end of the world comin ' bere ? ” kings bein ' better than their neighbours,
“ Bless your pooty little figger-head, and it don't look as ef this king was so
Sally ! I don't know as 'tis, but suthin' clever as common . I s'pose you ba’n't
nigh about as bad is a -comin . Them heerd what our Colony Congress is ar
Britishers is sot out for to hev us under doin ', hev ye, Snapps ? ”
hatches, or else walk the plank ; and “ Well, no, I ha'n't. They was a -layin'
they're darned mistook , ef they think to , last I heerd , so's to settle their course ,
men is a -goin' to be steered blind, and I'xpect they've heaved up an ' let go by
can't blow up the cap'en no rate . There this, but I han't seen no signals.”
a’n't no man in Ameriky but what's got “ Dear me ! ” interrupted Sally, “ a real
suthin' to fight for, afore he'll gin in to war coming! and I a'n't any thing but a
sech tyrints; and it'll come to fightin ', woman ! "
yet, afore long !" Her cheeks and eyes glowed with fer
" Oh my ! ob goody ! the land's sakes ! vent feeling, as she said this ; and the old
yew don't mean ter say that, Long ? ” sailor, turning round, surveyed her with
wofully screeched Aunt Poll, whose ideas a grin of honest admiration.
of war were derived in great measure “ Well said, gal! but you're out o'
from the tattered copy of Josephus ex- your reckonin ,' ef you think women a’n't
tant in the Parsons family ; and wbo was nothin' in war -time. I tell yew , them is
at present calculating the probable effect the craft that sails afore the wind, and
of a battering -ram on their back but- does the signallin ' to all the fleet. When
tery, and thinking how borrid it would gals is full- rigged an' tonguey, they're
be to eat up Uncle 'Zekiel in case of regʻlar press -gangs to twist young fellers
famine,-even after long courses of rats round, an ' make ' em sail under the right
and dogs. colors. Stick to the ship, Miss Sally ;
" Well, I dew , Aunt Poll ; there'll be give a heave at the windlass now'n then,
some poppin' an' stickin' done in these an ' don't let nary one o' them fellers that
parts, afore long ! " comes a buzzin' round you the hull time
4 The Lord deliver us ! an ' the rest turn his back on Yankee Doodle ; an'
on't ! " devoutly ejaculated Poll, whose you won't never banker to be a man , ef
piety exceeded her memory ; whereat 'tis war -time ! ”
'Zekiel, pulling on the other blue stock- Sally's eyes burned bluer than before.
ing that had hung suspended in his fin- “ Thank you kindly, Mister Snapps. I'm
gers, while the sailor discoursed, exhorted obleeged to you for putting the good
a little himself. thought into my head. ( If I don't pester
“ Well, the Lord don't deliver nobody, George Tucker ! the plaguy Tory !) ”
without they wriggle for themselves pretty This parenthesis was me tal, and Sally
consider'ble well fust. This a'n't the went off to bed with a busy brain ; but
newest news to me ; I've been expectin' the sleep of youth and health quieted it ;
and if she dreamed of George Tucker in
on't a long spell, an' I've talked consider'-
ble with Westbury folks about it ; and regimentals, I am afraid they were of fila
there a’n't nobody much, round about grant militia scarlet ;-the buff and blue
here. but what'll stand out agin the Brit- were not distinctive yet. However, for
ishers, exceptin' Tucker's folks; they're the next week Sally heard enough revo
desp'rit for Church an ' King ; they tell lutionary doctrine to revive her Sunday
as ef the Lord gin the king a special night enthusiasm ; the flame of “ success
license to set up in a big chair an ' rewl ful rebellion ” had spread ; the country
26 Sally Parsons's Duty. [November,
began to stir and hum ominously ; people on her chintz gown, occupying one end
assembled in groups, on corners, by of the settle, while Aunt Poll filled the
church steps, around tavern -doors, with rest of that institution with her ample
faces full of portent and expectance ; quilted petticoat and paduasoy cloak ,
ploughs stood idly in the fields; and the trying hard to keep her bands still, in
raw -boned horses, that should of right their unaccustomed idleness,-nay, if it
have dragged the reluctant share through must be told, surreptitiously keeping up
heavy clay and abounding stones, now , a knitting with the fingers, in lieu of the
bestridden by breathless couriers, scoured accustomed needles and yarn .
the country hither and yon, with news, An awful silence reigned after the
messages, and orders from those who had preliminary bows and scrapes had been
taken the right to order out of the hands achieved ,—first broken by George Tuck .
of sleek and positive officials. er, who drew from under his chair a
Nor were Westbury people the last to small basket of red -cheeked apples and
wake up in the general réveille. Every- handed them to Aunt Poll.
body in the pretty, tranquil village, tran- “Well, now, George Tucker ! ” ex
quil now no more, declared themselves claimed the benign spinster, " you dew
openly on one side or the other ;-Peter beat all for sass out o' season ! Kep ' em
Tucker and his son George for the king, down sullar, I expect ? "
of course ; and this open avowal caused “ Yes’m , our sullar's very dry."
a sufficiently pungent scene in Miss Sally “ Well, it hed oughter. What kind be
Parsons's keeping-room the very next they ? ”
Sunday night, when the aforesaid George, " English pippins, ma'am . "
in company with several of his peers, “ Dew tell ! be you a -goin to hev one,
visited the farm -house for the laudable Sally ? "
purpose of “ sparkin ' " Miss Sally. “ No, Aunt Poll ! I don't want anythin '
There were three other youths there, English 'round ! ”
besides George ; all stout for the Conti- The three young men grinned and
nental side of the question, and full of chuckled. George Tucker turned red .
eager but restrained zeal; ready to take “ Hooray for you , Sally ! ” sung out
op arms at a moment's notice ; equally old Snapps . You're a three -decker, er
ready to wait for the ripened time. Of ever there was 'un ! ”
such men were those armies made up that Again George reddened, fidgeted on
endured with a woman's patience and his chair, and at last said, in a disturbed,
fought with a man's fury, righting a great but quite distinct voice ,
wrong as much by moral as by physical " I think the apples are good, Miss
strength, and going to death for the right, Sally, if the name don't suit you.”
whendeath, pitiless and inevitable, stared “ The name's too bad to be good, sir ! "
them in the face. retorted Sally, with a decided sniff and
Long Snapps had been, in his own toss of the head . Old Zekle gave a low
phrase, “ weather-bound ” at Westbury, laugh and interfered.
and was there still, safe in the chimney- “ You see, George Tucker, these here
corner, his shrewd face puckered with times is curus! It wakes up the wimmen
thought and care, his steady old heart folks to hev no tea, nor no prospects of
full of resolute bravery, and longing for peace an' quiet, so's to make butter an’
the time to come; fint and steel ready set hens."
to strike fire on the slightest collision. “ Oh, father ! ” burst out Sally, “ do
On the other side of the hearth from you think that's all that ails women ? I
Snapps sat Zekle in his butternut -colored wouldn't care if I eat samp forever, and
Sunday suit; the four young men ranged had nothing but saxifrax tea ; but I
in a grim row of high-backed wooden can't stand by cool, and see men driven
chairs; Sally, blooming as the roses like dumb beasts by another man, if he
 z
1857.] Sally Parsons's Duty. 27

has got a crown, and never be let speak “ No ! ” burst out Sally, who had stop
for themselves ! " ped flirting, and been listening with soul
Sally's logic was rather confused, but and body to Long ; “ and no man, that is
George got at the idea as fast as was a man , will go against the right and the
necessary . truth just because the wrong is strongest ! "
“ If 'twas a common man , Miss Sally ; This little feminine insult was too much
but a king's set up on high by the Lord, for George Tucker, particularly as he
and we ought to obey what He sets over had not the least idea how its utterance
us. " burned Sally's lips, and made her heart
" I don't see where in Scriptur you ache. He got up from his chair with a
get that idee, George,” retorted Zekle. very bitter look on his handsome face.
“ Well, it says in one place you're to “ I see," said he, quite coldly, “ I am
obey them that has the rule over you , sir ." likely to be scarce welcome here. I be
“ So it do ; but ef the king ha'n't got no lieve the king is my master, made so by
rewl over us, (an' it looks mighty like it the Lord, and I think it is my honest duty
jes' now ,) why, I don't see's we're bound to obey him . It hurts me to part other
to mind him ! ” wise than kind with friends; but I wish
This astute little sophism confounded you a good night, and better judgment."
poor George for a minute, during which There was something so manly in
Sally began to giggle violently, and dirt in George's speech, that, but for its final
her rustic fashion with the three rebels in Aling and personality, every man in the
a row . At length George, recovering his room would have crowded round him to
poise and clear-sightedness, resumed ,- shake hands ; but what man ever coolly
“ But he did rule over us, Mister Par- heard his judgment impeached ?
Bons, and I can't see how it's right to Sally swallowed a great round sob ; but
rebel.” being, like all women , an actress in her
“ There don't everythin ' come jest way, bowed as calmly to Mr. George as
square about seein' things," interposed if he only said adieu, after an ordinary
Long Snapps ; “ folks hed better steer by call.
facts sometimes, than by yarns. It's jest Aunt Poll snuffled, and followed
like v'yagin'; yew do'no' sumtimes what's George to the door ; Uncle Zekle drew
to pay with a compass ; it'll go all p’ints himself up straight, and looked after him ,
to once ; mebbe somebody's got a hatchet his clear blue eyes sparkling with two
near by, or some lubber's throwed a chain rays, one of honest patriotic wrath, one
down by the binnacle, or some darned of affection and regret for George; while
thing's got inside on't, or it's shipped a Long, from the corner, eyed all with a
sea an' got rusted ; but there's allers the serpents wisdom in his gaze, oracularly
Dipper an ' the North Star; they're allers uttering, as the door shut; —
true to their bearin's, and you can't go to “ Well, that ’are feller is good grit ! "
Dary Jones's locker for want of a light'us “ All the worse for us ! ” growled
80 long's they're ahead . I calk'late its jes' Eliaslib Sparks, the biggest of the three,
80 about this king -talk ; orders is very well surprising Sally into a little hysterical
when they a'n't agin common sense an' laugh, and surprised himself still more at
the rights o ' natur ; but you see, George this unexpected sequence to his remark.
Tucker, folks will go 'cordin to natur an' “ Pooty bad ! George is a clever fel
reason , ef there's forty parlamints an ' low ! ” ejaculated Zekle. “ He han't
kings in tow . Natur's jest like a no'west got the rights on't, but I think he'll come
squall; you can't do nothin ' but tack round by'n by."
ag’inst it ; and no men is goin' to stan ' “ I do'no',” said Long, meditatively ;
still and see the wind taken out o ' their “ he's pooty stiff, that ’are feller. He's
Bails, an' their liberty Aung to sharks, sot on dooty, I see ; an ' that means
without one mutiny to know why ! " suthin ', when a man that oughter be
28 Sally Parsons's Duty. [ November
called a man scz it. Wimmin -folks, Long was looking into the fire when
now, don't sail on that tack . When a he said this ; he did not see Sally's look
gal sets to talkin ' about her dooty, it's of rage and amazement at his unpleasant
allers suthin ' she wants ter do and han't penetration.
got no grand excuse for't. Ye never sce “ I'm sure I don't care what George
a woman 't didn't get married for dooty Tucker thinks,” said she, with a toss of
yet ; there a’n’t nary one on 'em darst to her curly head .
say they wanted ter. " “ H’m ! ” uttered Long, meditatively,
“ Oh ! Mister Long ! ” exclaimed Sally. “ lucky ! I 'xpect he carries too many
“ Well, Sally, it's nigh about so ; you guns to be steered by a woman‫' ;ܪܐ‬tis a
han't lived a hunderd year. Some o' kinder pity you a'n't a man, Sally ;
these days you'll get to know yer dooty." mebbe you'd argufy him round then ;
Sally turned red, and the three young it's plain as the Gulf you can't crook his
men sniggered. Forgive the word, gentle v'yage ; he's too stiff for wimmin -folks,
and fair readers ! it means what I mean, that is a fact ! ”
and no other word expresses it ; let us be Oh, Long Snapps ! Long Snapps ! how
graphic and die ! many wives, in how many ports, went to
Just then the meeting-house bell rang the knowledge of feminine nature that
for nine o'clock ; and every man got up dictated that speech ? Sally set her
from his seat, like a son of Anak , bowed , lips. From that hour George Tucker
scraped, cleared his throat to say “ Good- was a doomed man ; but she said nothing
night,” did say something like it, and left. more audible than “ Goodnight.” Long
“ Well, Sally, I swear you're good at looked at her, as she lit the tallow dip by
signallin '," broke out Long, as soon as the fire, and chuckled when he heard her
the youths were fairly out of sight and shut the milk -room door in the safe dis
sound ; “ you hev done it for George tance. He was satisfied.
Tucker ! " The next afternoon, Sally was weed
Sally gave no answer, but aa brand from ing onions in the garden ;-heroines did ,
the back -log fell, blazed up in a shaft of in those days ;—the currant-bushes had
rosy flame, and showed a suspicious glit- but just leafed out ; so George Tucker,
ter on the girl's round, wholesome cheek . going by, saw her ; and she, who had
Aunt Poll had gone to bed ; Zekle was seen him coming before she began to
going the nightly rounds of his barns, to weed, accidentally of course, looked up
see to the stock ; Long Snapps was aware and gave him a very bright smile. That
of opportunity, the secret of success. was the first spider-thread, and the fly
“ Sally ,” said he, “is that feller spark- stepped into it with such aa thrill !
in' you ? " Of course he stopped, and said , -
Sally laughed a little, and something, “ What a pleasant day ! " — the saving
perhaps the blaze, reddened her face. phrase of life. Then Sally said some
“ I don't know ," said the pretty hypo- thing he couldn't hear, and he leaped the
crite , demurely. low fence without being asked, rather
“ H'm ! well, I do,” answered Long; than request her to raise her voice ; he
" and you a’n't never goin' to take up was so considerate ! Next he remem
with a Tory ? don't think it's yer dooty, bered, just as he turned to go away, that
hey ? " there were some white violets down in
“ No indeed ! ” flashed Sally. « Do the meadow, that Sally always liked .
you think I'd marry a Britisher ? I'd Couldn't she spend time to walk down
run away and live with the Indians there across lots and get some ? Sally
first. " thought the onions could not be left
“ Pooty good ! pooty good ! you're Truth to tell, her heart was in her mouth.
calk'lating to make Georgeinto a rebel, She had been playing with edge-tools ;
I'xpect ? ” but just then she smelt a whiff of smoke
1857.] Sally Parsons's Duty. 29

from Long Snapps's pipe, and the re- George sat astounded. Another tiny
solve of last night came back ; her face spider-thread stopped the fly ; a subtle
relented, and George, seeing it, used his ray of blue sped sideways out of Sally's
utmost persuasiveness ; so the result was, eye, that meant, — “ I don't object to be
that Sally washed her hands at the well, liked . ”
and away they went, in the most se- “ I wish with all my heart I knew any
rene silence, over fences, grass -lots, and good way to please you ,” he fervently
ditches, through bits of woodland, and ejaculated.
fields of winter-green, till they reached “ I should think any way to please
the edge of the great meadow , and sat people was a good way,” retorted Sally,
down on a log to rest. It was rather a saying more with her eyes than with her
good place for that purpose. An old voice,80 much more, that in fact this
pine had fallen at the feet of a majestic fly was fast. A little puff of wind blew
cluster of its brethren, so close that the off Sally's bonnet ; she looked shy, flushed,
broad column of one made a natural lovely. George stood up on his feet, and
back to part of the seat. The ground took his hat off.
was warm , dry sand, strown with the fine “ Sally ! " said he, in the deepest notes
dead leaves of past seasons, brown and of his full, manly voice, “ I love you very
aromatic. A light south wind woke the much indeed ; will you be my wife ? "
voices of every bough above, and the Sally was confounded . I rejoice to
melancholy susurrus rose and fell in deli- say she was quite confounded ; but she
cate cadences ; whilebeyond the green was made of revolutionary stuff, and
meadow, Westbury River, a good -sized what just now interfered with her plans
brook, babbled and danced as if there and schemes was the sudden discovery
were no pine- tree laments in the world. how very much indeed she loved George
I believe the air, and the odor, and Tucker ; a fact she had not left enough
the crying wind drove the violets quite margin for in her plot.
out of both the two heads that drooped . But, as I said , she was made of good
silently over that pine log. If Sally had ' metal, and she answered very low ,
been nervous or poetical, she would have “ I do like you, George ; but I never
been glad to recollect them ; but no such will marry a Britisher and a Tory."
morbidness invaded her healthy soul. A spasm of real anguish distorted the
She sat quite still till George said, in a handsome face, bent forward to listen .
suppressed and rather broken tone, “ Do you mean that, Sally ? Can't
“ I was sorry to vex you last night, you love me because we don't think
Sally ! I could not be sorry for any alike ? "
thing else." Sally choked a little ; her tones fell to
“ You did grieve me very much, Mister a whisper. George had to sit down close
George,” said Sally, affecting a little dis- to herto hear.
tance in her address, but sufficiently “ I didn't say I didn't love you ,
tender in manner . George ! ” — A blissful pause of a second ;
66
Well, I suppose you don't see it the then in a clear, cold voice, — “ But my
way I do,” returned George ; " and I am mind's set. I can't marry a Britisher and
very sorry, for I had rather please you a Tory, if I died sayin' so. ”
than any body else .” George gasped.
This was especially tender, and he “ And I cannot turn traitor and rebel,
possessed himself of Sally's little red Sally. I can not. I love you better than
band , unaware or careless that it smelt any thing in the world ; but I can't do a
of onions; but it was withdrawn very wicked thing; no, not even for you .”
decidedly. He was pale as death . Sally's secret
" I think you take a strange way of heart felt proud of him , and never had
showing your liking ! ” sniffed the damsel. she been so near repenting of her work
30 Sally Parsons's Duty. [ November,
in the good cause before ; but she was “ Thunder an' dry trees,” ejaculated
resolute . Zekle, “ what does the woman -" ;
“ Very well ! ” replied she, coolly, “ if but at that instant Long made for the
you prefer the king to me, it's not my door, and Aung it open , thereby prevent
fault ; when your side beats, you can take ing explanations.
your revenge ! " “ Goin ' to Concord, George ? " shouted
The thorough injustice of this speech he to George Tucker, who in aа one-horse
roused her lover's generous indignation. wagon and his Sunday -best clothes was
“If you can think that way of me, driving slowly past.
Sally, it is better for us both to have me “ No ! goin ' to Lexington, after corn .
go ! Good night ! " And away strode the Can I do anything for you ? "
loyal fellow , never looking back to see “ Well, no, I ’xpect not. When be
his sweetheart have a good cry on the you a - comin ' back ? ”
pine-log, and then an equally comfort- " I don't know . "
able fit of laughter; for she knew very “ Well, go long ! good -luck to ye ; keep
well how restless Mister George would to wind'ard o' squalls, George.”
be, all alone by himself, and how much it Long nodded , and George drove on .
meant that they both loved each other, That day the whole village of Westbury
and both knew it. was in an uproar. News had come from
Sally's heart was stout. A sort of Boston that the British were about to
Yankee Evangeline, she would not have send out forces to possess themselves of
gone after Gabriel ; she would have staid all the military stores in the country, and
at home and waited for him to the end of forestall rebellion by rendering it help
time; doing chores and mending mean- less. From every corner of every farm
while, but unmarried, in the fixed inten- and village, young men and old mus
tion of being her lover's sixth wife possi- tered ; from every barn, horses of all
bly, but his wife at last. sizes and descriptions were driven out
So she went home and got supper, and saddled ; rusty muskets, balls of
strained and skimmed milk , set a sponge all shapes and of any available metal
for bread, and slept all night like a dor- that would melt and run , disabled broad
mouse . George Tucker never went to swords, horse-pistols, blunderbusses, what
bed . ever wore any resemblance to a weapon ,
“ Hooraw ! " roared Long Snapps, or could be rendered serviceable to that
trundling in to dinner, the next day ; end ,—all were hunted out, cleaned ,
“ they're wakin' up down to Bostin ! Good mended, and laid ready ;—an array that
many on ' em's quit the town . Them 'are might have made a properly drilled and
Britishers is a -gettin' up sech a breeze ; equipped army smile in contempt, but
an' they doo say the regʻlars is comin' out whose deficiencies were more than sup
full sail, to cair' off all the amminition in plied by iron sinews, true blood, resolve
these parts, fear o' mutiny 'mongst the and desperate courage.
milishy ! Saly and Aunt Poll partook the gale
“ Come along ! ” shouted Zekle, “ let of patriotism . They scoured the “ole
'em come ! like to see 'em takin ' our pow- queen's arm to brilliancy ; they ran
der an' shot 'thout askin '! Guess they'll bullets by the hour ; baked bread and
hear thunder, ef they stick their heads brewed Spring beer, with no more defi
inter a hornet's nest.” nite purpose than a general conviction
“ Dredful suz ! ” exclaimed Aunt Poll, that men must and would eat, as the
pulling turnips out of the pot with reck- men of their house certainly did , in the
less haste, and so scalding her brown intervals of repairing harness, filling
fingers emphatically ; “ be they a -comin' powder-horns and shot -belts, trotting over
here ? will they fetch along the batterin ’ to the tavern after news, and coming
rams ? ” back to retail it, till Aunt Poll began to
1857.] Sally Parsons's Duty 31

imagine she heard the distant strokes of “ But. George ? " gasped Sally; "he
a battering -ram , and rushing out in terror went to Lexington yesterday.”
to assure herself, discovered it to be only “ Well, I am took aback ! ” growled
Sam Pequot, an old Indian, who, with Long. “ I swear I never thought on't.
the apathy of his race, was threshing in I'll go see ."
the barn. “ Come back and tell me ? ” whispered
Aunt Poll took down Josephus to Sally.
refresh her memory, and actually drew “ Lord -a-massy, yes, child ! jest as
a laugh from Sally's grave lips by confid- soon's I know myself trewly ! but I
ing to her this extreme horror of the shan't know nothin' more till gundown, I
case ; a laugh she forgave, since Sally expect. Desire Trowbridge is a -ridin '
reassured her by recommending to her post ; he'll come through 'bout that time
notice the fact that Jerusalem had stone with news.”
walls that were more difficult to climb Long did not come back for several
than stone fences. As for Sally, she hours, some time after sundown, when he
thought of George, all day of George, all found Sally in the shed , waiting for him .
night; and while the next day deepened She saw the news in his face . “ Dead ? "
toward noon , was still thinking of him , said she, clutching at the old sailor's
when in rushed Long Snapps, tarpaulin hand.
in hand, full of news and horror. “ No ! no ! he a’n't slipt his moorins'
“ I swan ! we've got it now ! ” said he. yet, but he is badly stove about the
“ Them darned Britishers sot out fur figger -head ; he's got a ball through his
Concord last night, to board our decks head somewhere, an ' another in his leg;
an' plunder the magazine ; the boys and he a’n’t within hail; don't hear no
heerd on't, and they was ready over to speakin '-trumpets ; fact is, Sally, he's in
Lexin'ton , waitin' round the meetin'us; for the dockyard a good spell, ef he aʼn't
they stood to't, an' that old powder mon- broke up hull and all. "
key Pitcairn sung out to throw down u Who shot him ? " whispered Sally.
their arms, darned rebels; an ' cause they “ That's the best on't, gal; he's took an
didn't muster to his whistle, he let fly at tacked beautiful; he went into port at
' em like split; an' there's some killed an Lexin'ton yesterday, and heerin' there all
more wounded ; pretty much all on ' em sides o' the story, an' how them critters
our folks, though they did giv the reg - sot up for to thieve away our stores, he
lars one round o' ball afore they run .” got kinder riled at the bull crew , like a
“ Hooray !” shouted Zekle ; “ that's common -sense feller, an ' when Pitcairn
the talk ; guess they'll sing smaller next
come along, George finally struck his
time ! ” colors, run up a new un to the mast-head,
66
They'll do more'n that, Zekle,” re- borrered a musket, an' jined the milishy,
sponded Long ; “ this a'n't but the begin- an' got shot by them cussed reg'lars fur his
nin' o' sorrers, as Parson Marsh sez, sez pains; an ef he doos die, I'll hev a figger
he; there'll be a hull gulf stream o' blood, cut on a stun myself, to tell folks he was
afore them darned regʻlars knows the color a rebel and an honest man arter all .”
on't well enough to lay their course . " “ Where is he ? ” asked Sally in
Sally glided past Long, and plucked another whisper.
him by the sleeve, unseen by the rest. “ He's to the tàvern there in Lexin'ton.
He followed her into the shed . She was There a’n't nobody along with him, cause
ghastly pale. “ Long,” said she, hur- his father's gone to Bostin to see 'bout not
riedly, “ did you hear who ? was anybody gettin' scomfishkated, or arter a protec
shot ? ” tion, or sumthin .”
“ Bless ye, gall a hull school on 'em “ And his mother is dead ," said Sally,
was shot; there wasn't many went to the slowly. “ Long ! I must go to Lexington
bottom , though ; han't heerd no names.” to -night, on the pillion, and you must go
82 Sally Parsons's Duty. [ November,
with me. Father's got too much rheu- lation, and in the young leaves a shiver
»
matiz to ask it of him . " ing wind foreboded evil ;-but they rode
on. Presently Sally's drooping head rose
“ Well ! ” said Long, after a protracted
stare at Sally, " wimmin is the oddest erect ; she listened ; she laid her hand on
craft that ever sailed . I swan , when I the bridle . " Stop, Long ! ” said she. “ I
sight ' em I don't know a main -top-sail hear horses' feet, and shouts.”
from a flyin ' jib ! Goin' to take care o' “ Look here ! ” said Long, after a
George, be ye ? " moments listening, “ there's breakers
“ Yes," said Sally, meekly . ahead , Sally ; let's heave to in these
Long rolled the inseparable quid in his 'ere piny bushes side o' the track ; it's
cheek, and slyly drawled out, “ W -ell, if pitch dark, mebbe they'll go by.”
ye must, ye must ! I a’n't a - goin' ter He reined the horse from the road , and
stand in the way of yer dooty ! ” forced him into a group of young hem
Sally was too far away to hear, or she locks, which hid them entirely from
might have smiled . passers by. Just as he was well en
Uncle Zeke and Aunt Poll were to be sconced, a company of British cavalry
told and coaxed into assent ;-no very rode up, broken and disorderly enough,
bard task ; for George Tucker was a cursing and swearing at the Yankees,
favorite of ' Zekiel's, and now he had and telling to unseen ears a bloody story
turned rebel, the only grudge he had ever of Concord and its men . Sally trembled,
owed him was removed ; he was only too but it was with indignation, not fear,
glad to help him in any way. Aunt Poll's and as soon as the last hoof -beat died
sole trouble was lest Sally should take away, she urged Long forward ; they
cold . The proprieties, those gods of regained the road , and made their way
modern social worship, as well as their at once to George in Lexington.
progenitors, the improprieties, were un- Is it well to paint, even in failing
known to these simple souls ; they did words, such emotions as Sally fought
things because they were right and with and conquered in that hour ? Who
wrong. They were not nice according to ever has stood by the bed of a speechless,
Swift's definition , nor proper in the mode hopeless, unconscious human being, in
of the best society, but they were good whom their own soul lived and suffered,
and pure ; are the disciples and lecturers will know these pangs without my inter
of the proper' equally so ? pretation. Whoever knows them not
Sally's simple preparations were quickly need not so anticipate. If Sally had
made. By nine o'clock she was safe on been less a woman , I might have had
the pillion behind Long Snapps, folded in more to say ; but she was only a woman,
Aunt Poll's red joseph, and provided with and loved George, so she went on in un
saddle-bags full of comforts and neces- disturbed self-control, and untiring exer
saries. The night was dark, but Sally tion, to nurse him .
did not feel any fear ; not Tam O'Shan- The doctor said he could not live;
ter's experience could have shaken the Long said he was booked for Davy Jones;
honest little creature's courage , when the minister prayed for “ our dying
George filled the perspective before her. brother ” ; — but Sally said he should live,
The way was lonely ; the hard road echoed and he did. After weeks of patient care
under the old cart-horse's hoofs ; many a he knew her ; after more weeks he spoke,
black and desolate tract of forest lay - words few, but precious ; and when ac
across their twenty miles' ride; more than cumulating months brought to the battle
once the tremulous shriek of a screech- fields of America redder stains than even
owl smote ominously on Sally's wakeful patriotic blood had splashed upon their
sense , and quavered away like a dying leaves,—when one nation began to bope,
groan ; more than once a mournful whip and another to fear, both hope and fear
poorwill cried out in pain and expostu- had shaken hands with Sally and said
1857. ) The Manchester Exhibition . 33

good -bye. She was married to George said , “ Would you ever have come to
Tucker, and, with the prospect of a take care of me, Sally, if I'd ' a ' been shot
»
crippled husband for life, was perfectly on the side of the reg'lars ? ”
happy ; too happy not to laugh, when, Sally looked at him , and then looked
the day after their wedding, sitting on the away.
door-sill of the old Westbury homestead , “ I'xpect she'd ' a ' done her dooty," said
with George and Long Snapps, George Long Snapps dryly ; and Sally laughed.

THE MANCHESTER EXHIBITION .

In a number of the " Ilustrated News,” which waves in the wind like a pall
not long since, there was what professed over the city, slowly moving and settling
to be a view of Manchester. It repre- down upon the land. One may almost
sented a thousand tall factory -chimneys hear the roar of the continual fires, the
rising out of a gray mist, and surmounted throb of the engines, the heavy beat of
by a heavy, drifting cloud of smoke. the trip-hammers, and the rattle of the
And in truth a view not very different spindles, by which the work of the world
from this was presented to any one is done ; and their noises, blended by the
who, standing at the entrance of the distance into one monotonous sound, seem
Palace of the Exhibition of Art Treas like the voice of the restless, hard -work
ures, turned and looked back before ing, unsettled spirit of gain. Manches
going within . Two miles off lies the ter is built and is worked for profit, not
body of the great workshop -city, already for pleasure; beauty is driven away
stretching its begrimed arins in the direc- from her as a thing at variance with
tion of the Exhihinon. The vast flat practical life ; and even the sky above
expanse of brick walls, diversified by her and the fields around her yield only
countless chimneys and occasional stee- at rare moments and for short seasons
ples, now and then interrupted by the those precious and gracious shows of
insertion of a law shed or an enormous beauty which are the free and blessed
warehouse, offo.rs no single object upon gift of love to all the world . Smoke,
which the ave or the imagination can steam , coal-dust, blackened walls, and
rest with nleasure . Such a view was bare fields lie outside the Exhibition ;
never to be seen in the world before this and now let us go within .
century ; a city built merely by trade, The world could show no sharper and
built for the home of labor,9 of machines, more affecting contrast. Outside, all
and of engines, and for the dwelling- suggests the competitions and struggles of
pli.ce ( one cannot call it the home) of trade, the crowded street, the bustle of
crowds of human beings, whose value is the exchange, the cold and dry elements
for the most part, estimated according to of purely unimaginative life. Inside, all
the development of their machine-like suggests the quietness and composure of
qualities. Beauty is not consulted here. solitary and delightful labor, the silence
In those places in or near the city, where of the studio , the resort to nature , and
Nature, reluctant to be driven utterly the frequenting of the springs of poetry.
away, still tries to keep a foothold , she is From the present, one is suddenly trans
parched and scorched by the feverish ferred to the past ; from the near, to the
breath of 'cropos and furnaces. Stand- remote. In place of the blank, black
ing here, ore may see the cloud of smoke, factory all, there is the low wall of
VOL . I. 3
34 The Manchester Exhibition . [ November,
some Italian Campo Santo, its painted nave to aisle, or aisle to nave . The
sides more precious than marbles or gold nave and aisles end in a transept, and
could have made them ; in place of the behind the transept are two small saloons,
dull and heavy stone of the Exchange, and a large hall or aisle crossing the
the glowing mosaics of some southern building transversely and forming its
cathedral ; in place of the factory bell western end. A gallery runs round
and the rush into the steaming and the transept, and another crosses the
dirty workroom , the bell of a convent nave at its eastern end. This is the
on Fiesole, and the slow walk through general arrangement. The walls of the
its cool cloisters ; in place of the dead nave or central hall are occupied by
files of uniform ugly houses, Venetian the gallery of British portraits, and be
palaces, with the water at their base, tween the iron columns that support the
reflecting the colors which Giorgione roof are set pieces of sculpture, and the
and Titian, housepainters at Venice, left cases containing the precious collection
upon their stones ; in place of the racket of Ornamental Art, (works of the minor
of the street, the quiet greenness of an arts, as they might be called ,) which has
English lane, or the inaccessible ice and been brought together from private and
glory of a far-off mountain summit ; in public sources, and is quite unrivalled in
place of the burnt waste of fields covered its completeness. The southern aisle
with ashes and coal-dust, the burning contains the main collection of pictures
stretch of the desert with the Sphinx by ancient, foreign masters ; while the
looking out over it century after cen- opposite aisle is filled with the works of
tury ; in place of the shower coming the British school. The transept, being
down through the dirty air to wash the chiefly given up to arrangements for an
dirty roofs, a storm breaking over the orchestra, contains below little but a col
sea-shore rocks, or beating down on the lection of busts, but its galleries are oc
broken wreck ; instead of the drabbled cupied with the collection of miniatures,
calico of the factory girl and her face old a most admirable and extensive historical
before its time, the satins of Vandyck's series of engravings, a large number of
beauties, and the fair looks of Sir Peter photographs, and a very precious collec
Lely's heroines ; instead of Manchester tion of original drawings by the old mas
mayors and masters of factories, Tinto ters. The saloon at the north end of the
ret's noble Venetian counsellors and transept is filled with East Indian and
doges, and Titian's Shakspearian men. Chinese tapestries, furniture, and works
It was a bold thought thus to bring pic- of ornamental design ; while the opposite
tures and statues into one great collec- saloon continues the collection of paint
tion at Old Trafford, and to set off the ings of ancient masters, being chiefly
art of the world against the manufac- occupied with works from the gallery of
tures of Manchester. the Marquis of Hertford , which he sent
The Exhibition building was admira- to the Exhibition on condition that they
bly designed for its purpose. Its plan is should be kept together. The hall that
simple, and not unpleasing, although the crosses the building at the western end
proportions, which its object required,
is filled with a collection of water-color
were such as to prevent any attempt atdrawings.- Such, in brief, is an outline
grand architectural effect. The general
of the distribution of the treasures con
arrangement of the interior is easily tained in this great palace of Art.
understood, even without the aid of a The first impression, on entering the
ground-plan. The chief entrance leads nave, is that of the vast space filled with
into a nave, which has on each side an light and rich with color. The attention
aisle of less height, separated from it by a is not attracted to particular details.
wall. The wall is broken by two open- Separate objects are dwarfed in the long
ings, through which is the passage from vista. Theeye rests on nothing that is
1857.] The Manchester Exhibition. 35

not precious, and is at first contented to the fifth earl,-thc satisfaction with which
wander rapidly from one object to she would point to the pictures and the
marbles brought two centuries age from
another, without attempting to delay on
any thing. Passing down the middle Italy, now stopping before this to tell you
>

between the ordered files of statues, (all that “ it is considered a very impropor
modern works, and few of them worthy tionable Virgin by Parmigianino,” and
of remark ,) we enter from the transept calling you to observe this old statue “ of
the south nave, where the works of the a couching Silenius wrapped in the skin
foreign schools of painting are arranged of a Pantheon ," — and then, when the
forthe most part in chronological order. Rubens, and the Claude, and all the
This nave, like the opposite , is divided other pictures have been seen, her let
into three saloons and two vestibules. ting you pass, as a great favor, through
We are now in the first saloon. On the the library with its well-filled oaken
one side are the works of the earlier shelves, the gilding worn off the backs
Italian masters, and on the other those of many of its books by the love of suc
of the masters of the earlier German and cessive generations ;—who does not re
Flemish schools. And it is here that one member such scenes as these, and recall
observes the chief deficiency of the col- the glorious pictures from Florence, or
lection . The pictures which are here from Venice, or from Antwerp, that
have been broughtfrom the private gal- enrich many an English country home ?
leries in which England is so rich. It was, indeed, from such homes that
Many a famous country-house, full of the Manchester collection was, in great
historic and poetic associations, gains ad- measure, brought together ; and this
ditional interestfrom its gallery of pio being the case, it is not to be wondered
tures or of marbles. Blenheim , Wilton at that it was difficult to form an historic
House, Warwick Castle, have their old sequence of pictures by which the course
walls hung with pictures by Titian, Van- and progress of Art should be properly
dyck, and Holbein . Who does not re- illustrated, or that many of the old pic
member, as one of his most delightful tures that hang on the walls of the
recollections of England,delightful
- as Exhibition bear the names of greater
all his recollections of that dear old masters than they deserve to be honored
Mother-land are , if he has really seen with . Nor is it strange that the earlier
her,—who does not thus remember the schools of Art should be but very scan
tily represented. The earlier painters
drive from the little country town to did
the old family place, up the long ave not do much work would answer
that
due under its ancestral trees, the ferny for the decoration of homes ; their work
brook crossed by the stone bridge with was of a public, and, for the most part, a
its carved balustrade, the deer feeding consecrated nature. The pictures of
on the green slope of the open park later centuries are more easily appre
or lying under some secular oak , the ciated by those who have not made a
heavy white clouds casting their slot thoughtful study of Art, and they have
shadows on the broad lawn, the dark consequently been more loudly praised
spreading cedars of Lebanon standing and more generally sought for. The later
on the edge of the bright flower-gar- works have attractive qualities in which
den, the old house itself,with its quaint the earlier are often deficient, and it is
gables and oriels, the broad flight of not until very recently that the real
steps leading to the wide door,—the beauty and value of these first pictures
cheerful reception from the prim , but of the revival have been felt with any
good-natured housekeeper,—her pride in due appreciation. The masters of the
the great ball, and in the pleasant, home fourteenth, and of the greater part of the
like rooms, in Vandyck’s portrait of the fifteenth century, did not, as we have
beautiful countess, and in Holbein's of said, paint pictures simply as objects of
36 The Manchester Exhibition . [ November,
beauty or for mere purposes of adorn- there is the expression of such religious
ment, nor were those methods of paint fervor, such faith and love, as Art has
ing then in use which have brought rarely or never reached in later times.
pictures into private homes and within Nor is there at Manchester any picture
private means. And so it happens that by Duccio da Siena, the great, and, one
the schools of this period are not repre may almost say, the worthy contempo
sented at Manchester in any fair propor- rary of Giotto, from which his power and
tion to the schools of the sixteenth feeling are to be well estimated . Like
century. Giotto he struggled to free himself from
The two most important centuries of the swathing -clothes in which the tradi
Art are not to be studied here. tions of Byzantine Art had bound up the
Of the
six pictures, for instance, that profess to
limbs and the imaginations of artists, and
be by Giotto, the great head and master he succeeded in at last breaking loose.
of Italian Art, there are but two from But the long restraint had impaired the
which even a faint impression of his style power of all who were subjected to it;
can be gained. There is nothing here and as in the works of Giotto, so in the
which would enable one who had not rarer works of Duccio, one often finds
seen his works in Italy to conceive a an effort after truth of expression, which
true idea of their character and merits. is almost pathetic in its character, from
Giotto stands at the threshold of the its revealing the inefficiency of the hand
fourteenth century, breaking open the to carry out the thought, and the resolute
door, so long barred up, that was to let will striving half in vain to overcome the
men into the glories of the unseen impediments of bad teaching and im
world . The friend of Dante, he, as perfect knowledge of the materials and
painter, stands side by side with the limits of painting. It is this groping ef
poet. In the midst of the tumults, the fort after truth which results often in the
confusion, and violence of those bloody naive rendering of details, and the quaint
times, his soul rose above the discord of ness of composition, which are so common
the world , his hand snapped the fetters in the works of these early masters ; but
of authority and tradition, and revealed the deep feeling of the artists penetrates
by line and color the exalted visions of throughall, and thus even their awkward
his imagination. Painting, with him , and imperfect drawing frequently pro
took its inspiration from religious faith, duces a stronger effect, and seems a bet
and spent itself in religious service. ter rendering of nature , than the cold,
Whether at Padua, in the little with- unfeeling, academic accuracy of Bologna,
drawn Arena chapel, or on the bare or all the finished science of the eclectic
mountains at Assisi, in the great church schools.
of St. Francis, or at Naples, in the king's In passing down through the century
chapel, bis frescos, though dimmed by one finds lamentable omissions at Man
the dust of five hundred years, black- chester. Fifty pictures, of which half at
ened by the smoke of incense, abused least have been restored, (that is to say, in
by restorers, still show a power of im- part or wholly spoiled,) and half original.
agination , a spirituality and tenderness ly the work of inferior masters, do not
of feeling, a simplicity and directness represent the art of a century which was
of treatment, which give them place full of the glow of reawakening life, and
among the most sacred and precious which, as the spring covers the earth with
works that Art has yet produced. That flowers, covered Italy with cathedrals,,
quiet, solitary chapel of the Arena at campaniles, churches, baptisteries, and
Padua is one of the places most worthy camposantos, and decorated their walls
of reverence in Italy ; for in the pictures with sculpture and painting. Art was
from the lives of the Virgin and the gaining gradually a knowledge of her
Saviour, that are painted upon its walls, own powers. Orgagna, the Michel An
1857.] The Manchester Eschibition . 37

gelo of his time, ( one of his pictures is der and holy purity of his imagination,
at Manchester,) was opening a wider the delicate strength of his fancy, are
field for her progress ; and ten years not to be discovered in the pic
after his death Fra Angelico was born . tures that bear his name at Manches
He was a boy of fifteen years old when ter. His pictures are to be fairly seen
in 1402 Masaccio was born at Florence, only at Venice, where, in out-of-the-way
and the brightness of the fifteenth century churches, over tawdry altars, his colors
had begun. gleam undimmed by time, and the faces
There is one, among the four pictures of his Virgins look down with a still ce
ascribed to Fra Angelico in this col- lestial sweetness. But there is one pic
lection , from which something of the ture here, by a Venetian contemporary
heavenly purity, the sweetness, and the of John Bellini, before which we shall do
tenderness of this great and gentle mas- well to pause. It is a St. Catharine, by
ter may be learned . It is a picture of Cima da Conegliano. It is the picture of
the Last Judgment. Unfortunately, it a noble woman , full of fortitude, serenity,
has been much injured by time and by and faith . The richness of the color of
neglect; its brilliant colors have sunk and her dress, her calm dignity, the coniposure
become dim , —those pure, clear colors of her attitude, recall to mind and make
which give to Fra Angelico's panel pic- her the worthy companion of the beauti
tures the brilliancy of a missal illumina- ful St. Barbara of the church of Santa
tion, and which reflect the purity and the Maria Formosa . It is well to look at her,
clearness of his tranquil life and his rev- for we are coming to those days when
erential soul. It is no fanciful theory such saints as these were no longer
which connects the uses of color with painted ; but in their places whole tribes
moral qualities, and which from the color- of figures with faces twisted into every
ing of a picture will deduce something trick of sentimental devotion, imbecile
of the moral character of its painter. piety, and pretended fervor.
Thus it is not only from the exquisite But before this time, somewhere about
delicacy of form , the spirituality of ex- the middle of the fifteenth century, the
pression, and the sweet, reverent fancy fashion of painting pictures upon panel
in attitude, of the angels from which Fra for private purposes, though as yet relig
Angelico derived his name, but also from ious subjects were principally chosen for
the brightness of their golden wings, from treatment, had already begun ; and we
the deep glow of their crimson, orscarlet, find the masters of the early part of the
or azure robes, and from the clear shining sixteenth century represented with toler
of the stars on their forehcads, that one able fulness at Manchester. English col
learns that he deserved that name as lectors have long had a passion for Ra
characteristic of his temper and his life. phael, and England is almost as rich in
Something of the influence of the cloister his works in oils as Italy herself. Italy,
shows itself in most of his larger works; however, keeps his frescos ; and may she
but if his vision was narrowed within long keep them ! There are more than
convent walls, it did but pierce the more thirty works ascribed to Raphael hanging
clearly into the regions of tranquillity and on the walls of the Exhibition. Many of
loveliness that lay above them . them are of doubtful genuineness; many
With the end of the fifteenth cen- of them have been restored.
tury religion almost disappears from It is impossible to trace in these pic
Art. John Bellini, dying ninety years tures the progress of Raphael's manner,
old in 1516, was the last and one of and to mark the developinent of his style;
the greatest of the long line of artists but even in these one may see some
who had loved Art as the means granted thing of the change from the simplicity
them of serving God upon earth . The and feeling of his early works, produced
manly vigor of his conceptions, the ten- under the influence of religious senti
38 The Manchester Exhibition. [November,
ment, and the still clinging stiffness of Bonifazio of a Virgin and Child sur
traditional restraints, to the freedom and rounded by saints is a splendid example
coldness of his later works, painted under of this almost unsurpassed colorist ; while
the influence of success at a dissolute several of the pictures by Paul Veronese
court, of Aattery, of jealousy, and of in- are among the most precious things in all
difference to the motives of religion. the Exhibition, as clear and uninjured
The Venetian masters of the sixteenth specimens of admirable Venetian work .
century fill a large portion of the sides of The Bolognese school is represented
one of the great saloons of this aisle, at Manchester out of all proportion to
covering it with a glow of deepest color. its worth, in comparison with the earlier
The opposite side is hung with many and greater schools of Italy. It is essen- •
pictures by Rubens ; and the contrast tially the school of decline, and, after the
between the works of the mighty color- time of Francia, very few pictures pro
ists of Venice and the famous colorist of ceeded from it dignified by noble thought,
Antwerp is not without curious interest or exhibiting either purity or power of
and instruction. The Venice wall has imagination. Its very method condemned
the color of Venetian sunsets, the gold it to inferiority. But debased as it is, it
and crimson of its clouds, the solemn blue has been during the last two centuries
of the Cadore hills, the deep green of the object of perhaps more real and af
the lagoons, the brown and purple of the fected admiration than any other of the
seaweeds, and the shadows of the city of schools of Italian art. Fortunately, we
decaying palaces. Here are such har- have entered upon a better period of
monies as Nature strikes in her grea criticism , and a change is fast coming
symphony of color. But on the other over the public taste . But it is a curious
wall are the colors of the courts in which fact, that the most popular picture in the
Rubens passed so many of his days , —the whole gallery of ancient masters, the
dyes of tapestry, the shcen of jewels and picture before which larger crowds as
velvet, the glaring crimson and yellow semble and linger than before any other,
of royal displays; while the harmonies is one from this school, —the three Maries
that he strikes out with his rapid and weeping over the body of the Saviour,
powerful band are like those of the music by Annibale Caracci. A portion of the
of some great military band. interest which it excites undoubtedly
There are noble pictures here by Gior arises from the report that Louis Napo
gione, and Titian , and Tintoret, and Paul leon has offered the sum of £ 20,000 for
Veronese, and Bonifazio. Look at this it to its possessor, the Earl of Carlisle ;
Musical Party by Giorgione, this land- but its intrinsic qualities are such as to
scape by Titian, this portrait of the vile explain much of its attraction for unedu
Duke of Alva by the same great master, cated eyes. The attitudes of the figures
the greatest master of all in portraiture. are violent and theatrical, the colors are
It is the Duke himself, not merely in his strong, the surface is smooth, the subject
outward presence, but such as the insight is easily recognized and of general inter
of one as profoundly versed in human as est. But whatever value bc set upon
in external nature beheld him . The por- these points, it is an example of many
trait is a biography of the man, and one of the worst defects of the school. The
may read in the narrow , hard, and wily expressions of the figures are exagger
face the history of his cruel life. The same ated and unnatural, the color, though
qualities of inward vision are displayed by strong, is cold and inbarmonious, the
Tintoret in his more hasty portraits, and drawing feeble and incorrect, the senti
one learns as much of Venetian men and ment inconceivably material. It is a
of their lives from the pencil of Titian true exponent of the low ebb of artistic
and of Tintoret as from the pens of con- power and of religious feeling at the
temporary chroniclers. The picture by period at which it was painted.
1857. ] The Manchester Exhibition. 39

But we are delaying too long in these so sensual, so disgusting in appearance,

balls of the old painters. We have that one recognizes its truth, and won
scarcely looked at a tithe of the eleven ders that the court-painter did not lose
hundred pictures that hang around, and his head for such a libellous sincerity.
we must pass by with only a glance Wolsey is near his master ; his face is
the long lines of German, Flemish, and that of a man “ exceeding wise, fair
Dutch works, and the rows of pictures spoken, and persuading "; he has a large,
by the great Spanish masters. We can full brow , narrow and shrewd eyes, a
but see how much there is for pleasure delicate nose, and somewh at heavy and
and for study, and wish in vain to pause sensual checks.little later the por
A
before Rembrandt, and Cuyp, and Ruys traits become more numerous. Of Queen
dael, and Vandyck , before Murillo and Elizabeth there are seven here, and in
Velasquez. them may be traced the great changes
We come out into the nave, and, for- of her face , -from that of the plain, awk
getting for a time pictures as works of ward, not altogether unpleasing, red
art, let us look at them as representations haired girl, to that of the hard, bitter,
of men, as we pass along before the por- disappointed old woman . Some of her
traits of British worthies, with which the courtiers surround her ;-Leicester, with
two sides of this great hall are hung. It a treacherous uncertainty of expression ;
is a gallery of which every one of British and Burleigh, riding on a mule, and
blood may be proud ; for no other country holding flowers in his hand ,-an odd
could show such a long line of the por- representation of the greatLord Treas
traits of her famous men, and feel at the urer . And here, too, is Henry Wrio
same time that so many of her greatest thesley, the Earl of Southampton, find
were not to be found in the collection. ing a deserved place among the chief
The gallery begins with a portrait of men of his time,for
- he was Shak
King Henry IV .; it ends with that of speare's friend, and to him the “ Rape of
Mr. Prescott. After nearly four hun- Lucrece " was dedicated , with the words,
>

dred English worthies, at last one Amer- “ What I have done is yours ; what I have
ican ,—and only one ; for in the whole to do is yours ; being part in all I have
collection there is but one other portrait devoted yours." Here is Holbein's por
of an American ,-West, the painter, trait of Sir Walter Raleigh, with the face
-

and he was English by adoption, though of a true knight. Sidney is not here, but
66
not by birth. We could spare his fame Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother,"
without great loss, but it would not do has an honored place,—and though her
for us to give up that of our popular his- portrait is not of so “ fair ” a woman as
torian. In the next great assemblage of one might desire have seen her, it
the portraits of the worthies of the Eng- has the look of a woman 1 wise and
lish race and speech, perhaps those born good .” And here are Shakspeare and
on this side of the Atlantic may appear Ben Jonson themselves ;—the Chandos
in larger numbers and in even rank of portrait of Shakspcare, with which all
bonor. the world is familiar, more interesting
The first portrait on the catalogue is from its own fame than from its being
that of King Henry IV.; but he has dis- either an authentic or a satisfactory like
placed here, as in life, his predecessor on ness ofthepoet ; and Ben Jonson close by,
the throne. Henry VI. and Richard III. with his strong features and manly face.
follow in near succession ; but it is not till And Fletcher, and Shirley, and Dick
Henry VIII.'s time that we really enter Burbadge, who first acted Hamlet, and
upon the field of English portraiture. whose picture explains why the queen
We begin with the king himself. Here should say, “ He's fat and scant of
is Holbein's famous picture of him ; a breath ,” — and others of the same great
picture that represents a man so gross, band of contemporaries. Their heads be
40 The Manchester Exhibition . [ November,
long for the most part to one broad type ; of resolute melancholy, and in Pym be
their common characteristics are strongly tray the sternness of his nature, tell in all
marked. There were never finer beads of the hard discipline of theirlives, and the
than these ; -the broad, uplifted, solidly upright patriotism of their hearts. Com
based skulls; the strong and vigorous pare the faces of these patriots with those
marking of the features, giving evidence, of the leaders of the French Revolutions.
both in shape and in expression, of the The Cavaliers, with a type of head less
union of pure intellect and pure imagina fine, were for the most part handsomer
tion. Compare with them the heads of men than the Roundheads. Here is
the wits and statesmen of Charles II.'s Lovelace, the poet, for instance ; Aubrey
time. See the difference ;-the high, says of him, “ He was an extraordinary
wide arch of the skull is lowered or nar- handsome man ,” and this likeness bears
rowed ; the broad brow cramped ; the out the assertion. His face has a look
features finer cut, but losing in force of enthusiasm and of gallantry, appropri
what they gain in fineness. Look, for ate to the man who could write , “ Stone
instance, at this Vandyck of Sir John walls do not a prison make. ” With the
Suckling, only the next generation portraits of Brooke, and Fairfax, and
after the great men ; but his portrait Falkland, and Astley, and others of the
is that of an idler, his head that of a time, the comparison between Round
man without great thoughts or great in- head and Cavalier might be carried still
terests . The age of imagination had farther,—but we must pass on .
passed ; the age of fancy was setting in . The portrait of Hobbes of Malmesbury,
Here and there in the later days one as an old man, hangs near that of Sir
finds a man who might belong to the ear- Thomas Browne. It is a curious con
trast between the imaginative and the
lier time ;-for instance, this likeness of
Sir Henry Wotton, also by Vandyck, unimaginative philosopher,-between the
gives us a broad and noble head ; but student of innumerable books, and the
one sees the time to which he belonged cynic who declared that “ he should know
in his somewhat affected meditative atti- as little as other men, if he had read as
tude, and in the word Philosophemur, many books."
which is inscribed upon the canvas. There is a whole bevy here of the
The finest type of head which England famous beauties of Charles II.'s court, -
has had since the time of Elizabeth was full of the affected airs and languishing
that developed among the Roundheads. graces which Sir Peter Lely knew well
Round heads they were , and noble heads how to paint, and rarely showing any
too . They are well represented here. thing in their portraits of the sprightliness
Look at this portrait of Cromwell ; —it which some of them at least possessed in
has the same character and expression life. The only one of Sir Peter's full
with that still nobler likeness of him length beauties, who calls up any associa
which he sent to the Duke of Tuscany, tions but such as belong to Grammont's
and which bangs now in one of the Memoirs, is Margaret Lucas, the Duchess
back halls of the Pitti Gallery, a stern , of Newcastle . Who does not know her
silent monitor to the dull Florentines. through Charles Lamb, and love her for
Frederick Tennyson said of it, that Charles Lamb's sake ? She looks out of
it was the best battle -piece he ever place here, between Charles II. and the
saw ; — “ In its red ruggedness it looks as Duchess of Cleveland ; and it was not
if it had been sketched in by the gleam in a fancy dress of most fantastic style
of Dunbar's cannon flashes ." Hampden, that she wrote her memoir of her hus
Eliot, and Pym , with wide individual dif- band,-in which she tells of what My
ferences, all belong to the same class ; - Lord would eat at dinner, as well as col
the lines of their faces, which in Hamp lects the wise things which dropped from
den and in Eliot have settled into a cast My Lord's lips.
1857.] The Manchester Exhibition . 41

The worthy Secretary Pepys appears Vanbrugh, Congreve, Steele, Addison,

here, in “ an excellent conceited picture," and Lord Chancellor Somers are the
of which he himself has told the story in other five of these celebrated portraits.
his Diary What a congress of wits ! But we have
“ 1666, March 17. To Hales's, and besides, Atterbury, and Pope, and Lady
paid him £ 14 for the picture, and £ 1 5s. Mary Wortley Montague, and Prior, and
for the frame. This day I began to sit, Tickell, and Swift. Pope's face, as given
and he will make me, I think , a very fine in Kneller's portrait, ( which recalls the
picture. He promises it shall be as good poet's stolen complimentary verse to the
as my wife's; and I sit to have it full of painter,) has a sad and weary look,
shadows, and do almost break my neck and is marked by that pallor, and that
looking over my shoulder, to make the peculiar hollowness of eye and cheek,
posture for him to work by." which often accompany bodily deformity.
“ March 30. To Hales's, and there Swift's face betrays but little of the bitter
sat till almost quite dark upon working ness of his soul; but it was painted in his
my gowne, which I hired to be drawn in ; best days, before the cloud of darkness
ap Indian gowne." had begun to settle down upon him . It
“ April 11. To Hales's, where there is the portrait of him as he was in Lon
was nothing found to be done more to don, among his set,-not as he was in
my picture, but the musique, which now the half-banishment of his Irish life.
pleases me mightily, it being painted The end of the century brings us to
true . " other familiar portraits, and at length to
And here is Kneller's familiar portrait portraits painted by great native artists
of John Evelyn, the other diarist of the Gainsborough and Reynolds appear in full
times. And Lely's portrait of Roches- rivalry. Here are Gainsborough's John
ter, the roué, represented in the charac- son, the well -known profile portrait, and
teristic act of crowning his monkey with Sir Joshua's Boswell; Gainsborough's
laurel,-laurel to which he sometimes Garrick , a most delightful portrait of
aspired himself. And Kneller's portrait Garrick's pleasantest expression, and Sir
of Lord William Russell, with a face that Joshua's Gibbon, which looks as ugly and
answers better to the character of the as conceited as the little man himself.
man, as it appeared before he was brought One of Reynolds's most pleasing por
face to face with death , and forced to traits is his likeness of himself in spec
exert and to display the manlier qualities tacles. It has suffered from the fading
of his nature . of colors and the cracking of the paint,
The men of letters of the end of the as so many of Sir Joshua's best pictures
17th and the beginning of the 18th cen- have done ; but it still presents him amia
tury appear here in great force. With ble, cultivated, and unpretending, the
the faces of most of them the world is accomplished artist and the kindly friend,
familiar. Here are six of the Kit -Kat and affords the best possible illustration
Club portraits that were painted for Jacob of the character which Goldsmith drew
Tonson. First in order Tonson himself, of him in his “ Retaliation . ”
the very personification of the flourishing We pass rapidly before the portraits
publisher and patron of authors, with of the present century. Everyone
the pleasant air of the happy discoverer knows by heart the faces of Scott and
of genius, and the maker of its fortune Byron, Southey and Coleridge. But
as well as of his own . He holds aa folio there is one little portrait, hung at the
copy of “ Paradise Lost ” ; it is Tonson end of the gallery, in front of which we
patting Milton on the back. Dryden, pause. It has no remarkable merit as a
* Mr. Peter Cunningham has quoted these work of art, but it is the portrait of
passages in his excellent catalogue of the gal Keats, painted in Rome by his friend
lery . Severn . The young poet is resting his
42 The Manchester Exhibition . [November,
head on his hand, as if it were heavy and with it both the appreciation and the
tired . His face has a look of illness ; his feeling for what was truly good. A fac
eyes are large, and the spaces around titious taste bad taken the place of honest
them are hollow . His wide and well- and simple likings. The worst things
2

formed brow , and all the features, betray were often preferred , the worst pictures
a temperament delicate, passionate, and bought Artists, as a class, bad given up
sensitive to excess . This portrait was the study of Nature as the foundation of
painted, according to tradition, in the Art; and in the place of Nature, they
little summer-house studio, at the corner had put other men's pictures. They had
of the Via Strozzi. The windows look substituted a system of conventional
out over the garden with its cypress rules and traditional methods, for the in
walks, its old pine trees, its rows of cab finite variety and the unceasing study of
bages and artichokes, its weather-stained truth. They preferred falsehood , they
statues and bits of ancient marbles. liked imitation, and their patrons soon
Beyond are the walls of Rome, and be- came to consider the feeble results of
yond these the Campagna stretches away falsehood and imitation as better than
in level lines of beauty to the blue bil honest work and strong originality. Of
low of the Alban hills. On this view course, here and there was a man whose
the eyes of the dying poet rested, while native love of truth or spirit of opposition
his heart gave no prophecy to him of would give him strength to break loose
coming fame. Would it have cheered from the fetters of artistic convention
him , during those last disheartened days, and prevailing taste, and to exhibit the
to have foreseen that so soon England truth in his pictures. Such a man was
would rank him among her honored the first great artist of the English
children , and place his portrait in the school, Hogarth ; the greatest humorist
gallery of the most worthy of her dead ; of a century rich in humorists, with a
while a line of his writing, “ A thing of knowledge of human nature that re
beauty is a joy forever ,” should be em- minds one sometimes of Fielding's in its
blazoned in glowing letters at the end of clearness and variety, sometimes of Gold
the great hall of her first great Palace smith's in its tender pleasantry. But
of Art ? Hogarth had to struggle all his life
We come now to the northern aisle, against the taste of his time, which was
the aisle which contains the works of the unable to appreciate his merit. He was
British school of painters. It is the most too natural for an artificial age. Among
complete of the sections of this great the pictures exhibited here is one from
collection of pictures, and the lessons his famous series of the Harlot's Prog
which are to be learned from it of the ress . It is too well known by the en
present condition and prospects of Art gravings to need description ; but when
are of the highest interest. Here are the eight masterly pictures which com
six hundred pictures, the English record pose this series were sold at auction
of about a hundred years of painting. during Hogarth's life, they brought the
Never before has there been such a col- sum of fourteen guineas each ! The
lection of the works of English painters, March of the Guards to Finchley, so
and never before has there been an op- admirable in composition, so full of inci
portunity of studying so fully and satis- dent and character, so rich in humor,
factorily the course and progress of the could not be sold by the artist, and he
English school. disposed of it in a lottery, in which many
The beginning of this school hardly tickets were left on his hands. And
dates before the first quarter of the last while this was the fate of works which
century. Public taste was then at its still stand unsurpassed in their peculiar
lowest level. The fall of Art in Italy, in field, the amateurs were paying enormous
the preceding century, had carried down prices for worthless pictures of second
1857.] The Manchester Exhibition . 43

rate Italian masters, and talking about is here for all eyes to see how far the
their “ Correggios and Raphaels and imagination of the President of the
stuff. " Royal Academy differed from that of
From Hogarth to Sir Joshua Reynolds Sbakspeare.
is a wide step. Sir Joshua is well repre- But the principles which Sir Joshua laid
sented here by some thirty pictures; down, though they did not ruin his own
and Gainsborough is at his side with works, did much to ruin those of the
perhaps half as many. If Sir Joshua next generation of painters. There was
had not been a man of genius, he would still the struggle between the painters by
hare been ruined by his academic prin- rule and according to convention, and
ciples. He laid down rules which he the painters of truth as found in Nature.
constantly violated . He praised the Bo- But the painters of Nature were in a
lognese masters, and advised all students minority so small as to be powerless
of Art in Italy to study at Bologna ; but against the prevailing current. Eng
he did not confine himself to the study lish Art seemed to be running down ;
of other men's works, but sometimes cold formalisms, classicalities, extrava
66
gave himself, with honest sincerity and gances, affectations, imitations, “ high
affection, to the study of Nature; and art," occupied the field almost to the ex
thus it is that it becomes hard to draw clusion of better things. West, Fuseli,
the line of praise between some of his Northcote, Barry, Sir Thomas Lawrence,
pictures and some of those by Gains Haydon, Maclise, and Sir Charles East
borough, and to say which are the best. lake form a famous line of painters who
Gainsborough was no academician ; he have been admired, but whose works
did not believe in conventionalities. have little value except as warnings,
When Sir Joshua laid down as a rule and as showing into what errors a false
that blue was bad as a prevailing color method and want of recognition of the
in pictures, Gainsborough painted his foundation and the end of Art may lead
famous Blue Boy, and made one of the men not destitute of ability.
most charming portraits and pleasantest But while these men had their day,
pictures that had ever been painted in the school of the lovers of Nature as seen
England. Look at Sir Joshua's delight in the external world was making irregu
ful, winning Nelly O'Brien ,—what a lar progress. The overwhelming pres
happy picture of a girl and then look sure of conventional traditions is shown
at Gainsborough's Mrs. Graham , with most forcibly, however, by the fact that
her exquisite, perhaps even too exquisite, the great leader of this school of the
beauty ; and see , not which of the artists students of landscape nature, the man to
was the best, for that it is hard to see, whom was given the power to see and to
but how great both were as students and represent Nature in all the changing
renderers of human nature. One of the glories and beauties of her ceaselessly
best of Reynolds's portraits is that of varying moods, the man who knew the
Foote, the actor. He is leaning over a value of truth and set his desires upon it
chair, and his laughing face is looking out accordingly,—that this man should have
from the canvas, as if he were watching been for years of his life kept down to
the effect of one of his own most brilliant the imitation of and competition with the
and easy jokes. But Sir Joshua does works of painters of previous centuries
not compare with Gainsborough in land- who were supposed to have painted land
scape ; there the lover of Nature bad the scapes. But it was Pegasus running a
advantage over the lover of Poussin and race with cart -horses. He had reached
Claude. The famous picture of Puck, the goal which they had never aspired
which Lord Fitzwilliam lately bought at after. There are nineteen pictures of
Mr. Rogers's sale for the extravagant Turner's here at Manchester ; some of
sum of nine hundred and eighty guincas, them among his noblest works. Here
44 The Manchester Exhibition . [ November,
is his Cologne at Sunset; look at 11, for Art in that spirit which the painters be
the picture will fade before your eyes, fore Raphael possessed, the spirit which
and you will stand looking at the golden united Art with Religion ; it means the
glow of evening over the church towers, pursuit of Art with the humility of learn
and the gleaming river of the ancient ers, with the faith of apostles. It does
city. not mean the reproduction of the quaint
With the growth of Turner's pow- nesses, and awkwardnesses, and limita
er, and the commencement of a better tions of the early artists, more than it
period of public taste and feeling, as means the adoption of the errors of their
marked not only in Art, but in letters, creed as exhibited in their paintings;
the study of Nature became more mani- but it means that as those artists broke
fest in the English school. In different loose from the bondage of Byzantine
directions, and with different degrees of captivity, and found in Nature the source
success, many artists, but generally with of all true inspiration , the exhaustless
more or less faltering, broke away from fountain from which their imaginations
the old system . Wilkie, Etty, Constable, might draw perpetual refreshment,-50
Collins, and others, often painted simple these artists who took this name would
and sincere pictures, pictures that showed free themselves from whatever they
careful study and real love of Nature. could discern to be false in the teach
All these artists may be seen to advan- ing and practice of Art in our times,
tage here. But in looking at the mass and give themselves to the study of that
of the collection, one sees that the true beauty and that truth which are to be
principles of Art have not even as yet found in God's world to -day, whether in
been generally recognized by the major external nature or in human hearts, ac
ity of English artists. The last hall of tions, and lives. Truth was to be their
the gallery, which is devoted to the works device ; Nature was to be their mistress.
of living artists, gives especial proof of And in the ardor of youth, they set forth
this fact. But at the same time, it gives for the conquest of new and untravelled
proof of the rise of a spirit among a lands.
small body of the younger painters, It is greatly to be regretted that there
whose influence promises to be of strong should be but an inconsiderable number
and beneficial effect. The artists among of pictures in this last hall of the English
whom this spirit exists are the Pre- gallery by Pre-Raphaelite artists. A little
Raphaelites. private exhibition of seventy -two pictures
Great misconception exists with re- and drawings, by some twenty artists of
gard to the works and to the principles this school, which was held in a small
of Art of this school. The name by house in London, during the month of
which it is known has in part occasioned June, gave a far better view of what had
this misconception . It was not happily been already accomplished by them, of
chosen ; for these Pre-Raphaelites, in- the practical working out of their prin
stead of being three centuries behind their ciples of Art, and of their present tenden
times, are fully up with the day in which cies. Three men stand as the prominent
they live. Pre-Raphaelitism was not in- leaders of the movement, —Rosetti, Hunt,
tended to mean, as it might seem to im and Millais. There is not a single picture
ply, the going back to worn -out and ob- by Rosetti at Manchester ; but two (if we
solete methods of painting, the resort to remember rightly ) by Millais ; and al
past modes of representation ; it does not though there are several by Hunt, there
mean the adoption of the artistic forms, are none of his latest works, nor the
traditions, or rules of the old painters; it most powerful and beautiful of his com
does not mean the seeking of inspiration paratively early ones, the well-known
from the works of any other men ; but, in Light of the World. Rosetti bas never,
theory at least, it means the pursuit of we believe, exhibited in public. But
1857.] The Manchester Exhibition . 45

whether he paint Dante led in a vision London life ; a denunciation of the vice
by Love to see Beatrice lying dead, or of which the world is so careless ; a sad,
the Angel leading King and Shepherd to stern picture of the bitterness of sin .
adore the new -born Saviour, while the Millais is less in earnest, and his pictures,
angelic choir in white robes stand around with many great technical merits, with
the manger in the night, singing their portions of very exquisite painting, have
song of Peace and Good -will, or Queen rarely possessed any great worth as works
Guinever and Sir Lancelot meeting in of imagination. One of the tenderest
the autumn day at King Arthur's tomb, of them all is the Huguenots, the girl
-or Mary of Magdala flying from the and her lover parting, which is now
house of revels, and clasping the alabas becoming generally known through the
ter box of ointment to her bosom ,-or engraving that bas recently been pub
Ophelia redelivering to Hamlet his gifts lished. The Autumn Leaves, which is
of remembrance, while he strips the exhibited at Manchester, is one of his
leaves from a rosetree as he breaks her least satisfactory pictures.
heart,-or the youngfarmer, who, having But all these men are young, and what
driven his cart to London , and crossed they have already accomplished is but as
one of the bridges over the black river, the promise of greater things to come.
finds in the cold , wet morning his old love, It is impossible, however, to look forward
long lost, now fallen at the side of the for these greater things, without a feeling
street, fainting against the dead brick of doubt and uncertainty as to their
wall of a graveyard ; whether he paint being produced. The times in which we
these or other scenes, in all are to be are living are not fitted to develope
found such sense of the higher truths and confirm the qualities on which the
of Nature and such faithful rendering best results of Art depend. Ours is
of them , such force of expression, and neither an age of composure nor of faith.
such beauty of conception, as place It urges speedy results; it desires effec
them as works of imagination among the tive, rather than simple, truthful work.
first that this age has produced. With But the Pre -Raphaelites are exposed to
equal fidelity to Nature, with a more especial dangers ; just now to the dan
definite moral purpose, perhaps with a gers that come from success. And these
more consistent steadiness of work, but are of two kinds ; first, the undermining
with less delicate sense of beauty, and of that humility which is the secret of
with imagination of a very different mastery ; and secondly, the tendency to
order, Hunt stands with Rosetti in the the development of peculiarities and
front ranks of Pre- Raphaelitism . The mannerisms, to the exaggeration of
earnestness and directness of moral ex- special features that have attracted at
pression in most of his pictures is such tention in their work , and which have
as has for a long time been rare in Art. a factitious value set upon them by the
Art is with him a means of enforcing the public, as they are taken to be the signs
recognition of truths often avoided or and passwords of initiation into the new
carefully concealed. Their powerful dra school. But, lying deeper than these,
matic character compels the attention of there is a danger to Pre-Raphaelitism
the careless to his pictures. He paints from the tendency to insist on too literal
Claudio and Isabella in the prison scene , an application of its own principles. The
and it is not merely a vivid rendering of best principles will not include all cases.
the scene in its external features, but The workings and ways of Nature are
also a true rendering of the character of infinite, and the principles of Art are
Claudio and Isabella, of the weakness of finite deductions from these infinite ex
the coward, of the strength that dwells amples. As yet these deductions have
with the pure. His Awakened Con- been but imperfectly made. The most
science is a scene from the interior of exact and truthful representation of
46 The Rommany Girl. [November,
Nature may be the rule of the artist, but which only the greatest painters have
it is not an easy thing to attain to an acquired.
understanding of the truth of Nature. But if Pre- Raphaelitism be true, not
The actual is not always the real. Lit- to the letter, but to the spirit of its prin
eral truth is not always exact truth ; and ciples,—if its artists remain unspoiled by
the seeming truth, which is what Art must flattery and success , —if they avoid man
often represent, is very different from the nerisms, conceits, and the affectations of
absolute truth . And here there has been originality,, if they can keep religious
much stumbling in Pre- Raphaelitism , and faithundimmed by the “ world's slow
there is likelihood of fall ; likelihood of stain " ; then we may expect from the
the actual being mistaken for the real school such works of painting as have not
the show for the essence . It is, indeed, been seen in past times ,—works which
apparently, a tendency toward this error shall be the forerunners of a new period
which has deprived most of the best pic of Art, and shall show what undreamed
tures of the Pre-Raphaelites of the quality conquests yet lie open before it -works
of breadth, a quality which Nature usually which shall take us into regions of yet un
preserves in herself, which in painting discovered beauty, and reveal to us more
takes the place of barmony in music, and and more of the exhaustless love of God.

THE ROMMANY GIRL

The sun goes down, and with him takes

The coarseness of my poor attire;
The fair moon mounts, and aye the flame
Of gypsy beauty blazes higher.
Pale northern girls ! you scorn our race ;
You captives of your air-tight halls,
Wear out in -doors your sickly days,
But leave us the horizon walls.

And if I take you , dames, to task ,

And say it frankly without guile,
Then you are gypsies in a mask,
And I the lady all the while.
If, on the heath, under the moon ,
I court and play with paler blood,
Me false to mine dare whisper none,
One sallow horseman knows me good.

Go, keep your cheek's rose from the rain,

For teeth and hair with shopmen deal;
My swarthy tint is in the grain,
The rocks and forest know it real.
1857.] The Chartist's Complaint.- Days. 47

The wild air bloweth in our lungs,

The keen stars twinkle in our eyes,
The birds gave us our wily tongues,
The panther in our dances fies.
You doubt we read the stars on high,
Nathless we read your fortunes true;
The stars may bide in the upper sky,
But without glass we fathom you.

THE CHARTIST'S COMPLAINT,

Day ! bast thou two faces,

Making one place two places ?
One, by humble farmer seen ,
Chill and wet, unlighted, mean ,
Useful only, triste and damp,
Serving for aa laborer's lamp ?
Have the same mists another side,
To be the appanage of pride,
Gracing the rich man's wood and lake,
His park where amber mornings break ,
And treacherously bright to show
His planted isle where roses glow ?
O Day ! and is your mightiness
A sycophant to smug success ?
Will the sweet sky and ocean broad
Be fine accomplices to fraud ?
O Sun ! I curse thy cruel ray !
Back, back to chaos, harlot Day !

DAYS .

DAUGHTERS of Time, the hypocritic Days,

Muffled and dumb, like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands.
To each they offer gifts, after his will ,
Bread, kingdoms, stars, or sky that holds them all.
I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp,
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I, too late ,
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn .
48 The Autocrat of the Breakfast -table. [ November,

BRAHMA. R. 23.Ernshusere
If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain ,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near,
Shadow and sunlight are the same,
The vanished gods to me appear,
And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;

When me they fly, I am the wings ;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,

And pine in vain the sacred Seven ;
But thou, meek lover of the good !
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven .

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST- TABLE .

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL .

I was just going to say, when I was mathematics, that sounds something like
interrupted, that one of the many ways of it, and you found it, not in the original,
classifying minds is under the heads of but quoted by Dr. Thomas Reid . I will
arithmetical and algebraical intellects. tell the company what he did say, one of
All economical and practical wisdom is these days.
an extension or variation of the following -If I belong to a Society of Mutual
arithmetical formula : 2+2=4. Every Admiration ? -I blush to say that I do
philosophical proposition has the more not at this present moment. I once did,
general character of the expression however. It was the first association to
a+b=c. We are mere operatives, em- which I ever heard the term applied ; a
pirics, and egotists, until we learn to think body of scientific young men in a great
in letters instead of figures. foreign city who admired their teacher,
They all stared. There is a divinity and to some extent each other. Many
student lately come among us to whom I of them deserved it ; they have become
commonly address remarks like the above, famous since. It amuses me to hear the
allowing him to take a certain share in talk of one of those beings described by
the conversation, so far as assent or per Thackeray
tinent questions are involved. He abused 64
· Letters foar do form his name "
his liberty on this occasion by presuming
to say that Leibnitz had the same obser- about a social development which belongs
vation . — No, sir, I replied, he has not. to the very noblest stage of civilization .
But he said a mighty good thing about All generous companies of artists, authors,
1857.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table. 49

philanthropists, men of science, are, or contract between themselves and a pub

ought to be, Societies of Mutual Admira- lisher or dealer.
tion . A man of genius, or any kind of If the Mutuals have really nothing
superiority, is not debarred from admir among them worth admiring, that alters
ing the same quality in another, nor the the question . But if they are men with
other from returning his admiration. They noble powers and qualities, let me tell
may even associate together and continue you, that, next to youthful love and fami
to think highly of each other. And so ly affections, there is no human sentiment
of a dozen such men, if any one place better than that which unites the Socie
is fortunate enough to hold so many. ties of Mutual Admiration. And what
The being referred to above assumes sev- would literature or art be without such
eral false premises. First, that men of associations ? Who can tell what we
talent necessarily hate each other. Sec- owe to the Mutual Admiration Society of
ondly, that intimate knowledge or ha- which Shakspeare, and Ben Jonson, and
bitual association destroys our admiration Beaumont and Fletcher were members ?
of persons whom we esteemed highly at Or to that of which Addison and Steele
a distance. Thirdly, that a circle of formed the centre, and which gave us the
clever fellows, who meet together to dine Spectator ? Or to that where Johnson,
and have a good time, have signed a con- and Goldsmith , and Burke, and Rey
stitutional compact to glorify themselves nolds, and Beauclerk, and Boswell, most
and put down him and the fraction of the admiring among all admirers, met togeth
human race not belonging to their num- er ? Was there any great barm in the
ber. Fourthly, that it is an outrage that fact that the Irvings and Paulding wrote
he is not asked to join them . in company ? or any unpardonablc cabal
Here the company laughed a good in the literary union of Verplanck and
deal, and the old gentleman who sits op- Bryant and Sands, and as many more
posite said , “ That's it ! that's it ! ” as they chose to associate with them ?
I continued , for I was in the talking The poor creature does not know what
rein. As to clever people's hating each he is talking about, when he abuses this
other, I think a little extra talent does noblest of institutions. Let him inspect
sometimes make peoplejealous. They be- its mysteries through the knot -hole he has
come irritated by perpetual attempts and secured, but not use that orifice as a
failures, and it hurts their tempers and medium for his popgun. Such a society
dispositions. Unpretending mediocrity is the crown of aliterary metropolis ; if
is good, and genius is glorious; but a a town has not material for it, and spirit
weak flavor of genius in an essentially and good feeling enough to organize it, it
common person is detestable. It spoils is a mere caravansary, fit for a man of
the grand neutrality of a commonplace genius to lodge in , but not to live in .
character, as the rinsings of an unwashed Foolish people hate and dread and envy
wineglass spoil a draught of fair water. such an association of men of varied
No wonder the poor fellow we spoke of, powers and influence, because it is lofty,
who always belongs to this class of slight- serene, impregnable, and, by the neces
.
ly Aavored mediocrities, is puzzled and sity of the case, exclusive. Wise ones
vexed by the strange sight of a dozen are prouder of the title M. S. M. A. than
men of capacity working and playing of all their other honors put together.
together in harmony. He and his fel- -All generous minds have a horror
lows are always fighting. With them of what are commonly called “ facts. "
familiarity naturally breeds contempt. If They are the brute beasts of the intellec
they ever praise each other's bad draw- tual domain . Who does not know fellows
ings, or broken -winded novels, or spav- that always have an ill-conditioned fact
ined verses, nobody ever supposed it or two that they lead after them into
was from admiration ; it was simply a decent company like so many bull-dogs,
VOL . I. 4
50 The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table. [ November,
ready to let them slip at every ingenious with a request for a few original stanzas,
suggestion, or convenient generalization, not remembering that “ The Pactolian "
or pleasant fancy ? I allow no “ facts ” pays me five dollars a line for every
at this table. What! Because bread is thing I write in its columns.
good and wholesome and necessary and “ Madam ,” said I, (she and the cen
66
nourishing, shall you thrust a crumb into tury were in their teens together,) " all
my windpipe while I am talking ? Do men are bores, except when we want
not these muscles of mine represent a them . There never was but one man

hundred loaves of bread ? and is not my that I would trust with my latch -key."
thought the abstract of ten thousand of “ Who might that favored person be ? ”
these crumbs of truth with which you “ Zimmermann . "
would choke off my speech ? The men of genius that I fancy most
[The above remark must be condi- have erectile heads like the cobra - di-ca
pello. You remember what they tell of
tioned and qualified for the vulgar mind.
The reader will of course understand William Pinkney, the great pleader ;
the precise amount of seasoning which how in his eloquent paroxysms the veins
must be added to it before he adopts it of his neck would swell and his face
as one of the axioms of his life. The flush and his eyes glitter, until he seemed
on the verge of apoplexy. The hydrau
speaker disclaims all responsibility for its
abuse in incompetent hands.] lic arrangements for supplying the brain
with blood are only second in importance
This business of conversation is a very
serious matter. There are men that it to its own organization. The bulbous
weakens one to talk with an hour more headed fellows that steam well when
than a day's fasting would do. Mark they are at work are the men that draw
this that I am going to say, for it is as big audiences and give us marrowy books
good as a working professional man's ad- and pictures. It is a good sign to have
vice, and costs you nothing : It is better to one's feet grow cold when he is writing.
lose a pint of blood from your veins than A great writer and speaker once told me
to have a nerve tapped. Nobody meas- that he often wrote with his feet in hot
ures your nervous force as it runs away, water ; but for this, all his blood would
nor bandages your brain and marrow have run into his head , as the mercury
after the operation. sometimes withdraws into the ball of a
There are men of esprit who are ex- thermometer.
cessively exhausting to some people. -You don't suppose that my re
They are the talkers that have what may marks made at this table are like so
be called jerky minds. Their thoughts many postage -stamps, do you, each to
do not run in the natural order of se- be only once uttered ? If you do, you
quence. They say bright things on all are mistaken. He must be a poor crea
possible subjects, but their zigzags rack ture that does not often repeat himself.
you to death. After a jolting half -hour Imagine the author of the excellent piece
with one of these jerky companions, talk- of advice, “ Know thyself,” never allud
a
ing with a dull friend affords great relief. ing to that sentiment again during the
It is like taking the cat in your lap after course of a protracted existence ! Why,
holding a equirrel. the truths a man carries about with him
What a comfort a dull but kindly are his tools ; and do you think a car
person is, to be sure, at times ! A ground- penter is bound to use the same plane
glass shade over a gas-lamp does not but once to smooth a knotty board with,
bring more solace to our dazzled eyes or to hang up his hammer after it has
than such a one to our minds. driven its first nail ? I shall never re
“ Do not dull people bore you ? ” said peat a conversation, but an idea often.
one of the lady-boarders, -- the same that I shall use the same types when I like,
sent me her autograph-book last week but not commonly the same stereotypes
1857. ] The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table. 51

A thought is often original, though you to be the least human of qualities, and to
have uttered it a hundred times. It has' have the smallest amount of reason in it ;
come to you over a new route, by a new since a machine can be made to do the
and express train of associations. work of three or four calculators, and
Sometimes, but rarely, one may be better than any one of them . Sometimes
caught making the same speech twice I have been troubled that I had not a
over, and yet be held blameless. Thus, deeper intuitive apprehension of the rela
a certain lecturer, after performing in an tions of numbers. But the triumph of
inland city, where dwells a Liuératrice the ciphering hand -organ has consoled
of note, was invited to meet her and me . I always fancy I can hear the
others over the social teacup. She pleas- wheels clicking in a calculator's brain .
antly referred to his many wanderings in The power of dealing with numbers is a
his new occupation. “Yes," he replied, kind of “ detached lever " arrangement,
“ I am like the Huma, the bird that which may be put into a mighty poor
never lights, being always in the cars, as watch. I suppose it is about as common
he is always on the wing." — Years as the power of moving the ears volun
elapsed. The lecturer visited the same tarily, which is a moderately rare endow
place once more for the same purpose. ment.
Another social cup after the lecture, and -Little localized powers, and little
a second meeting with the distinguished narrow streaks of specialized knowledge,
lady.. “ You are constantly going from are things men are very apt to be con
place to place,” she said .— “ Yes," he ceited about Nature is very wise ; but
»
answered, “ I am like the Huma,” — and for this encouraging principle how many
finished the sentence as before. small talents and little accomplishinents
What horrors, when it flashed over would be neglected ! Talk about con
him that he had made this fine speech, ceit as much as you like, it is to human
word for word , twice over ! Yet it was character what salt is to the ocean ; it
not true. as the lady might perhaps have keeps it sweet, and renders it endurable.
fairly inforred, that he had embellished Say rather it is like the natural unguent
his conversation with the Huma daily of the sea-fowl's plumage, which enables
during that whole interval of years. On him to shed the rain that falls on him
the contrary, he had never once thought and the wave in which he dips. When
of the odious fowl until the recurrence one has had all his conceit taken out of
of precisely the same circumstances him, when he has lost all his illusions,
brought up precisely the same idea. He his feathers will soon soak through, and
ought to have been proud of the accu- he will iy no more.
racy of his mental adjustments. Given So you admire conceited people, do
certain factors, and a sound brain should you ? said the young lady who has come
always evolve the same fixed product to the city to be finished off for - the du
with the certainty of Babbage's calculat- ties of life.
ing machine. I am afraid you do not study logic at
-What a satire, by the way , is that your school, my dear. It doesnot follow
machine on the mere mathematician ! A that I wish to be pickled in brine because
Frankenstein -monster, a thing without I like a salt-water plunge at Nahant. I
brains and without heart, too stupid to say that conceit is just as natural a thing
make a blunder ; that turns out formulæ to human minds as a centre is to a circle.
like a comp -sheller, and nevra grows any But little -minded people's thoughts move
wiser or better, though it grind a thou- in such small circles that five minutes'
sand hushels of them ! conversation gives you an arc long
I have an immense respect for a man enough to determine their whole curve.
of talents plus "the mathematics .” But An arc in the movement of a large in
the calculating power alone should seem tellect docs not sensibly differ from a
52 The Autocrat of the Breakfast -table. [November,
straight line. Even if it have the third results to its legitimate meaning, which is
vowel as its centre, it does not soon its life - are alike forbidden . Manslaugh
betray it. The highest thought, that is, ter, which is the meaning of the one, is
is the most seemingly impersonal; it does the same as man's laughter, which is the
not obviously imply any individual cen- end of the other. A pun is primâ facic
tre . an insult to the person you are talking
Audacious self -esteem , with good ground with . It implies utter indifference to or
for it, is always imposing. What re sublime contempt for his remarks, no
splendent beauty that must have been matter how serious. I speak of total de
which could have authorized Phryne to pravity, and one says all that is written
“peel ” in the way she did ! What fine on the subject is deep raving. I have
speeches are those two : “Non omnis committed my self -respect by talking with
moriar,” and “ I have taken all knowls such a person. I should like to commit
edge to be my province ” ! Even in him , but cannot, because he is a nui
common people, conceit has the virtue sance . Or I speak of geological convul
of making them cheerful; the man who sions, and he asks me what was the
thinks his wife, his baby, his house, his cosine of Noah's ark ; also, whether the
horse, his dog, and himself severally un- Deluge was not a deal buger than any
equalled, is almost sure to be a good- modern inundation.
humored person, though liable to be te- A pun does not commonly justify a
dious at times. blow in return . But if a blow were
-What are the great faults of con- given for such cause, and death ensued ,
versation ? Want of ideas, want of the jury would be judges both of the
words, want of manners, are the princi- facts and of the pun, and might, if the
pal ones, I suppose you think. I don't latter were of an aggravated character,
doubt it, but I will tell you what I have return a verdict of justifiable homicide.
found spoil more good talks than any. Thus, in a case lately decided ' before
thing else ;-long arguments on special Miller, J., Doe presented Roe a sub
points between people who differ on the scription paper, and urged the claims of
fundamental principles upon which these suffering humanity. Roe replied by ask
points depend. No men can have satis- ing, When charity was like a top ? It
factory relations with each other until was in evidence that Doe preserved a
6
they have agreed on certain ultimata of dignificd silence. Roe then said , “ When
belief not to be disturbed in ordinary it begins to hum.” Doe then — and not
conversation, and unless they have sense till then - struck Roe, and his head
enough to trace the secondary questions happening to strike a bound volume
depending upon these ultimate beliefs to of the Monthly Rag -bag and Stolen
their source. In short, just as a written Miscellany, intense mortification ensued,
constitution is essential to the best social with a fatal result. The chief laid down
order, so a code of finalities is a neces- his notions of the law to his brother jus
sary condition of profitable talk between tices, who unanimously replied, “ Jest
two persons. Talking is like playing on so.” The chief rejoined, that no man
the harp ; there is as much in laying the should jest so without being punished for
hand on the strings to stop their vibra- it, and charged for the prisoner, who was
tions as in twanging them to bring out acquitted, and the pun ordered to be
their music. burned by the sheriff. The bound vol
-Do you mean to say the pun - ques- ume was forfeited as a deodand, but not
tion is not clearly settled in your minds ? claimed.
Let me lay down the law upon the sub- People that make puns are like wan
ject. Life and language are alike ton boys that put coppers on the rail
sacred . Homicide and verbicide — that road tracks. They amuse themselves
is, violent treatment of aa word with fatal and other children , but their little trick
1857.1 The Autocrat of the Breakfast-lable. 53

may upset a freight train of conversation Tudors grew to regicide and revolution
for the sake of a battered witticism . in the age of the Stuarts .”
I will thank you, B. F.,9 to bring down Who was that boarder that just whis
two books, of which I will mark the pered something about the Macaulay
places on this slip of paper. (While he flowers of literature ? - There was a dead
is gone, I may say that this boy, our silence. — I said calmly, I shall henceforth
landlady's youngest, is called BENJAMIN consider any interruption by a pun as a
FRANKLIN, after the celebrated philoso- hint to change my boarding house. Do
pher of that name. A highly merited not plead my example. If I have used
compliment.) any such, it has been only as a Spartan
I wished to refer to two eminent au- father would show up a drunken helot.
thorities. Now be so good as to listen . We have done with them .
The great moralist says : " To trifle with -If a logical mind ever found out
the vocabulary which is the vehicle of anything with its logic ? -I should say
social intercourse is to tamper with the that its most frequent work was to build
currency of human intelligence. He a pons asinorum over chasms that shrewd
who would violate the sanctities of his people can bestride without such a struc
mother tongue would invade the recesses ture. You can hire logic, in the shape
of the paternal till without remorse, and of a lawyer, to prove anything that you
repeat the banquet of Saturn without an want to prove. You can buy treatises to
indigestion ." show that Napoleon never lived, and that
no battle of Bunker-hill was ever fought.
And, once more, listen to the historian.
“ The Puritans hated puns. The Bish- The great minds are those with a wide
ops were notoriously addicted to them . span, that couple truths related to, but
The Lords Temporal carried them to the far removed from , each other. Logicians
verge of license. Majesty itself must carry the surveyor's chain over the track
have its Royal quibble. « Ye be burly, of which these are the true explorers. I
my Lord of Burleigh,' said Queen Eliz- value a man mainly for his primary rela
abeth, but ye shall make less stir in our tions with truth, as I understand truth ,
realm than my Lord of Leicester . The not for any secondary artifice in handling
gravest wisdom and the highest breeding his ideas. Some of the sharpest men in
lent their sanction to the practice. Lord argument are notoriously unsound in
Bacon playfully declared himself a de- judgment I should not trust the coun
scendant of 'Og, the King of Bashan. sel of a smart debater, any more than
Sir Philip Sidney, with his last breath , that of a good chess-player. Either may
reproached the soldier who brought him of course advise wisely, but not neces
water, for wasting a casque full upon a sarily because he wrangles or plays well.
dying man . A courtier, who saw Othcl- The old gentleman who sits opposite
lo performed at the Globe Theatre, re- got his hand up, as a pointer lifts his
marked, that the blackamoor was a brute, forefoot, at the expression, “ his relations
and not a man . • Thou hast reason ,' re- with truth as I understand truth ,” and
plied a great Lord, ' according to Plato when I had done, sniffed qudibly, and
his saying ; for this be a two-legged ani- said I talked like a transcendentalist.
mal with feathers.' The fatal habit For his part, common sense was good
became universal. The language was cnough for him .
corrupted . The infection spread to the Precisely so, my dear sir, I replied ;
national conscience . Political double common sense , as you understand it.
dealings naturally grew out of verbal We all have to assume a standard of
double meanings. The teeth of the new judgment in our own minds, either of
dragon were sown by the Cadmus who things or persons. A man who is will
introduced the alphabet of equivocation . ing to take another's opinion has to
What was levity in the time of the exercise his judgment in the choice of
54 The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table. [ November,
whom to follow , which is often as nice a Alas ! each hour of daylight tells
A tale of shame so crushing,
matter as to judge of things for one's
self. On the whole, I had rather judge That some turn white as sea-bleached shells,
And some are always blushing.
men's minds by comparing their thoughts
with my own, than judge of thoughts by But when the patient stars look down
On all their light discovers,
knowing who utter them . I must do one The traitor's smile, the murderer's frown,
or the other. It does not follow , of The lips of lying lovers,
course, that I may not recognize another
man's thoughts as broader and deeper They try to shut their saddening eyes,
And in the vain endeavour
than my own ; but that does not neces We see them twinkling in the skies,
sarily change my opinion, otherwise this And so they wink forever.
would be at the mercy of every superior
mind that held a different one. How What do you think of these verses, my
many of our most cherished beliefs are friends ?-Is that piece an impromptu ?
like those drinking -glasses of the ancient said my landlady's daughter. ( Aet. 19+ .
pattern, that serve us well so long as we Tender-eyed blonde. Long ringlets.
keep them in our hand, but spill all if we Cameo pin. Gold pencil-case on a chain .
attempt to set them down ! I have some- Locket. Bracelet. Album . Autograph
times compared conversation to the book. Accordeon. Reads Byron, Tup
Italian game of mora, in which one per, and Sylvanus Cobb, junior, while
player lifts his hand with so many fin- her mother makes the puddings. Says,
gers extended, and the other matches “ Yes ? ” when you tell her anything.)
or misses the number, as the case may Oui et non, ma petite,-Yes and no, my
be with his own. I show my thought child. Five of the seven verses were
another his ; if they agree, well; if they written off-band ; the other two took a
differ, we find the largest common factor, week ,—that is, were hanging round the
if we can, but at any rate avoid disput- desk in a ragged, forlorn, unrhymed con
ing about remainders and fractions, which dition as long as that. All pocts will
is to real talk what tuning an instrument tell you just such stories. C'est le DER
is to playing on it. NIER pas qui coute. Don't you know
-What if, instead of talking this how hard it is for some people to
morning, I should read you a copy of get out of a room after their visit is
verses, with critical remarks by the au- really over ? They want to be off, and
thor ? Any of the company can retire you want to have them off, but they don't
that like. know how to manage it. Onc would
think they had been built in your parlour
When Eve had led her lord away, or study, and were waiting to be launched.
And Cain had killed his brother, I have contrived a sort of ceremonial in
The stars and flowers, the poets say, clined plane for such visitors, which being
Agreed with one another lubricated with certain smooth phrases,
To cheat the cunning tempter's art, I back them down, metaphorically speak
And teach the race its duty, ing, stern -foremost, into their “ native
By keeping on its wicked heart element,” the great ocean of out-doors.
Their eyes of light and beauty. Well, now, there are poems as hard to
A million sleepless lids, they say, get rid of as these rural visitors. They
Will be at least a warning ; come in glibly, use up all the serviceable
And so the flowers would watch by day, rhymes, day, ray, beauty, duty, skies,
The stars from eve to morning. eyes, other, brother, mountain, fountain,
and the like ; and so they go on until you
On hill and prairie, field and lawn,
Their dewy eyes upturning, think it is time for the wind -up, and the
The flowers still watch from reddening dawn wind-up won't come on any terms. So
Till western skies are burning. they lie about until you get sick of the
 55
1857.) The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table.
sight of them , and end by thrusting some It is curious to see how the same
cold scrap of a final couplet upon them , wants and tastes find the same imple
and turning them out of doors. I sus- ments and modes of expression in all
pect a good many “ impromptus ” could times and places. The young ladies of
tell just such a story as the above . — Here Otaheite, as you may see in Cook's Voy
turning to our landlady, I used an illus- ages, had a sort of crinoline arrangement
tration which pleased the company much fully equal in radius to the largest spread
at the time, and has since been highly of our own lady-baskets. When I fling
commended. “ Madam ,” I said , “you a Bay - State shawl over my shoulders, I
can pour three gills and three quarters am only taking a lesson from the climate
of honey from that pint jug, if it is full, in that the Indian had learned before me.
less than one minute ; but, Madam , you A blankel-shawl we call it, and not a
could not empty that last quarter of a plaid ; and we wear it like the aborigi
gill, though you were turned into a nes, and not like the Highlanders.
marble Hebe, and held the vessel upside -We are the Romans of the mod
down for a thousand years." ern world , the great assimilating peo
One gets tired to death of the old, old ple. Conflicts and conquests are of
rhymes, such as you see in that copy of course necessary accidents with us, as
verses, —which I don't mean to abuse , or with our prototypes. And so we come
to praise either. I always feel as if I to their style of weapon. Our army
were a cobbler, putting new top -leathers sword is the short, stiff, pointed gladius
to an old pair of boot-soles and bodies of the Romans ; and the American
when I am fitting sentiments to these bowie -knife is the same tool, modified
venerable jingles. to meet the daily wants of civil society.
youth I announce at this table an axiom not
morning to be found in Montesquieu or the jour
truth
warning.
nals of Congress :
The race that shortens its weapons
Nine tenths of the “ Juvenile Poems" lengthens its boundaries.
written spring out of the above musical Corollary. It was the Polish lance that
and suggestive coincidences. left Poland at last with nothing of her
“ Yes ? ” said our landlady's daughter. own to bound.
I did not address the following remark
to her, and I trust, from her limited range “ Dropped from her nerveless grasp the shat
tered spear ! "
of reading, she will never see it ; I said it
softly to my next neighbour. What business had Sarmatia to be
When a young female wears a flat cir- fighting for liberty with a fifteen -foot pole
cular side -curl, gummed on each temple, between her and the breasts of her ene
--when she walks with a male, not arm mies ? If she had but clutched the old
in arm , but his arm against the back ofRoman and young American weapon ,
hers, and when she says “ Yes ? ” with and come to close quarters, there might
the note of interrogation, you are gen- have been a chance for her ; but it would
erally safe in asking her what wages she have spoiled the best passage in “ The
gets, and who the “ feller ” was you saw Pleasures of Hope ."
her with Self -made men ?-Well, yes. Of
“ What were you whispering ? ” said course every body likes and respects
the daughter of the house, moistening self-made men . It is a great deal better
her lips, as she spoke, in a very engaging to be made in that way than not to be
manner . made at all. Are any of you younger
“ I was only giving some hints on the people old enough to remember that
fine arts . " Irishman's house on the marsh at Cam
“ Yes ? " bridgeport, which house be built from
56 The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table. [ November,
drain to chimney-top with his own hands ? angular, hanging sleeves ; parrot on fist.
It took him a good many years to build A pair of Stuarts, viz ., 1. A superb full
it, and one could see that it was a little blown, mediæval gentleman, with a fierya

out of plumb, and a little wavy in dash of Tory blood in his veins, tempered
outline, and a little queer and uncertain down with that of a fine old rebel grand
in general aspect. A regular hand could mother, and warmed up with the best of
certainly have built a better house ; but old India Madeira ; his face is one flame
it was a very good house for a “ self- of ruddy sunshine ; his ruffled shirt rushes
made ” carpenter's house, and people out of his bosom with an impetuous gen
praised it, and said how remarkably erosity, as if it would drag his heart after
well the Irishman had succeeded. They
it ; and his smile is good for twenty
never thought of praising the fine blocks
thousand dollars to the Hospital, besides
of houses a little farther on. ample bequests to all relatives and de
Your self-made man, whittled into pendants. 2. Lady of the same; re
shape with his own jack -knife, deserves markable cap ; high waist,as in time of
more credit, if that is all, than the regu- Empire ; bust à la Josephine ; wisps of
lar engine-turned article, shaped by the curls, like celery -tips,, at sides of fore
most approved pattern, and French -pol- head ; complexion clear and warm , like
ished by society and travel. But as to rose -cordial.As for the miniatures by
saying that one is every way the equal Malbone, we don't count them in the
of the other, that is another matter. The gallery.
right of strict social discrimination of all Books, too, with the names of old col
things and persons, according to their lege-students in them , -family names ;
merits, native or acquired, is one of the you will find them at the head of their
most precious republican privileges. I respective classes in the days when stu
take the liberty to exercise it, when I dents took rank on the catalogue from
say, that, other things being equal, in most their parents' condition . Elzevirs, with
relations of life I prefer a man of family. the Latinized appellations of youthful
What do I mean by a man of family ? progenitors, and Hic liber est meus on the
-0, I'll give you a general idea of what title-page. A set of Hogarth's original
I mean. Let us give him a first-rate fit plates. Pope, original edition, 15 vol
out ; it costs us nothing. umes, London , 1717. Barrow on the
Four or five generations of gentlemen ver shelves, in folio . Tillotson on the
and gentlewonien ; among them a mem- upper, in a little dark platoon of octo
ber of his Majesty's Council for the Prov- decimos.
ince, a Governor or so , one or two Doc- Some family silver; a string of wed
tors Divinity, a member of Congress, ding and funeral rings; the arms of the
not later than the time of top -boots with family curiously blazoned ; the same in
tassels. worsted, by a maiden aunt.
Family portraits. The member of If the man of family has an old place
the Council, by Smibert. The great to keep these things in, furnished with
merchant- ncle, by Copley, full length, claw -foot chairs and black mahogany
sitting in his armchair, in a velvet cap tables, and tall bevel-edged mirrors, and
and flowered robe, with a globe by him, stately upright cabinets, his outfit is com
to show the range of his commercial plete.
transactions, and letters with large red No, my friends, I go always, other
seals lying round, one directed conspic- things being equal) for the man that
uously to The Honourable etc. etc. inherits family traditions and the cumu
Great-grandmother, by the same artist ; lative humanities of at least four or five
brown satin , lace very fine, hands super- generations. Above all things, as a child ,
1

lative; grand old lady, stiffish, but impos- he should have tumbled about in a li
ing Her mother, artist unknown ; flat, brary. All men are afraid of books, that
 1857.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast-table. 57

have not handled them from infancy. When haberdashers choose the stand
Do you suppose our dear Professor over Whose window hath the broadest light
there ever read Poli Synopsis, or con
bulted Castelli Lexicon, while he was When preachers tell us all they think,
And party leaders all they mean ,
growing up to their stature ? Not he ; When what we pay for, that we drink,
but virtue passed through the hem of From real grape and coffee -bean ,
their parchment and leather garments
whenever he touched them , as the pre When lawyers take what they would give,
And doctors give what they would take ,
cious drugs sweated through the bat's When city fathers eat to live,
handle in the Arabian story. I tell you Save when they fast for conscience' sake,
he is at home wherever he smells the
invigorating fragrance of Russia leather. When one that hath a horse on sale
No self-made man feels so . One may , it Shall bring his merit to the proof,
is true, have all the antecedents I have Without a lie for every nail
spoken of, and yet be a boor or a shabby That holds the iron on the hoof, -
fellow . One may have none of them , When in the usual place for rips
and yet be fit for councils and courts. Our gloves are stitched with special care ,
Then let them change places. Our so And guarded well the whalebone tips
cial arrangement has this great beauty, Where first umbrellas need repair,-
that its strata shift up and down as they When Caba's weeds have quite forgot
change specific gravity, without being The power of suction to resist,
clogged by layers of prescription. But And claret-bottles barbor not
I still insist on my democratic liberty of Such dimples as would hold your fist,
choice, and I go for the man with the
gallery of family portraits against the one When publishers no longer steal,
with the twenty -five -cent daguerreotype, And pay for what they stole before , –
When the first locomotive's wheel
unless I find out that the last is the better
Rolls through the Hoosac tunnel's bore ;
of the two.
- I should have felt more nervous Til then let Cumming blaze away,
about the late comet, if I had thought And Miller's saints blow up the globe ;
the world was ripe. But it is very green But when you see that blessed day,
yet, if I am not mistaken ; and besides, Then order your ascension robe !
there is a great deal of coal to use up, The company seemed to like the ver
which I cannot bring myself to think ses, and I promised them to read others
was made for nothing. If certain things, occasionally, if they had a mind to hear
which seem to me essential to a millen- them . Of course they would not expect
nium , had come to pass, I should have it every morning. Neither must the
been frightened ; but they haven't. Per reader suppose that all these things I
haps you would like to hear my have reported were said at any one
breakfast -time. I have not taken the
LATTER -DAY WARNINGS. trouble to date them, as Raspail, père,
When legisiators keep the law,
used to date every proof he sent to the
When banks dispense with bolts and locks, printer; but they ; were
several breakfasts and Iscattered overa
have said
When berries, whortle - rasp — and straw
Grow bigger downwards through the box,- good many more things since, which I
shall very possibly print some time or
When he that selleth house or land other, if I am urged to do it by judicious
Shows leak in roof or flaw in right, - friends.
58 IUusions. [ November,

ILLUSIONS.

Some years ago, in company with an flaming among them . All the party were 1

agreeable party, I spent a long summer touched with astonishment and pleasure.
day in exploring the Mammoth Cave in Our musical friends sung with much feel
Kentucky. We traversed, through spa- ing a pretty song, “The stars are in the
cious galleries affording a solid masonry quiet sky,” &c., and I sat down on the .

foundation for the town and county over- rocky floor to enjoy the serene picture. 1

head, the six or eight black miles from Some crystal specks in the black ceiling
the mouth of the cavern to the innermost high overhead, reflecting the light of a
recess which tourists visit, -a niche or half -hid lamp, yielded this magnificent
grotto made of one seamless stalactite, effect.
and called, I believe, Serena's Bower. I own , I did not like the care so well
I lost the light of one day. I saw high for eking out its sublimities with this
domes, and bottomless pits ; heard the theatrical trick . But I have had many
voice of unseen waterfalls ; paddled three experiences like it, before and since ; and
quarters of aa mile in the deep Echo Riv- we must be content to be pleased with
er, whose waters are peopled with the out too curiously analyzing the occasions.
blind fish ; crossed the streams “ Lethe ” Our conversation with Nature is not just
and “ Styx "; plied with music and guns what it seems. The cloud -rack, the sun
the echoes in these alarning galleries; rise and sunset glories, rainbows, and
saw every form of stalagmite and sta- northern lights are not quite so spheral .

lactite in the sculptured and fretted as our childhood thought them ; and the
chambers,—the icicle, the orange-flower, part our organization plays in them is too
the acanthus, the grapes, and the snow- large. The senses interfere everywhere, 1
ball. We shot Bengal lights into the and mix their own structure with all they
vaults and groins of the sparry cathe- report of. Once, we fancied the earth a
drals, and examined all the masterpieces plane, and stationary. In admiring the
which the four combined engineers, water, sunset, we do not yet deduct the rounding,
limestone, gravitation , and time, could coördinating, pictorial powers of the eye.
make in the dark. The same interference from our or
The sights and scenery of the cave ganization creates the most of our pleas
had the same dignity that belongs to all ure and pain . Our first mistake is the
natural objects, and which shames the belief that the circumstance gives the
fine things to which we foppishly com- joy which we give to the circumstance.
pare them . I remarked, especially, the Life is an ecstasy. Life is sweet as
mimetic habit, with which Nature, on nitrous oxide ; and the fisherman drip
new instruments, hums her old tunes, ping all day over a cold pond, the switch
making night to mimic day, and chemis- man at the railway intersection, the far
try to ape vegetation . But I then took mer in the field , the Irishman in the
notice, and still chiefly remember, that ditch, the fop in the street, the hunter in
the best thing which the cave had to the woods, the barrister with the jury,
offer was an illusion. On arriving at the belle at the ball, all ascribe a certain
what is called the “ Star -Chamber ," our pleasure to their employment, which
lamps were taken from us by the guide, they themselves give it. Health and
and extinguished or put aside, and, on appetite impart, the sweetness to sugar,
looking upwards, I saw or seemed to see bread , and meat. We fancy that our
the night heaven thick with stars glim- civilization has got on far, but we still
mering more or less brightly over our come back to our primers. Thackeray's
beads, and even what seemed a comet “ Vanity Fair " is pathetic in its name,
1857.] Tlusions . 59

and in his use of the name. It is an fancy pears inour orchards seem to have
admission from a man of the world in been selected by somebody who had a
the London of 1850, that poor old Puri- whim for a particular kind of pear, and
tan Bunyan was right in his perception only cultivated such as had that per
of the London of 1650. And yet now , fume; they were all alike. And I re
in Thackeray, is the added wisdom or member the quarrel of another youth
skepticism , that though this be really so, with the confectioners, that, when he
he must yet live in tolerance of and racked bis wit to choose the best comfits
practically in homage and obedience to in the shops, in all the endless varieties
these illusions. of sweetmeat he could only find three
The world rolls, the din of life is flavors, or two. What then ? Pears
never hushed . In London, in Paris, in and cakes are good for something ; and
Boston, in San Francisco, the carnival, because you, unluckily, have an eye or
the masquerade is at its height. Nobody nose too keen, why need you spoil the
drops his domino. The unities, the fic- comfort which the rest of us find in
tions of the piece it would be an imper- them ? I knew a humorist, who, in a
tinence to break. The chapter of fas- good deal of rattle, had a grain or two
cinations is very long. Great is paint; of sense. He shocked the company by
nay, God is the painter; and we rightly maintaining that the attributes of God
accuse the critic who destroys too many were two,-power and risibility ; and
illusions. Society does not love its un- that it was the duty of every pious man
maskers. It was wittily, if somewhat to keep up the comedy. And I have
bitterly, said by D'Alembert, ““ Un
Un état
état known gentlemen of great stake in the
de vapeur était un état très fâcheur, community, but whose sympathies were
parcequ'il nous faisait roir les choses cold, -presidents of colleges, and gover
comme elles sont. " I find men victims nors, and senators,—who held themselves
of illusion in all parts of life. Children, bound to sign every temperance pledge,
youths, adults, and old men, all are led
and act with Bible societies, and mis
by one bawble or another. Yoganidra, sions, and peacemakers, and cry Hist- a
the goddess of illusion, Proteus, or boy ! to every good dog. We must not
Momus, or Gylfi's Mockingfor the carry comity too far, but we all have
Power has many names , —is stronger kind impulses in this direction. When
than the Titans, stronger than Apollo. the boys come into my yard for leave to
The toys, to be sure, are various, and gather horsechestnuts, I own I enter into
are graduated in refinement to the qual- Nature's game, and affect to grant the
ity of the dupe. The intellectual man permission reluctantly, fearing that any
requires a fine bait ; the sots are easily moment they will find out the imposture
amused. But everybody is drugged with of that showy chaff. But this tender
his own dream , and the pageant marches ness is quite unnecessary ; the enchant
at all hours, with music and banner and ments are laid on very thick. Their
badge. young life is thatched with them . Bare
Amid the joyous troop who give in to and grim to tears is the lot of the chil
the charivari, comes now and then a sad- dren in the hovel I saw yesterday ; yet
eyed boy, whose eyes lack the requisite not the less they hung it round with frip
refractions to clothe the show in due pery romance, like the children of the
glory, and who is afflicted with a ten- happiest fortune, and talked of “ the dear
dency to trace home the glittering mis- cottage where so many joyful hours had
cellany of fruits and flowers to one root. flown . ” Well, this thatching of hovels
Science is a search after identity, and is the custom of the country. Women,
the scientific whim is lurking in all cor- more than all, are the element and king
ners. At the State Fair, a friend of dom of illusion. Being fascinated, they
mine complained that all the varieties of fascinate others. They see through
60 Illusions. [ November,
Claude- Lorraines. And how dare any ' Tis the charm of practical men, that 1
one, if he could, pluck away the coulisses, outside of their practicality are a cer 1
stage effects, and ceremonies, by which tain poetry and play, as if they led the
they live ? Too pathetic, too pitiable, is good horse Power by the bridle, and 1
the region of affection, and its atmos- preferred to walk , though they can ride 1
phere always liable to mirage. 80 fiercely. Bonaparte is intellectual,
We are not very much to blame for as well as Cæsar ; and the best soldiers, 1

1
our bad marriages. We live amid hallu- sea-captains, and railway men have a
cinations ; and this especial trap is laid to gentleness, when off duty ; a good -na 1

trip up our feet with, and all are tripped tured admission that there are illusions, 1

up first or last. But the mighty Mother and who shall say that he is not their 1

who bad been so sly with us, as if she
felt that she owed us some indemnity,
insinuates into the Pandora - box of mar-
riage some deep and serious benefits,
3
sport ? We stigmatize the cast- iron fel
lows, who cannot so 66detach themselves,
as “ dragon -ridden ," “ thunder -stricken ,"
and fools of fate, with whatever powers 3

and some great joys. We find a delight endowed. 3

in the beauty and happiness of children, Since our tuition is through emblems 1

that makes the heart too big for the and indirections, ' tis well to know that
body. In the worst-assorted connections there is method in it, a fixed scale, and
there is ever some mixture of true mar- rank above rank in the phantasms. We 2

riage. Teague and his jade get some begin low with coarse masks, and rise to
just relations of mutual respect, kindly the most subtle and beautiful. The
66
observation, and fostering of each other, red men told Columbus, " they had an
learn something, and would carry them herb which took away fatigue " ; but he
selves wiselier, if they were now to begin. found the illusion of " arriving from the
' Tis fine for us to point at one or east at the Indies ” more composing to
another fine madman , as if there were his lofty spirit than any tobacco. Is not
any exempts. The scholar in his library our faith in the impenetrability of matter
is none. I, who have all my life heard more sedative than narcotics ? You
any number of orations and debates, play with jackstraws, balls, bowls, horse
read poems and miscellaneous books and gun, estates and politics; but there
conversed with many geniuses, am still are finer games before you. Is not time
the victim of any new page ; and, if a pretty toy ? Life will show you
Marmaduke, or Hugh, or Moosehead , masks that are worth all your carnivals.
or any other, invent a new style or Yonder mountain must migrate into your
mythology, I fancy that the world will be mind. The fine stardust and nebulous
all brave and right, if dressed in these blur in Orion, “ the portentous year of
colors, which I had not thought of. Mizar and Alcor,” must come down and
Then at once I will daub with this new be dealt with in your household thought
paint; but it will not stick. ' Tis like the What if you shall come to discern that
cement which the peddler sells at the the play and playground of all this
door ; be makes broken crockery hold pompous history are radiations from
with it, but you can never buy of him a yourself, and that the sun borrows his
bit of the cement which will make it beams ? What terrible questions we are
hold when he is gone. learning to ask ! The former men be
Men who make themselves felt in the lieved in magic, by which temples, cities,
world avail themselves of a certain fate and men were swallowed up, and all
in their constitution, which they know trace of them gone. We are coming on
how to use . But they never deeply the secret of a magic which sweeps out
interest us, unless they lift a corner of of men's minds all vestige of theism and
the curtain , or betray never so slightly beliefs which they and their fathers held
their penetration of what is behind it. and were framed upon.
1857.] Ilusions. 61

With such volatile elements to work to our various fortune. If life seems a
in, ' tis no wonder if our estimates are succession of dreams, yet poetic justice
loose and floating. We must work and is done in dreams also . The visions of
affirm , but we have no guess of the value good men are good ; it is the undis
of what we say or do. The cloud is ciplined will that is whipped with bad
now as big as your hand, and now it thoughts and bad fortunes. When we
covers a county. That story of Thor, break the laws, we lose our hold on the
who was set to drain the drinking -born central reality. Like sick men in hos
in Asgard, and to wrestle with the old pitals, we change only from bed to bed,
woman, and to run with the runner Lok, from one folly to another ; and it cannot
and presently found that he had been signify much what becomes of such cast
drinking up the sea, and wrestling with aways, - wailing, stupid, comatose crea
Time, and racing with Thought, de- tures,-lifted from bed to bed, from the
scribes us who are contending, amid nothing of life to the nothing of death .
these seeming trifles, with the supreme In this kingdom of illusions we grope
energies of Nature. We fancy we have eagerly for stays and foundations. There
fallen into bad company and squalid is none but a strict and faithful dealing
condition , low debts, sboe -bills, broken at home, and a severe barring out of all
glass to pay for, pots to buy, butcher's duplicity or illusion there. Whatever
meat, sugar, milk , and coal. " Set me games are played with us, we must play
some great task, ye gods ! and I will no games with ourselves, but deal in our
show my spirit.” “ Not so," says the privacy with the last honesty and truth.
good Heaven ; “plod and plough, vamp I look upon the simple and childish vir
your old coats and hats, weave a shoe- tues of veracity and honesty as the root
string ; great affairs and the best wine of all that is sublime in character. Speak
by and by." Well, 'tis all phantasm ; as you think, be what you are, pay your
and if we weave a yard of tape in all debts of all kinds. I prefer to be owned
humility and as well as we can , long as sound and solvent, and my word as
hereafter we shall see it was no cotton good as my bond, and to be what cannot
tape at all, but some galaxy which we be skipped, or dissipated, or undermined ,
braided , and that the threads were Time to all the éclat in the universe. A little
and Nature. integrity is better than any career. This

We cannot write the order of the reality is the foundation of friendship,

variable winds. How can we penetrate religion, poetry, and art. At the top or
the law of our shifting moods and sus- at the bottom of all illusions I set the
ceptibility ? Yet they differ as all and cheat which still leads us to work and
nothing. Instead of the firmament of live for appearances, in spite of our ton
yesterday, which our eyes require, it is viction, in all sane hours, that it is what
to-day an eggshell which coops us in ; we really are that avails with friends,
we cannot even see what or where our with strangers, and with fate or fortune.
stars of destiny are . From day to day, One would think from the talk of men ,
the capital facts of human life are hidden that riches and poverty were a great
from our eyes. Suddenly the mist rolls matter ; and our civilization mainly re
up, and reveals them , and we think how spects it. But the Indians say, that they
much good time is gone, that might have do not think the white man with his brow
been saved, had any hint of these things of care, always toiling, afraid of heat and
been shown. A sudden rise in the road cold , and keeping within doors, has any
shows us the system of mountains, and advantage of them . The permanent
all the summits, which have been just as interest of every man is, never to be in a
near us all the year, but quite out of false position, but to have the weight of
mind. But these alternations are not Nature to back him in all that he does.
without their order, and we are parties Riches and poverty are a thick or thin
62 The Gift of Tritemius. [ November,
costume ; and our life — the life of all of of all creatures ! the conceit of knowledge
us - identical. For we transcend the cir- which proceeds from ignorance ." And
cumstance continually, and taste the real the beatitude of man they hold to lie in
quality of existence ; as in our employ- being freed from fascination.
ments, which only differ in the manipula- The intellect is stimulated by the state
tions, but express the same laws; or inment of truth in a trope, and the will by
our thoughts, which wear no silks, and clothing the laws of life in illusions. But
taste no ice -creams. We see God face to the unities of Truth and of Right are not
face every hour, and know the savour of broken by the disguise. There need
Nature. never be any confusion in these . In a
The early Greek philosophers Herac- crowded life of many parts and perform
litus and Xenophanes measured their ers, on a stage of nations, or in the ob
force on this problem of identity. Dio- scurest hamlet in Maine or California,
genes of Apollonia said, that unless the the same elements offer the same choices
atoms were made of one stuff, they could to each new comer, and, according to
never blend and act with one another. his election , he fixes his fortune in abso
But the Hindoos, in their sacred writings, lute nature. It would be hard to put
express the liveliest feeling, both of the more mental and moral philosophy than
essential identity, and of that illusion the Persians have thrown into a sen
which they conceive variety to be. “ The tence :
notions, • I am ,'and “ This is mine,' which “ Fooled thou must be, though wisest of the
influence mankind, are but delusions of wise :
the mother of the world. Dispel, O Lord Then be the fool of virtue, not of vice."

THE GIFT OF TRITEMIUS.

TRITEMIUS of Herbipolis one day,

While kneeling at the altar's foot to pray,
Alone with God, as was his pious choice,
Heard from beneath a miserable voice,
A sound that seemed of all sad things to tell,
As of a lost soul crying out of hell.
Thereat the Abbot rose , the chain whereby
His thoughts went upward broken by that cry,
And, looking from the casement, saw below
A wretched woman , with gray hair aflow,
And withered hands stretched up to him, who cried
For alms as one who might not be denied.
She cried : “ For the dear love of Him who gave
His life for ours, my child from bondage save,
My beautiful, brave first-born , chained with slaves
In the Moor's galley, where the sun -smit waves
Lap the white walls of Tunis ! ” “ What I can
I give,” Tritemius said , — “ my prayers.” “ O man
1857.] The Mourning Veil. 63

Of God ! " she cried, for grief had made her bold,
“ Mock me not so ; I ask not prayers, but gold ;
Words cannot serve me, alms alone suffice ;
Even while I plead , perchance my first-born dies ! ”
6 Woman ! ” Tritemius answered , “ from our door
None go unfed ; hence are we always poor.
A single soldo is our only store.
Thou hast our prayers ; what can we give thee more ? "
“ Give me," she said , “ the silver candlesticks
On either side of the great crucifix ;
God well may spare them on His errands sped,
Or He can give you golden ones instead. ”
Then said Tritemius, “ Even as thy word ,
Woman , so be it ; and our gracious Lord ,
Who loveth mercy more than sacrifice,
Pardon me if aa human soul I prize
Above the gifts upon His altar piled !
Take what thou askest, and redeem thy child .”
But his hand trembled as the holy alms
He laid within the beggar's eager palms;
And as she vanished down the linden shade,
He bowed his head and for forgiveness prayed.

So the day passed ; and when the twilight came

He rose to find the chapel all a -flame,
And, dumb with grateful wonder, to behold
Upon the altar candlesticks of gold !

THE MOURNING VEIL .

Tben in life's goblet freely press

The leaves that give it bitterness,
Nor prize the colored waters legs ,
For in thy darkness and distress
New light and strength they give

And he who has not learned to know

How false its sparkling bubbles flow ,
How bitter are the drops of woe
With which its brim way overflow ,
He has not learned to live. LONOFELLOW .

It was sunset The day had been twenty -four hours had melted it like the
one of the sultriest of August. It would pearl in the golden cup of Cleopatra, and
seem as if the fierce alembic of the last it lay in the West a fused mass of trang
64 The Mourning Veil. [ November,
parent brightness. The reflection from chance has yet shown the frail basis
the edges of a hundred clouds wandered on which human hopes are built. Her
hither and thither, over rock and tree foot had as yet trod only the high places
and flower, giving a strange, unearthly of life , but she walked there with a nat
a

brilliancy to the most familiar things. ural grace and nobleness that made
A group of children had gathered every one feel that she was made for
about their mother in the summer -house them and they for her.
of a garden which faced the sunset sky. Around the parents were gathered at
The house was one of those square, this moment a charming group of chil
stately, wooden structures, white, with dren, who with much merriment were
green blinds, in which of old times the proceeding to undo a bundle the father
better classes of New England delighted, had just brought from the city.
66
and which remain to us as memorials of Here, Rose,” said little Amy, a bluc
a respectable past. It stood under the eyed, flaxen -haired pet, who seemed to
arches of two gigantic elms, and was be a privileged character, “ let me come ;
flanked on either side with gardens and don't be all night with your orderly ways ;
grounds which seemed designed on pur- let me cut that string." A sharp flash
pose for hospitality and family freedom . of the scissors, a quick report of the
The evening light colored huge bos- bursting, string, and the package lay
quets of petunias, which stood with their opened to the little marauder. Rose
white or crimson faces looking westward, drew back, smiled, and gave an indulgent
as if they were thinking creatures. It look at her eager younger sister and the
two little ones who immediately gathered
illumined flame-colored verbenas, and tall
columns of pink and snowy phloxes, and around. She was one of those calm ,
hedges of August roses, making them ra- thoughtful, womanly young girls, that
diant as the flowers of a dream . seem born for pattern elder sisters, and
The group in the summer-house re- for the stay and support of mothers'
quires more particular attention. The hearts. She watched with a gentle, quiet
father and mother, whom we shall call curiosity the quick and eager fingers
Albert and Olivia, were of the wealthiest that soon were busy in exposing the
class of the neighbouring city, and had mysteries of the parcel.
been induced by the facility of railroad “ There's a dress for Rosc,” said Amy,
travelling, and a sensible way of viewing triumphantly drawing out a delicate mus
things, to fix their permanent residence lin ; “ I can always tell what's for her.”
in the quiet little village of Q- Al- “ How ? ” put in the father, who stood
bert had nothing in him different from regarding the proceeding with that air of
multitudes of hearty, joyous, healthily amused superiority with which the wear-.
constituted men, who subsist upon daily ers of broadcloth look down on the mys
newspapers, and find the world a most teries of muslin and barége.
comfortable place to live in. As to Olivia, “ Ilow ? ” said Amy, “ why, because
she was in the warm noon of life, and a they look just like her. If I were to see
picture of vitality and enjoyment. A that lilac muslin in China, I should say
plump, firm chcek, a dark eye, a mother- it was meant for Rose. Now this is mine,
ly fulness of form , spoke the being made I know ,—this bright pink ; isn't it, mam
to receive and enjoy the things of earth, ma ? No half shades about me ! ”
the warm -hearted wife, the indulgent “ No, indeed,” said her mother ; “ that
mother, the hospitable mistress of the is your greatest fault, Amy.”
mansion . It is true that the smile on Oh, well, mamma, Rose has enough
the lip had something of earthly pride for both ; you must rub us together, as
blended with womanly sweetness,—the they do light red and Prussian blue, to
pride of one who has as yet known only make a neutral tint. But oh, what aa rib
prosperity and success, to whom no mis- bon ! oh, mother, what a love of a ribbon !
1857.] The Mourning Veil. 65

Rose ! Rose ! look at this ribbon ! And God sometimes gives to good men a
oh, those buttons! Fred, I do believe guileless and holy second childhood, in
they are for your new coat! Oh, and which the soul becomes childlike, not
those studs, father, where did you get childish, and the faculties in full fruit and
them ? What's in that box ? a bracelet ripeness are mellow without sign of de
for Rose, I know ! oh, how beautiful! cay. This is that songful land of Beulah,
perfectly exquisite ! And here - oh ! ” where they who have travelled manfully
Here something happened to check the Christian way abide awhile to show
the volubility of the little speaker; for as the world a perfected manhood. Life,
she hastily, and with the license of a pet- with its battles and its sorrows, lies far
ted child, pulled the articles from the behind them ; the soul has thrown off its
parcel, she was startled to find lying armor, and sits in an evening undress of
among the numerous colored things a calm and holy leisure. Thrice blessed the
black crape veil. Sombre, dark, and ill- family or neighborhood that numbers
omened enough it looked there, with among it one of these not yet ascended
pink, and lilac, and blue, and glitter- saints ! Gentle are they and tolerant, apt
ing bijouterie around it ! to play with little children, easy to be
Amy dropped it with instinctive repug. pleased with simple pleasures, and with a
Dance, and there was a general exclama- pitying wisdom guiding those who err.
tion, “ Mamma, what's this ? how came it New England has been blessed in num
here ? what did you get this for ? "
66
bering many such among her country
“ Strange ! ” said Olivia ; “ it is a pastors; and a spontaneous, instinctive
mourning veil. Of course I did not or- deference onors them with the title of
der it. How it came in here nobody Father.
knows; it must have been a mistake of Father Payson was the welcome in
the clerk . " mate of every family in the village, the
“ Certainly it is a mistake, ” said Amy ; chosen friend even of the young and
a we have nothing to do with mourning, thoughtless. He had stories for children,
have we ? ” jokes for the young, and wisdom for all.
“ No, to be sure ; what should we He “ talked good ," as the phrase goes,
mourn for ? ” chimed in little Fred and —not because he was the minister, but
Mary. because, being good, he could not help it ;
“ What a dark, ugly thing it is ! ” said yet his words, unconsciously to himself,
Amy, unfolding and throwing it over her were often parables, because life to him
head ; “ how dismal it must be to see the had become all spiritualized, and he saw
world through such a veil as this ! ” sacred meanings under worldly things.
“ And yet till one has seen the world The children seized him lovingly by
through a veil like that, one has never either hand and seated him in the ar
truly lived,” said another voice, joining bor.
in the conversation . “ Is’nt it strange," said Amy, “ to see
“Ah, Father Payson, are you there ? " this ugly black thing among all these
said two or three voices at once . bright colors ? such a strange mistake in
Father Payson was the minister of the clerk ! "
the village, and their nearest neighbor ; “ If one were inclined to be supersti
and not only their nearest neighbor, tious,” said Albert, “ he might call this
but their nearest friend. In the after- an omen . "
noon of his years, life's day with him " What did you mean , sir,” asked
now stood at that hour when, though the Rose, quietly seating herself at his feet,
shadows fall eastward, yet the colors are “ by seeing life through this veil ' ? "
warmer, and the songs of the birds “ It was a parable, my daughter,” he
sweeter, than even in its jubilant morn- said , laying his hand on her head.
ing. “ I never have had any deep sorrow ,"
VOL . I. 5
66 The Mourning Veil. [ November,
said Olivia, musingly ; “ we have been Rose daily with a restful and trusting
favored ones hitherto. But why did you pride.
say one must see the world through such At this moment she laid her hand on
a medium as this ? ” Father Payson's knee, and said earnestly,
“ Sorrow is God's school,” said the old _ “ Ought we to pray for sorrow , then ? ”
man . “ Even God's own Son was not “ Oh, no, no, no ! " interrupted Olivia,
made perfect without it ; though a son , with an instinctive shudder, such a
yet learned he obedience by the things shudder as a warm , earnest, prosperous
that he suffered. Many of the brightest heart always gives as the shadow of the
virtues are like stars ; there must be grave falls across it , — “ don't say yes ! ”
night or they cannot shine. Without “ I do not say we should pray for it,”
suffering, there could be no fortitude, said Father Payson ; " yet the Master
no patience, no compassion, no sym- says, • Blessed are they that mourn ,' not
pathy. Take all sorrow out of life, and • Blessed are they that prosper.' So
you take away all richness and depth heaven and earth differ in their judo
and tenderness. Sorrow is the fur- ments . "
nace that melts selfish hearts together “ Ah, me ! ” said Olivia, “ I am afraid I
in love. Many are hard and inconsid- have not courage to wish to be among
erate, not because they lack capability the blessed .”
of feeling, but because the vase that “ Well,” said Albert, whom the grav
holds the sweet waters has never been ity of the discussion somewhat disturbed.
broken .” “ let us not borrow trouble ; time enough
“ Is it, then, an imperfection and mis-to think of it when it happens. Come,
fortune never to have suffered ? " said the dew is falling, let us go in. I want to
Olivia. show Father Payson some peaches that
Father Payson looked down. Rose will tempt his Christian graces to envy.
was looking into his face . There was a Come, Rose, gather up here . "
bright, eager, yet subdued expression in Rose, in a few moments, gathered the
her eyes that struck him ; it had often parcel together, and quietly fitted before
struck him before in the village church. them into the house.
It was as if his words had awakened an “ Now,” said Albert, “ you'll see that
internal angel, that looked fluttering out girl will have everything quietly tucked
behind them . Rose had been from child- away in just the right place ; not a word
hood one of those thoughtful, listening said . She is a born housewife; it's in
children with whom one seems to com- her, as much as it is in a pointer to show
mune without words. We spend hours game."
talking with them , and fancy they have “ Rose is my right hand ,” said Olivia ;
said many things to us, which, on reflec- “ I should be lost without her.”
tion, we find have been said only with Whence comes it, that, just on the
their silent answering eyes. Those who verge of the great crises and afflictions
talk much often reply to you less than of life, words are often spoken, that, to
those who silently and thoughtfully listen . after view, seem to have had a pro
And so it came pass, that, on account phetic meaning ? So often do we hear
of this quietly absorbent nature, Rose had people saying, “ Ah, the very day before
grown to her parents' hearts with a pe- I heard of this or that, we were saying
culiar nearness. Eighteen summers had so and so ! ” It would seem sometimes as
perfected her beauty. The miracle of if the soul felt itself being drawn with
the growth and perfection of a human in the dark sphere of a coming evil,
body and soul never waxes old ; parents of which as yet nothing outward tells.
marvel at it in every household as if a Then the thoughts and conversation flow
child had never grown before ; and so in an almost prophetic channel, which a
Olivia and Albert looked on their fair coming future too well interprets.
1857.] The Mourning Veil. 67

The cvening passed cheerfully with The apartment of Rose opened into the
our friends, notwithstandingthe grave nursery, and as she stood in her night
conversation in the arbor. The mourn- dress before her mirror, arranging her
ing veil was laid away in a drawer along hair, she saw the flashing of the flame,
with many of its brilliant companions, and, in the one idea of saving her little
and with it the thoughts it had sug- sister, forgot every other. That act of
gested ; and the merry laugh ringing self-forgetfulness was her last earthly
from the half-open parlor-door showed act ; a few short hours of patient suf
that Father Payson was no despiser of fering were all that remained to her.
the command to rejoice with them that Peacefully as she bad lived, she died,
do rejoice. looking tenderly on her parents out of
Rose played and sung, the children her large blue eyes, and only intent to
danced, and the mirth was prolonged till soothe their pain.
a late hour in the evening. “ Yes, I suffer,” she said , “ but only a
Olivia and Albert were lingering in short pain. We must all suffer some
the parlor after the departure of the thing. My Father thinks a very little
family, busy in shutting windows, setting enough for me. I have had such a
back chairs, and attending to all the last happy life, I might bear just a little pain
duties of orderly householders. at the last. "
A sudden shrick startled them ; such a A little later her mind seemed to wan
»

shriek as, once heard , is never forgotten. der. “ Mamma, mamma," she said, hur
With an answering cry of horror, they riedly, " I put the things all away ; the
rushed up the stairs. The hall lamp llac muslin and the barége. Mamma,
had been extinguished, but the passage that veil, the mourning veil, is in the
and staircase were red with a broad drawer. Oh, mamma, that veil was for
glare from the open door of the nursery. you ; don't refuse it ; our Father sends it,
A moment more showed them the and he knows best. Perhaps you will
drapery of the bed in which their young- see heaven through that veil.”
est child was sleeping all in flames ; then It is appalling to think how near to
they saw a light form tearing down the the happiest and most prosperous scene
blazing curtains. of life stands the saddest despair. All
“ Oh, Rose ! Rose ! take carc, for God's homes are haunted with awful possibili
sake ! your dress ! you'll kill yourself! ties, for whose realization no array of
oh, God help us ! ” threatening agents is required ,-no light
There were a few moments — awful ning, or tempest, or battle ; a peaceful
moments of struggle — when none knew household lamp, a gust of perfumed
or remembered what they did ; a mo- evening air, a false step in a moment
ment more and Rose lay panting in her of gayety, a draught taken by mistake,
father's arms, enveloped in a thick a match overlooked or mislaid , a mo
blanket which he had thrown around ment's oversight in handling a deadly
her burning night-dress. The fire was weapon , -and the whole scene of life
extinguished, the babe lay unawakened, is irretrievably changed !
and only the dark flecks of tinder scat- It was but a day after the scene in the
tered over the bed, and the trampled arbor, and all was mourning in the so
mass on the floor, told what had been . lately happy, hospitable house ; every
But Rose had breathed the hot breath of body looked through tears. There were
the flame, deadly to human life, and no subdued breathings, a low murmur, as
water could quench that inward fire. of many listeners, a voice of prayer, and
A word serves to explain all. The the wail of a funeral hymn, -- and then
child's nurse had carelessly set a lamp the heavy tread of bearers, as, beneath
too near the curtains, and the night the black pall, she was carried over the
breeze had wafted them into the flame. threshold of her home, never to return.
68 The Mourning Veil. [ November,
And Olivia and Albert came forth be- as a mother waits on the crisis of a fever
hind their dead. The folds of the dark whose turning is to be for life or for
veil seemed a refuge for the mother's death ; for he well knew that great sor
Borrow . But how did the flowers of rows never leave us as they find us ; that
home, the familiar elms, the distant smil. the broken spirit, ill set, grows callous
ing prospect look through its gloomy and distorted ever after.
folds, -emblem of the shadow which He had wise patience with every stage
had fallen between her heart and life ? of sorrow ; he knew that at first the soul
When she looked at the dark moving is blind, and deaf, and dumb. He was
hearse, she wondered that the sun still not alarmed when returning vitality
shone, that birds could sing, and that showed itself only in moral spasms and
even her own flowers could be so bright convulsions; for in all great griefs come
Ah, mother ! the world had been just hours of conflict, when the soul is tempt
as full of sorrow the day before ; the aired, and complaining, murmuring, dark,
as full of “ farewells to the dying and skeptical thoughts are whirled like with
mournings for the dead ” ; but thou ered leaves through all its desolate
knewest it not ! Now the outer world chambers .
comes to thee through the mourning veil ! “ What have I learned by looking
But after the funeral comes life again, through this veil ? ” said Olivia to him ,
-hard, cold , inexorable life, knocking bitterly, one day when they were coming
with business-like sound at the mourner's out of a house where they had been
door, obtruding its common-place perti- visiting a mourning family. “ I was
nacity on the dull ear of sorrow . The trusting in God as an indulgent Father ;
world cannot wait for us ; the world life seemed beautiful to me in the light of
his goodness ; now I see only his in
knows no leisure for tears ; it moves on-
ward, and drags along with its motion flexible severity. I never knew before
the weary and heavy-laden who would how much mourning and sorrow there
fain rest. had been even in this little village.
Olivia would have buried herself in herThere is scarcely a house where some
Sorrows. There are those who refuse to thing dreadful has not at some time hap
be comforted . The condolence of friends pened . How many families here have
seems only a mockery ; and truly, noth- been called to mourning since we have !
ing so shows the emptiness and poverty I have not taken up a paper in which I
of human nature as its efforts at condo have not seen a record of two or three
lence. accidental deaths ; some of them even
Father Payson, however, was a visitor more bitter and cruel than what has
who would not be denied ; there was befallen us. I read this morning of a
something of gentle authority in his white poor washerwoman, whose house was
hairs that might not be resisted. Old, and burned, and all her children consumed ,
long schooled in sorrow , his heart many while she was away working for her
times broken in past years, he knew all bread. I read the other day of a blind
the ways of mourning. His was no official man whose only son was drowned in his
common -place about “ afflictive dispensa- very presence, while he could do nothing
tions." He came first with that tender to help him . I was visiting yesterday
and reverent silence with which the that poor dress-maker whom you know.
man acquainted with grief approaches She has by toil and pains been educating
the divine mysteries of sorrow ; and a fine and dutiful son . He is smitten
from time to time he cast on the troubled down with hopeless disease, while her
waters words, dropped like seeds, not for idiot child , who can do nobody any good,
present fruitfulness, but to germinate is spared. Ah, this mourning veil has
after the floods had subsided. indeed opened my eyes; but it has taught
He watched beside a soul in affliction me to add all the sorrows of the world to
1857.] The Mourning Veil. 69

my own ; and can I believe in God's widen and deepen it Ours is a religion
love ? " of sorrow .The Captain of our salvation
“ Daughter," said the old man, “ I am was made perfect through suffering ; our
not ignorant of these things. I have Father is the God of all consolation ; our
buried seven children ; I have buried my Teacher is named the Comforter ; and all
wife ; and God has laid on me in my other mysteries are swallowed up in the
time reproach, and controversy , and con- mystery of the Divine sorrow . In all
tempt. Each cross seemed , at the time, our afflictions He is afflicted .' God re
heavier than the others. Each in its day fuseth not to suffer ;-shall we ? ”
seemed to be what I least could bear ;
6
There is no grave so desolate that
and I would have cried, · Anything but flowers will not at last spring on it.
this ! ' And yet, now when I look back, Time passed with Albert and Olivia
I cannot see one of these sorrows that with healing in its wings. The secret
has not been made a joy to me. With place of tears became first a temple of
every one some perversity or sin bas prayer, and afterwards of praise ; and the
been subdued , some chain unbound, heavy cloud was remembered by the
some good purpose perfected. God has flowers that sprung up after the rain .
taken my loved ones, but he has given The vacant chair in the household circle
me love. He has given me the power of had grown to be a tender influence, not
submission and of consolation ; and I a harrowing one ; and the virtues of the
have blessed him many times in my min- lost one seemed to sow themselves like
istry for all I have suffered , for by it the scattered seeds of a fallen flower, and
I have stayed up many that were ready to spring up in the hearts of the surviving
to perish. " ones . More tender and more blessed is
“ Ah,” said Olivia , “you indeed have often the brooding influence of the sacred
reason to be comforted, because you can dead than the words of the living.
see in yourself the fruit of your sorrows; Olivia became known in the abodes
but I am not improving ; I am only of sorrow , and a deep power seemed
crushed and darkened, not amended ." given her to console the suffering and
“ Have patience with thyself, child ; distressed. A deeper power of love
weeping must endure for a night; all sprung up within her ; and love, though
comes not at once . « No trial for the born of sorrow , ever brings peace with
present seemeth joyous' ; but 6afterwards it. Many were the hearts that reposed
it yieldeth the peaceable fruit '; - have on her; many the wandering that she
faith in this afterwards. Some one says reclaimed, the wavering that she upheld,
that it not in the tempest one walks the desolate that she comforted . As a
the beach to look for the treasures of soul in heaven may look back on earth,
wrecked ships ; but when the storm is and smile at its past sorrows, so , even
past we find pearls and precious stones here, it may rise to a sphere where it
washed ashore. Are there not even now may look down on the storm that once
some of these in your path ? Is not threatened to overwhelm it.
the love between you and your husband It was on the afternoon of just such
deeper and more intimate since this another summer day we have de
affliction ? Do you not love your other scribed at the opening of our story, that
children more tenderly ? Did you not Olivia was in her apartment, directing
tell me that you had thought on the sor- the folding and laying away of mourning
rows of every house in this village ? garments. She took up the dark veil
Courage, my child l that is a good sign. and looked on it kindly, as on a faithful
Once, as you read the papers, you friend. How much had she seen and
thought nothing of those who lost friends; learned behind the refuge of its sheltering
now you notice and feel. Take the sor- folds! She turned her thoughts within
rows of others to your heart ; they shall herself. She was calm once more, and
70 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer . [ November,
happy, --happy with a wider and steadier Yes, there by the smiling image of the
basis than ever before . A new world lost one,-by the curls of her glossy hair,
seemed opened within her ; and with a -by the faded flowers taken from her
heart raised in thankfulness she placed bier, was laid in solemn thankfulness the
the veil among her most sacred treasures. Mourning Veil.

PENDLAM : A MODERN REFORMER .

My theatre going friend pulled up “ Don't think to disarm me by a pleas

suddenly in his ambling discourse con- antry,” replied Pendlam , brandishing his
cerning the merits of the last actress, spiritual weapon . “ This is my sermon
dropped his voice to a whisper, touched on the theatre, which you engaged to
my arm , and pointed with his cane. hear me prcach ; I have had it printed
“ Look ! the Reverend John Henry for you."
Pendlam ! ” “ Really,” said Horatio, with aa humor
“ Coming out of a bar-room ! Ho, ho ! ous smile, “ I had forgotten my promise.
Sir Reverend ! " Besides, I was engaged ,-let me see, it
I spoke gayly, but with an indefinably was two Sundays ago, wasn't it ?-yes, I
serious sentiment at heart. I was inter- was engaged to dine with Miss Keller
ested in this John Henry Pendlam ; not ton . "
particularly on account of the reputation “ The actress ! On Sunday ! " said
for eloquence and zeal which he had so Pendlam , with a shocked expression.
early and rapidly achieved, but his ap- “ But you might have heard me in the
proaching marriage with my friend's sec- morning.”
ond cousin, Susan D- (whom I had
7 “ In the morning we rode together,"
myself even barely escaped marrying ) laughed Horatio.
quickened a personal curiosity regarding I knew all this was a fiction on the
my successor. part of my friend, designed to mystify
“ He is on no base errand,” replied the minister. I said nothing, to avoid an
Horatio. “ He goes about carrying the introduction ; I had stepped aside, and
Gospel into these dens. The papers you now stood, amused and observant, under
see in his hand are tracts. Shall I intro the street lamp. Pendlam especially I
duce you ? ” studied, with one eye (figuratively speak
Before I could fairly answer, No, ( for I ing) on him , and the other on Susan.
felt a repugnance to making the acquaint- I compared him with myself, and had no
ance of any man who was to marry doubt but she was weak enough to con
Susan ,) Pendlam , standing a moment in sider him the handsomer man of the two.
the gas-light before the door of the sa- He was of medium height, slightly built,
loon, observed my friend, and advanced of a nervous temperament, with bright,
quickly. quick -glancing eyes, and vehement gest
“ Too late to escape ! ” cried the young ures. The chief characteristic of the man
clergyman, seizing Horatio by the collar. seemed intensity. It manifested itself
“ I have you, truant ! ” And he drew a in his eager movements, in his emphasis
tract upon him , like a revolver.
a
and tones of voice, in his swiftly changing
“ I surrender ! ” said Horatio. “ If it's expression, in his wild hair, in his
you, don't shoot ; I'll come down, as the neckerchief, which seemed to bave been
treed coon said to the hunter." tied with a jerk, and in his dress through
1857.] Pendlam : A Modern Reformer . 71

out, which was evidently that of a man within . He then returned to us. Up to
who had things of vaster importance to this time, he had appeared exalted and
think of. firm ; but now there came a reaction ; his
He was whirling Horatio away in a tor- voice forsook him , he trembled violently,
rent of eloquence, poured out against the and we were obliged to give him the sup
sins of the age, and mainly against the port of our arms. As we conducted him
theatre, which he denounced as the cita- away, his condition might have been
del of dissipation and all immoralities; taken for that of many others who get
and my poor friend, who had opened the into difficulty in bar-rooms. Arrived at
gates of this flood by his indiscreet pleas- his boarding-house, he thanked us with
antry, was vainly endeavouring to escape pathetic earnestness, and urged us to go
and rejoin me, when I observed a per in .
son come out of the saloon , and gradually “On one condition ,” said Horatio ,-
draw near, until he stood within a few " that you say no more about the thea
feet of the zealous reformer. A group tres . ”
watched him from the door. Before I Pendlam smiled faintly. “ I should
suspected his object, he threw out the think I might refrain from that and kin
coils of a concealed whip, and springing dred topics, at least until my shoulders
upon Pendlam from behind, dealt him have done smarting ! But I assure you,
furious successive blows over the shoul- my zeal will only be quickened by the
ders and head . I ran to the rescue . occurrences of this night. The first
But already Horatio had seized the horsewbipping is a great event. I now
whip . know what it is to be a martyr ! ”
“ Good for evil, " cried Pendlam , as I We went in and conversed. My re
was on the point of throttling the assail- pugnance to forming a friendship with
ant. My friend, how have I injured the man who was to marry Susan had
66

you ? " vanished . I found him rather too zeal

66
Interfering with my business ! get-
ting away my custom ! insulting folks
with your cursed tracts ! ” frothed the
angry man . “ I swore to cowhide you ,
and I've done it ! ”
“ If that is the case , I have no com-
plaint to make," said Pendlam . “ You
ous,-almost fanatical; but we forgive
every thing in a man who shows gene
rosity of heart, and sincere aspirations.
Horatio took a paper from his pocket and
read for the twentieth time a certain
criticism upon Miss Kellerton's acting ;
occasionally looking up, to listen to {

can go on with your cowhiding." some remark from either Pendlam or

“ You've had enough for once ! ” growl myself,—then returning to his favorite
ed the other, rolling up the lash . article.
“ But if I deserve whipping for doing I had the honor of differing, on many
my duty, I deserve a good deal more, ” essential points, with my new clerical
cried Pendlam . “ And if you are to be acquaintance; and we were soon on ex
my castigator for each offence, you will cellent terms of courteous dispute. I
find yourself pretty well employed . It assumed the philosopher, and expressed
would be less trouble, I should think, to candidly my conviction that his intel
do a little more , while you have your lect had early projected itself into doc
hand in. Meanwhile, take this tract trines which would prove too confined
upon the sin of Anger, carry it home for its future growth. I remember dis
with you, and read it carefully at your tinctly his reply.
leisure .” “On the contrary, it is you ,” he said,
Muttering threats, the man returned " who, I perceive, will some day come
to the saloon, amid the laughs and accla- over upon the very ground I now oc
mations of his constituents. Pendlam cupy. Our modern ways of thinking
followed impulsively, and left the tract have become too free and lax. We
72 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. [ November,
cannot draw the rein and tighten the abstracted, and took a quick turn across
girth ." the room ; then gave me a surprised look ,
There was a charming sparkle in his a pleased smile, and a cordial grasp of
blue eyes as he spoke. I gave him my the hand. The next hour I was obliv
hand, and we parted. As we walked ious of all external things, in the delight
away together, Horatio asked how I ful excitement of our conversation . I
liked him . even forgot Susan. Poor Susan ! the
“ He is in earnest, and that is every trouble was, she was not intellectual; not
thing. But mark me, he is not the man at all imaginative ; but a very plain, mat
for Susan .” ter-of- fact person, with deep affections,
“ Your jealousy ! ” said Horatio . and paramount instincts. During that
“ Not a bit ! I see a discrepancy ." . memorable hour, she spoke not one word .
“ Where ? " When at length I observed her con
“ In my mind's eye, Horatio . " sciously, she was gazing at us with aa look
I concluded that silence was discre- of weariness and vacancy .
tion, and refused to answer more ques- “ Is it not so ? " cried Pendlam .
tions. Horatio looked at his watch . He appealed to her. She smiled
“ We have just time to6 see Miss Kel- sweetly, and said with simplicity that she
lerton in the last act of “ The Stranger.' scarcely understood any thing that had
She is great! You should see her, when been said .
she turns and embraces the children ; I could see that Pendlam was a little
it's a scene of overwhelming pathos ! shocked . From clear, joyous heights of
Come ! ” poetic discourse, we looked down, and
“ With Pendlam's printed sermon in saw how far off below was her beingless
your pocket ? " mind. To the vision we then enjoyed,
Horatio laughed . “ We will read it there was something thick and eartby in
during the dance ! " her expression. It was the first time
But I declined ; and he went alone Pendlam had observed it ; I had seen it
into the theatre. before. And even as before, I looked
Not long after, I received a certain back, with wonder at myself, to the ear
wedding card, and, in consequence, made lier period when I deemed her beauty
& certain call. Susan was all blushes peerless.
and smiles at sight of me ; but I was cool Both Pendlam and I were chilled.
and circumspect. The fine tension of the spiritual chords
“ We are friends, are we not ? ” I said . relaxed, and gave forth heavier music.
“ We once thought we were more than Susan failing to ascend to us, we came
that ; but we became older and wiser. down to her. She now made baste to
We agreed to disagree, very properly. atone for her long silence by talking
It did not break our hearts ; and that freely of the pretty new church, and the
shows that it is better as it is. " people she saw out Sunday ; and she
66
Perhaps," murmured Susan. seemed proud and happy when she
“ Let us be quite frank with each brought out her wedding gifts, and I
other ; that is the best way, Susan. praised them .
We are good friends ? " It was several weeks before I again
“ O , yes ! ” said Susan. saw Pendlam . I went with Horatio to
“ Thank you , dear Susan , —if I may hear him preach. The sermon surprised
still call you so, in the sense of friend- me. Many of the thoughts which I had
ship. I know your husband, and love advanced in our private conversations,
him . I congratulate you on having so and which he had opposed, were repro
noble a companion ." duced , but very slightly modified, in his
Susan sighed , and concealed a tear. discourse.
Just then Pendlam entered. He seemed " Pendlam is enlarging," whispered
1857.] Pendlam : A Modern Reformer.
: 73

Horatio. “ The very things you said to “ God bless you for those words !
him the first time you met ! ” They have done my soul good, sir ! "
I was gratified by the fact, and grati- Her gratitude and piety were quite
fied that Horatio observed it; regarding affecting. Tears gushed into Pendlam's
it as evidence of Pendlam's emancipation eyes. The deacon turned away with a
from his chains. smirk and an ominous shake of the head.
The services over, the young clergy- Horatio had found Susan. Pendlam
man made his way to us through the took my arm , and we walked out of the
crowd. church. The crowd pressed on before
“ I have so much wished to see you ! ” us ; and as we reached the vestibule, we
he exclaimed , grasping my hand. “ You overheard suppressed voices discussing
were a little astonished at my sermon .” the merits of the sermon .
66
“ And a good deal pleased ,” I added . • It was full of beautiful truth ! ” said
Pendlam's delicate and changing fea- a sweet young girl's voice.
tures colored finely. “ The most eloquent discourse I ever
“ You think I have altered my views, heard ! ” added a young man with a sing
I see by your smile. Not at all, except ing -book under his arm .
that I havegone farther. " “For my part," remarked a portly and
“ I am glad you have gone farther ," I well-dressed pillar of the church, “ I was
answered . a good deal surprised . Rather too wild
« But in the same direction, I assure and flowery. Must have a bad ten
you !" said Pendlam , quickly . “ Step by dency."
step, step by step ." “ What we want is sound doctrine, " ob
“ You were on your way back to Paul served another prosperous pillar. “ Bet 9
and the Fathers. " ter let such abstract subjects alone.”
66
“Yes ; and on my arrival among “ Dangerous doctrinel dangerous doc
them , I found myself one of the Fathers ! trine ! " chimed in the gray -haired dear
It was a necessary experience. As Paul con .

spoke by authority, so I, when I stand On reaching the open air, I observed

where Paul stood, also speak by author- that Pendlam was quite tremulous and
ity. We must first be obedient, before flushed.
we can be free. You see where I am , ” “ You see ,” he said with a smile, “ what
said Pendlam . it is to be a minister. ”
Here a young woman came forward, We went home to his house . Horatio
and, with tears in her eyes, thanked her had arrived before us, in company with
pastor for the glorious truths he had that Susan and her mother. The latter was
day preached looking very uncomfortable at seeing me,
66
They are not my truths; they are the I thought, for she had hated me cordially
Lord's; I am but his mouthpiece,” an- since my affair with her daughter.
swered Pendlam , well pleased. “ I declare, John Henry, ” she said, in
A gray-haired deacon now approached. her energetic way, “ I hope you never
_ “ On the hull," said he, “ I liked your will preach another such sermon as long
sarmon tolerable well, Brother Pendlam ; as I live ! I couldn't make neither head
but it warn't one o' your best; and if por tail to it. ” And she gathered up her
anybody else had preached it, I should Sunday things, which she had taken off
have thought it contained aa little danger- in the parlour, with an air of offended
ous doctrine. " piety that occasioned a general smile.
Pendlam blushed. This compliment Pendlam smiled with the rest.
did not please him quite so well. But “ Well, Horatio, you next,—what did
before he could shape a reply, quite an you think of my sermon ? "
old woman seized his hand and kissed " I liked it. "
it “ Good ! but give your reason. "
74 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. [November,
“ Because you said nothing about the “ Why, sir," I cried, “ if I remember
theatre. I was mortally afraid you would ; right, you were for restoring the more
for, d’ye see, you had a distinguished rigorous and stringent forms of religion ;
theatrical personage in your audience . " drawing the rein and tightening the
“ Indeed ! I was not aware ; who ? ” girth ."
“ Miss Kellerton herself !" “ Most certainly ! and do you not see ?
" Is it possible ? " Pendlam looked Step by step I worked back to the primi
surprised , Susan interested, Mrs. D tive and central principle, the soul of all
(with her Sunday things on her arm ) religion. You know what that is. It is
amazed . Love ! This I have preached ,” said Pend
“ She told me she was going to hear lam , his features suffused, his eyes glisten
you, to show you that she could be quite ing bright; “ and this I shall continue to
as tolerant as yourself. She expects you preach, while life lasts. Persecution can
to return the compliment, and go to her pot influence me. I know my duty, and
benefit. " I shall perform it, at all risks. You see
Poor Pendlam hardly knew what to where I am ,” added Pendlam .
say in his confusion . Susan spoke up,- I was thrilled to admiration by his
66
Why didn't you point her out to me ? enthusiasm and heroic resolution . At the
I have such a curiosity to see her .” same time I saw him in that transitional
“ It was to her I took off my bat, com- state which is so full of peril to persons
ing away from the church door." of certain temperaments, escaping into
“To her ! ” broke forth Mrs. D too sudden freedom and light from the
" to an actress ! Horatio, I'm ashamed walls of a narrow and gloomy belief;
of you. You wouldn't have caught me and I could not but smile, with mingled
walking with you, if I had known ! ” She amusement and commiseration , at his
shook her Sunday things indignantly ; singular step -by-step processes.
and there was another general smile, as It was during the following autumn that
she took these representatives of her Horatio and I one day looked in upon a
piety abruptly out of the room . reform meeting, held at the Melodeon.
“ All this is very interesting , " said The audience was thin, the speakers nu
Pendlam , recovering his equanimity. “ I merous. The platform was crowded with
wonder what sort of a sermon I shall male and female reformers, among whom
preach next Sabbath ? ” I recognized our clerical friend Pendlam .
We were invited to stay to luncheon. A celebrated female orator sat down,
Horatio consented ; but I declined , and and Pendlam stood up. The audience
took my leave, much to the gratification cheered a little ; the platform cheered a
of Susan's mother, no doubt. good deal. He at first stammered and
Some months passed before I again hesitated , not from want of thoughts, but
saw Pendlam . Our next meeting was in from their pressure and multitude. They
the street. I observed him coming to soon fused, however, and poured forth
wards me with the peculiarly abstracted streams of fire, rather largely mixed with
and intense expression which his face smoke.
assumed under excitement. “ There is no other religion but Love,"
“ What now ? " I asked. declared the speaker. “ And where Love
“ A little difficulty with my people,” is, there is Religion ; in the Mohamme
he said , with a forced smile. “ I have dan, in the Mormon , in the savage, -I
just come from a church meeting ; it was care not for names. And where Love
terribly hot there ! ” is not, there Religion is not, though her
“ No serious trouble, I hope ? " image be preserved and clothed in all
“ O, no - only, you will hardly be sur- Christian forms. Theology and sects fall
prised to hear, my preaching has been away from it ; it is alone vital; it is eter
somewhat too liberal for them . " nal, it is unitary, it is God . Here I pra
 1857. ] Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. 75

claim it to the world ; here I announce see Pendlam don't generally talk about
to you and to all where I stand .” anything else. It's the ruin of him , as I
This speech was reported along with tell Susan ; I never in this world can be
others in the morning papers. It was not reconciled to his leaving his church .”
long before Pendlam had more church Mrs. D became confidential, and
business to perplex him ; and he soon abused her daughter's husband in a style
withdrew from the pastorship of his which did not argue much for the peace
troublesome flock. A number of these of his household during that energetic
went with him ; there was a schism in lady's visits. Her indignation against
the church ; and the following spring, a him had quite swallowed up her old
new society was formed, which gave cherished resentment against myself.
Pendlam a call. She soon went so far as to insinuate a
I also gave him a call, at his house. regret that Susan had not married a
Changes had taken place since my last man of solid sense and some mental
visit. I was shocked at Susan’s altered ballast, (meaning me,) instead of a hot
appearance. She had had an infant, headed reformer.
and untold trouble along with it. The Susan reëntered . “ Mr. Pendlam is
bloom of the bride was gone, and the very busy ; but he will come down pres
finer permeating beauty of the happy ently."
mother had failed to replace it. Mrs. She sighed, and took a seat. Mrs.
D was with her. This excellent D continued her abuse of her son -in
lady received me with surprising polite- law , in her daughter's presence,—which
ness, and brought out the little Pendlam I thought in very bad taste, to say the
for my inspection. least. Susan uttered not one word in
"Is it possible, Susan, that this liv- her husband's defence, but simply sat
ing, breathing, dimpled little wonder is and sighed. I defended and praised
yours ? ” him ; for which act of friendship I earned
“ I suppose it is,” said the blushing not one look of gratitude from her, and
Susan . only contempt and sneers from her
“ Where is its father ? " I inquired, for mother.
John Henry had not yet appeared . I was glad when Pendlam appeared.
" It hasn't got any father ! ” ejaculated He was looking care -worn and toil-worn ;
Mrs. Dwith grim sarcasm . “ A his expression had grown more intense
man can't be a reform -preacher, and a than ever. His face lighted up a little
father too . His sermons, lectures, and at sight of me ; but it was some minutes
conventions are of too much importance before his mind seemed capable of extri
for him even to think of his wife and cating itself from its abstractions, and
child . " meeting me upon social grounds.
I looked to see poor Susan writhe with “ You will excuse me. I am heartily
pain under these harsh words. But she rejoiced to see you. I was hard at work .
merely heaved a sigh, and let fall a tear Just pass your hand over my forehead ;
on the babe, which she had taken from it will relieve the pressure upon my
its grandmother's arms. brain . My mission is now fully revealed
“ I will speak to Mr. Pendlam ," she to me ; everything is reform , reform . I
said, as she hastily left the room . have been led here step by step. Your
“ I am glad you have come,” said Mrs. magnetism is very sootlung. The old
D— bitterly, seating herself on the crumbling walls of creeds and conven
sofa " I am glad to see any person tionalities are to be swept away, and their
enter this house, who isn't all eaten up foundations subjected to the plough and
with the evils of society. I have heard the harrow . I am in the harness. I have
about the evils of society till I'm heart- no motive for concealment; I tell you
ily sick of them . People that come to frankly where I stand,” said Pendlam .
76 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. [ November,
Another long sigh from Susan. Mrs. been led step by step ; and I have simply
D tossed her contemptuous chin, to be true to my own revealed mission .”
and expressed scorn in divers significant “ Mission ! revealed ! step by step !
ways. planes and stand -points ! ” exclaimed
“ I should want to conceal a little, if I Mrs. D - rising in great disgust.
>

was in your place,” she remarked, cut- " For my part, I believe in common
tingly. sense ; I don't know any other plane or
“ Truth is truth ; it can harm only stand -point, and I don't believe Provi
those who are in error," said Pendlam . dence ever intended we should have any
“ It certainly hasn't done you a very There, you have my opinion ! ”
other.
great amount of good .” Another toss of And with a violent gesture, as if throw
the contemptuous chin. ing her opinion from her, and shutting
“ On the contrary, it has done me in- our little party into the room with that
calculable good,” answered the son -in- formidable object, she swept out, slammed
law , with a smile. the door after her, and rustled remorse
“ Oh ! you consider it good, then, to lessly up stairs.
be cut off from the church ,—to give up “ Persons upon her plane are very
a good situation and sure salary, —to lose much to be pitied,” observed Pendlam ,
the respect of everybody whose respect quietly.
is worth having ! " Susan began to cry , and the scene
“If I have done all this for the truth's became so painful to me, that I made
sake, it is good," — the reformer's face kin- haste to shake hands with the ill-mated
dled with enthusiasm , — " and I for one couple, say a few soothing words, and
find it good .” take leave of them . From that time, I
“ Perhaps you do, but I know who saw Pendlam occasionally, but avoided
don't. I believe reform , like charity, the house. It was a peculiarity of his
begins at home. You talk of your duty impressible nature, to imbibe, uncon
to humanity ; I believe the first duty is to sciously to himself, the sentiments of
one's own family. I don't think much powerful persons with whom he came in
of that man's mission to the world , who contact, retain and revolve them in his
forgets his own wife and child . " intellect, until they reappeared as his
Horatio had previously told me, what own original convictions. He now went
I could hardly believe, that Mrs. D with reformers, and carried with him
was accustomed to abuse her son -in -law their atmosphere. To hear him talk,
in this way, in the presence of strangers. you would have thought universal reor
Susan did nothing but sigh. Pendlam ganization at hand. I said I avoided the
smiled , as if he was used to it. house ; but one day Horatio came to me
“ I need a little such invective occa- with a doleful face, backing a petition
sionally, to refresh my zeal,” he said , that I would go and talk with Susan .
with provoking meekness. “ It shows me “ There has been an explosion ! The
where I am . It assures me that I am old woman is gone; she has declared
fighting the good fight. I do not blame open, internecine war against Pendlam . "
my good mother; she is worldly -minded , “ I thought she had declared that some
and sees things from her stand -point. time ago, good Horatio ! ”
Neither she nor Susan can perceive any- “ Ah, but now she is trying to get his
thing but loss and disgrace, in the change wife away from him ! She has sent
from the handsome, fashionable church , plenipotentiaries, with threats and en
where I used to preach, to the naked treaties, and they have frightened Susan
hall where our new society holds its out of her poor little wits. Go and re
meetings. Very natural for people upon assure her. "
their plane. But I view things from “ Horatio , I am not certain what would
another stand -point, to which I have be best. They never belonged together.
.
1857.] Pendlam : A Modern Reformer . 77

But at your request, I will go and see If your constitution is wanting in the
what I can do . " lamb element, you will find this tender . "
I went. Susan received me with an Pendlam , I should observe, had neg
effort at a smile, which was a failure, and lected to say grace .
at my inquiry for Pendlam , burst into “ Your theory of magnetisms,” said I,
tears. " would seem a very convenient one.
“ He is not dead, I hope." Tomorrow, for example, you can re
“ No," sobbed Susan . quire the magnetism of roast beef. The
“ Nor in jail ? ” next day, the magnetisms of turtle -soup
" No." Another sob . and venison will be found agrecable.
“ Nor in any serious trouble ? " The magnetisms of some birds are said
" Trouble enough, Heaven knows ! to be excellent. And I have no doubt
Mother has gone. I don't know what to bu in time you will arrive at the dis
do. All the nice people we used to covery, that the magnetism of a certain
visit with have turned against us. " distilled beverage, called brandy, stimu
“ But our happiness does not depend lates digestion.”
upon nice people, you know , dear Pendlam laughed and blushed .
Susan . " “ I have not forgotten that for three
“ But he is getting into the strangest good years of my life I waged war
ways ! Shabby folks, with long beards, against King Alchohol. (Will you try a
come to see him . He has left off family bit of the lamb ?) But I do not push
devotions. " my principles over the verge of preju
Susan was weeping ; when , at a quick dice, as those do who condemn the
step in the hall, she took alarm , and hur- grape .”
ried from the room , just in time to hide “ Condemn the grape ? " I repeated.
her tears from her husband. “ The juice of the grape, which is the
“ Alone ? ” said Pendlam . same thing. Where this can be obtained
“ No ; Susan has just left me.” pure, it will be found highly beneficial to
“ I am glad you have come. I have persons on a certain plane. The grape
thought for several days that I required magnetism is eminently spiritualizing."
your magnetism . Every thing with me So saying, to my utter astonishment,
now is magnetism . My nature demands Pendlam uncorked a small bottle, which
a certain magnetism , as the appetite de I had supposed to contain pepper-sauce ,
mands a certain quality of food . There and commenced pouring out WINE.
are coarse magnetisms, and fine magnet- “ This will answer in lieu of grace,"
isms; yours is peculiarly agreeable to I suggested.
me. Some repel me, and some attract “ The act of prayer,” said Pendlam ,
irresistibly . I have only to follow my “ has indisputable uses. It opens the
impressions, to get what is necessary for avenues to an influx of spiritual magnet
me. That's where I am , ” said Pendlam . isms. But where the mind is kept in
He urged me to stay and dine ; and the receptive condition without the aid
as I desired an opportunity to converse of the external form of prayer, this be
further with Susan, I consented . I was comes like a scaffolding after the house
surprised to see a dish of roast meat come is built. Step by step, I have been led
upon the table ,—Pendlam having, for the to this high spiritual plane."
past year, preached vegetarianism . But Susan , as of old, sat and sighed.
he assured me that he had not changed Pendlam found my magnetism so at
his theory of dietetics. tractive, that it was impossible for me
“ There are times, however, when we to obtain a minute's conversation with
require the magnetisms of certain animal Susan alone. I departed, wearied and
foods. Today I perceived that my sys disheartened with her sad, despairing
tem demanded the magnetism of lamb. face haunting me.
78 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. [ November,
I had little further personal knowledge society should be reduced to a mechan
of Pendlam's career, until Horatio came ism , and mankind to pivots and wheels.
for me, one evening, to attend a meet- This was the dawn of the millennial era .
ing of the Disciples of Freedom . The world was to be saved by organiza
We found the Melodeon crowded by tion . First, an association ; then an as
one of those stifling audiences for which sociation of associations, which should
no ventilation seems availing. A por spread over the United States, abolish
tion had come to be interested, a por- taxes, banks, slavery, and private prop
tion to be amused. To the former, the erty, elect its president, annex South
object of the meeting was wise and America, the British and Russian posses
great; to the latter, it was ridiculous sions, and eventually Europe, Africa, and
enough to be worth an evening's sense- Asia . The model dwelling -house was
less laughter. For my own part, only likened to a manger, in which Christ
the strong desire I felt to observe the was to be born , at his second coming.
characteristics of a new sect daily in- The speaker ended by introducing the
creasing in numbers and influence could “ Practical Organizer of the Initial Assa
induce me to undergo the exhaustion of ciation of Free Disciples.”
sitting an hour in such an assembly. Horatio and myself had already re
We took seats in an obscure corner , marked upon the platform an individual
and looked around. Here were curious, whose features seemed somehow familiar
lank stalks of humanity, which seemed to us. He was rather stoutly built, full
to have been raked from unheard -of, faced, of a sanguine complexion and
outlandish stubbles. Occasionally, in temperament. His mouth indicated both
beautiful relief out of these, a clear, sensuality and decision of character.
full-berried stem of ripened grain lifted His forehead was prominent and low , his
its gracious head. It was a strange eye keen, his neck thick and muscular.
mixture ; a strange power, indeed, that We were not surprised to see him arise
had swept together such promising wheat and step forward as the Practical Organ
and such refuse chaff and straw in one izer of the Initial Association of Free
incongruous mass. Disciples.
We turned our eyes to the platform . “ Ladies and gentlemen ," said he, “ I
There sat Pendlam , with other promi- am no orator. I am a business man. I
nent Disciples. A young man was spcak- am not here to make a speech, but to tell
ing wise and beautiful words. From you about the practical part of this Asso
the well of a deep and sincere soul he ciation . "
drew needed counsel for the perishing At the first words he spoke, aa flood of
multitude ; said what he seemed impelled recollections rushed over me. For a mo
to say, and sat down. He was followed ment my breath was quite taken away.
G
by a sallow -visaged, black -bearded speak- “ I know him ! ” “ I remember him ! ”
er, who poured forth abundant venomous Horatio and I whispered almost simul
froth of denunciation . He had caught taneously.
enough of the phraseology of the more His voice was unmistakable. He was
philosophical Disciples, to impress the the fellow who had flogged Pendlam four
earnest ignorant with some show of pro- years before.
fundity. I was glad when his stream Extremes had met. The temperance
dried up. Pendlam next arose and read missionary and the infuriate liquor-dealer
a paper upon “ Magnetisms and Organi- stood upon the same platforin.
zations.” After him , came forward a Soon after, we took our leave. Wo
gentleman with a model, illustrating the walked up and down in the fresh air.
design of a dwelling-house for the Asso- How sweet, how cool it seemed , after an
ciated Disciples. He showed, entirely to hour spent amid the heated breaths of
the satisfaction of himself at least, that the packed audience !
1857.] Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. 79

I had parted from my friend, and was is right, and he is wrong He takes hold
returning home, when I met two persons of what is a truth, but detaches it from
walking arm in arm . I heard one of universal truth , and so it becomes an
them say , error.” I saw she did not comprehend .
“ I find that no great work can be ac- “ But never despair," I added. 6 The
complished , without due regard paid to future depends upon you."
magnetisms ; and in organization , we “ What can I do ? ” she pleaded .
must take care that they are harmo “ Remain firm in principle ,dear Susan.
niously distributed . I find that I now Whatever happens, stand true to him and
assume relations with every individual to yourself. Do that, and all will be
according to these subtile laws. You see well. ”
where I am ,” said Pendlam . The crying of her child , which was
For Pendlam was the speaker. His sick , called her away. I sought Pend
companion was the Practical Organizer of lam's study. I found him busily writing.
the Initial Association of Free Disciples. He was pale and thin , and there was a
I went home, filled with aa multitude of wild brightness in his eye which did not
reflections. Strong interest led me soon please me.
after to pay a visit to Pendlam's house. “ You, of all men ! ” he exclaimed.
As I went in , I met a man coming out. “ Sit down . "He closed the door, with
He had a stout frame, keen eye, sensual an air of mystery. “ I was just writing
mouth, sanguine complexion, muscular to you."
neck. “ To me ? Then I have saved you the
“ Susan , " said I, " who is that man ? ” trouble of employing a messenger.”
u One of my husband's friends,” an- “ Susan would be mortified and in
swered Susan, in some confusion. censed , if she knew what I am about to
“ And yours ? ” _ eyeing her closely. say. But truth is truth. She is perishing ;
" Oh, he comes frequently to the I see new evidence of it every day. It is
house ; I see him occasionally." for want of magnetisms. I have little to
“ ' Tis he who gave Pendlam that bottle give her, and what I have is not such as
of wine ? " she requires. Do not be astonished when
“ I believe so . " I tell you I have discovered that there do
" And that flogging, Susan ! " not exist between us the requisite affini
“Oh, they have made that up," said ties.”
Susan, innocently. I smiled ; for Pendlam was continually
“ If they are satisfied, I have nothing announcing discoveries of facts I had dis
to say. Are you happy, Susan ? " for a covered long before.
change bad come over her, which I did “ You see where I am , ” said Pendlam .
not readily understand . “ I am compelled to go to other women
“Oh, dear ! ” said Susan, “we have for the magnetisms I need ; she must re »
had so much trouble ! ” She began to ceive what she requires from other men . "
give way to her emotions. “ We have “ That is interesting ," I replied. " What
9

lost all our old friends. Mother never

is the peculiar process of imparting these
comes near us now . magnetisms ? "
Sometimes I don't
know what we shall do. Tell me what “ Sometimes by conversation ,—some
you think of it ;-is Henry so much out times by the contact of hands,-perhaps
of the way as people think ? He cer- by a kiss ; no rule is laid down ; the
tainly knows more than anybody else, process must depend upon the kind of
and I don't see how be can be wrong." magnetism to be imparted.”
She ended with a sob. 66
Very naturally. But what have I to
“ You are aware,” I answered , “ that do with all this ? »
Pendlam and I partly agree in every I was not Susan's
“ I will tell you .
thing, and wholly agree in nothing. He first choice ; but you were. That fact
80 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. [ November,
is very significant; it shows an affinity. reader to the newspapers of the period.
And what I desire is, that Horatio cheered like a madman . He
“ My dear John Henry,” I interrupt- was quite beside himself with enthusiasm ,
ed, " allow me to say that you are quite especially at the close of the third acto
mistaken . If I know any thing of affini- He was clapping furiously, and looking
ties, there is none between Susan and about upon the audience to see who else
myself ; no more, I judge, than there is was cheering, when he suddenly stopped,
between you and the gentleman I met his hands asunder, his countenance trans
going out, as I was coming in. fixed with an alarming expression. I
" Oh ,—Clodman ! You saw him ? ” thought he had clapped himself into a fit.
cried Pendlam . “ Horatio ! ” I cried , — " Horatio ! what's
66
Yes, and remember distinctly seeing the matter ? ”
him at least twice before ; once as the “ Look ! look ! "
Practical Organizer of the Initial Associ- " Where ? "
ation of Free Disciples, and once as the “ Yonder ! by the pillar ! ” I now
self -appointed castigator of unfortunate thought (his head being turned ) that
temperance missionaries.” perchance he beheld a ghost. “ Don't
“ You are pleased to be sarcastic," said you see ?-Pendlam !”
Pendlam , mildly. “ He is a very useful It was true ;-there sat the reformer ,
man to us. I welcome his visits to my out-cheering Horatio himself ! By his
house ; for I consider his magnetism side was Susan, looking brighter and
highly beneficial to Susan .” happier than I had seen her for months.
66
Then, by all the gods at once, you By her side sat
wrong me ! " I said. “ If thatman's mag- “ That rascal Clodman ! ” hissed Hora
netism is what she needs, to suppose that tio, through his teeth .
mine is, also, is an insult. I lose patience Miss Kellerton came before the cur
with you, O most free Disciple ! ” tain. A vast tumult of applause burst
“ I see,” replied Pendlam , with a smile, forth and died away. Pendlam chcered
“ you have not yet reached the plane of after all the rest had ceased. Then he
perfect freedom . I cannot argue with and Clodman conferred ,—the face of the
you; but when you have had certain latter so near Susan's, as he leaned be
necessary experiences, and arrived at my fore her, that Horatio swore he kissed
stand -point, you will see as I do." her. Both Pendlam and Susan were
He conducted me to the door, rather beaming with smiles.
coolly. I stopped a moment to speak to “ This recreation will do them good ,"
Susan . I whispered.
“ For the love of Heaven ," I said, “ re- “ That Clodman is a villain ! ” mut
member what I told you. You don't tered Horatio. “ Ask Miss Kellerton ;
know how much depends upon you ! " she knows him . But, villany aside,
Susan stared. I left her staring. what a stupendous joke it is to see Pend
About this time Miss Kellerton re- lam here ! ”
turned , and played a brilliant engage- Horatio arose , flushed and excited .
ment. I accompanied Horatio one even- “ Where are you going ? ” I demanded.
ing to witness her fourth appearance in “ I'll tell you soon . Let me pass."
a new play, which had taken the theatri- He left the theatre . I did not see him
cal portion of the city by storm . The again until the play was over. He made
play -house was packed from top to bot- his way to the orchestra box where I sat,
tom . We had our seats in the orches- in time to applaud Miss Kellerton's final
tra, where we enjoyed a view of both appearance before the curtain. Then he
actors and audience , and a cool breeze grasped my arm .
from behind the scenes . For criticisms “ Come with me ; they are going !”
of the performance, I must refer the He indicated Pendlam's party. Wo
1857.] Pendlam .: A Modern Reformer. 81

passed up the aisle, reached the hall, and plane. Good night ! You see where I
waited for them at the foot of the stairs. am ," added Pendlam .
Presently they appeared. Clodman was Thenceforward the Pendlams were
praising the performance ; Susan ex- frequent visitors at the theatres. When
pressed her delight; Pendlam said some- John Henry was too much occupied to
thing about miscellaneous magnetisms. attend, Clodman had the gallantry to
They had reached the foot of the stairs, cscort Susan . This was considered ex
when Horatio sprang upon them like a ceedingly kind in Clodman ; 'he not only
brigand, and seized John Henry's collar. treated Susan to delightful dramatic
“ Ha ! Horatio !” gasped Pendlam , performances, but at the same time im
a good deal startled. parted to her his valuable magnetism .
“ Too late to escape ! ” And Horatio One Sabbath evening Horatio came
drew a tract upon him , like a revolver. suddenly upon me in the street, and
" Here is something, sir, which I think pulled me breathlessly around a corner.
will suit your case,” levelling it at Pend- “Wait till I can speak ; the miracle
lam's throat. of miracles ! I have been to — to call on
“ Ha ! ” stammered Pendlam , reading IER ; and who do you suppose had
the title. “ The Theatre a Stronghold been dining with her ? ”
of Vice ; a Sermon, by -" I named successively several noted
“ By the Reverend John Henry Pend- actress-bunters and snobs, whose names
lam ," roared out Horatio. “ Pendlam , disgusted Horatia " Who then ? ” I
the distinguished temperance -preacher !” asked .
A lurid smile played over the grim “ Pendlam ! Pendlam ! Pendlam ! "
features of the Practical Organizer. ejaculated Horatio . “ He wanted to
“ Pendlam has outgrown his former consult AER upon the subject of creating
opinions,” he said, with a look of hate at a Divine Drama, or some such non
Horatio. sense . ”
“ Not precisely,” said Pendlam . 4“ I “ Possibly a new Divinc Comedy," I
have simply enlarged them , or rather suggested.
added to them . I preach temperance the “ She made him stay and dine on
same ; but overy man must be his own Sunday ! And will you believe it ? -he
master. The vices of the theatre appear finds her magnetic impartations, as he
just as biscous to me as ever ; but the calls them , highly agreeable and advan
theatre ivvelf may be redeemed , and tageous to his constitution ! Bless him !
made an instrument of salvation. As he isn't the first man who has found
the pasonage of bad people rendered it them agreeable, if not so advantageous.
what it has been, so the patronage of the But she gave him a dose ! ”
good is required to make it what it should »
“ Of what ? ”
be. The divine magnetism of a few “ Of bitter truth about Clodman .
spintoal persons in the audience must She knows him for a villain, and told
necessarily affect, not only the remainder him so. I was there, and glad to hear
of the audience, but also the actors. In it. But I was enraged. I could have
our new Association wrung John Henry Pendlam's neck for
“ Come ! ” growled the Practical Or- him , when he said , with his quiet, charita
ganizer, turning away, with Susan lean- ble, mild , incredulous smile, that he was
ing confidingly on bis arm ; “ shall we already aware there existed in the com
go ? ” munity a good deal of prejudice against
Excuse me. I will give you my Clodman ! ”
ideas of a spiritual drama another time. Matters were now progressing rapidly
I'll take this sermon . I shall read with to a crisis. One day during the ensuing
interest what I had to say on the subject summer, I asked Horatio the usnal
before my mind had attained its present question , “ Where is Pendlam now ? "
VOL . L 6
82 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. [ November,
referring, as John Henry himself would thinketh no evil. He has imagination ,
have said, not to locality, but condition. intellect, spirituality ; but he wants
“ That is impossible to say,” replied balance. From the first, I saw that his
Horatio, "for I have not seen him since powers needed centralizing. He had
yesterday. Then he was situated oppo no hold upon integral truth, but snatched
site a bottle of pale sherry, which that here a fragment and there a fragment
rascal Clodman had just brought to the Always distrust that man , Horatio, that
house. They were drinking, and talk- talks forever of planes, and stand -points,
ing over the Organization of Free Disci- and step-by -step processes, and deems it
ples. Several wealthy men have become necessary to inform you each day where
interested in the enterprise, and large be stands."
amounts have been subscribed. Pend- “ I do not know what could have saved
lam is writing a work on the subject." him ! ” sighed Horatio.
“ And Susan ? ” “ I know what could ; an entire and
“ Her child is sick, and claims all her absorbing love. His wife should have
attention. They are trying to cure it been one towards whom all his thoughts
with magnetisms. Clodman is day and and sympathies would have been drawn
night at the house ; his magnetism being such a love would have given him con
considered indispensable for the restora- centration, poise, unity. But, on the
tion of the child . " other hand, his heart had no anchor, and
A month later, Horatio brought me his intellect was left adrift. He has pur
word that the child was dead . sued truth, forgetting that truth is a tree,
Another month, and I learned that one and mighty, but with innumerable
Susan had been sent to some celebrated branches; and that it is unsafe to risk
Western Magnetic Springs for her health. the weight of one's salvation upon a
“ How did she go ? ” single bough. Susan had no part in his
Horatio hesitated . “ I am sorry to life ; she was left with that hungry,
say she has gone with that rascal Clod- yearning heart, until the sympathy even
man , who is travelling on business for of aa Clodman seemed food to her perish
the Association. Pendlam remains at ing nature. Pity her, Horatio, but do
home, hard at work on his book . I will not condemn . "
now add what I did not wish you to The Initial Association failed. Clod
know , " said Horatio . “For some months man did not return ; and it was found
Pendlam's family subsisted almost en- that he had appropriated to his private
tirely upon funds advanced him by that use the funds of the Association. Be
rascal Clodman. They talk of his won- hind him he had left a distressed family,
derful generosity ! But the villain has and many creditors. Where was Susan ?
a wife of his own , and a couple of I now thought it time to hunt up Pend
young children, who are left to suffer lam . After no little search, I was sent
for want of the actual necessaries of to an obscure lodging. I opened the
life. Pendlam has given up preaching, door pointed out to me, and entered an
you know, in order to devote himself extraordinary chamber. The sides were
entirely to the Association .” covered with strange diagrams, grotesque
“ Horatio, I am afraid that all is lost. drawings, lettered inscriptions. Some
I did hope better things of Susan. were sketched rudely upon the plaster
Wretched, wretched girl !” ing with colored chalk ; others were
Tears came into Horatio's eyes. designed upon paper, and pasted on the
“ How could the damnable thing ever wall. In the centre of the room sat an
happen ? ” he exclaimed , passionately. indescribable human figure, with its face
She was a true, honest girl ; and buried in its hands. It wore an anom
Pendlam is not a bad man .” alous garment, slashed with various
“ He is a man,” I said, “ who verily colors, like a harlequin's coat. Upon
1857.] Pendlam : A Modern Reformer.
: 83

one shoulder was sewed the semblance “ Oh, the swine ! Oh, the precious,
of a door cut out of blue cloth ; on wasted, golden fruit ! ”
the other, a crescent cut out of green . “Here is one in words; it reads, Be
Upon the head was set a tinsel crown , ware of falling from a balloon . It
amid tangles of disordered hair. Above requires a peculiar experience,” added
was a huge brass key, suspended by a Pendlam , with a smile, “ to enable one to
tow string from the ceiling. Table and understand that beautiful symbol.”
floor were littered with manuscripts and “ Perhaps I have not had the requisite
papers ; under the former I observed an experience ; but " -I laid my hand on
empty bottle. Pendlam's shoulder_ “ I know a man
I spoke. The figure started, and look who has fallen from several balloons ! ”
ed up. In the sallow cheeks, untrimmed “ Here is one, ” said Pendlam , turning
beard, sunken and encircled eyes, I to the table, “ which I have just drawn.
recognized Pendlam . A quick flush I was trying to get at its meaning when
spread over his haggard features, and he you came in.” He showed me a sketch
made a snatch at his tinsel crown. consisting of a number of zigzag lines,
“ Do not be disturbed, ” I entreated. joined one to another, and tending to
He smiled , but with an air of embar- wards a circle .
rassment ; and leaving the tinsel upon “ My dear John Henry,” said I, “ any
his uncombed head, pointed to the wall. person who has watched your course for
“ You see where I am ,” said Pendlam . the last four or five years will readily
“ I see , yet do not see.” see the meaning of that symbol. It is a
“ I have reached the plane of symbols. map of your voyage of discoveries.”
You are aware that there is something in “ Such tacking and shifting ? ” queried
symbols ? " Pendlam , with aa smile commiserating my
“ A great deal ! a great deal ! " I said, ignorance.
from a sorrowful heart, as I glanced “Just such tacking and shifting. If
amound me. you had possessed a good compass, it
Pendlam , who had spoken doubtingly, would have shown you."
seemed encouraged . Pendlam caught at the word com
“ Symbols are the highest expression pass. “ It is singular ;—you must have
of spiritual thought. Both words and some spiritual perception ;—it was written
pictures are used . They are the lan- through my hand nine days ago , Purchase
guage of the spirit, which only the same a compass. Here is the writing ; I placed
spirit can understand. Look here, and it upon the wall as a symbol; and I have
you will see some symbols of a very intended buying a compass as soon as I
astonishing character." could get the means."
“ Astonishing," said I, “ is a mild “ Ah, John Henry," said I, “ there is
word ! " more in your symbols than you suppose.
“ And what is equally astonishing," You want no purchasable compass."
added the eager reformer, “is the man- Pendlam rewarded my simplicity with
ner in which they are produced. The another pitying smile.
hand is moved to write or draw them “Here,” said he, " you who know so
spontancously. The symbol comes first much of symbols, explain this. Avoid
the interpretation afterwards. Here is a the shores of Old Spain . I have not
vulture soaring away with a lamb. It yet penetrated its meaning."
has a meaning."
a
“ Leave it," I replied , “ with the unex
“ A deep meaning ! " I added . “We plained Pythagorcan symbol touching
have known such a vulture ! ” abstinence from beans. Perhaps future
“ Here," he cried,-too excited to heed events will reveal it.”
any words but his own , " are swine Pendlam smiled as before. But was I
feeding upon golden fruit." not right ? Did not lamentable events in
84 Pendlam : A Modern Reformer. [November,
the not far-off future give to the symbol The laws of chemical affinity teach this
a melancholy significance ? by analogy. When the mutual imparta
“ Come, ” I said, " leave these abstruse tions which result from the conjunction
studies ; take off that symbolic coat, that of positive and negative have blended in
tinsel crown ; wash, comb your hair, and a state of equilibrium , there is conse
walk with me.” quent repulsion, and the law of harmonies
“ I should enjoy a walk,” replied Pend- ordains new combinations. You see
lam ; " but I am directed to retain these where I am ," said Pendlam .
symbols upon my person , and you would Disheartened and sorrowful, I set out
hardly wish me to appear in the street to go . At the door I turned back .
with them . ” “ Can I do anything for you, John
“ Directed ! -by what authority ? ” Henry ? "
“ By the Spirit. Some beautiful use is “ Not unless "_Pendlam hesitated a
to be fulfilled . I see where you are ,” moment- “ if you have a dollar to
added Pendlam ; -— " from your stand spare ? "
point it must look absurd enough ." I gave him a bank -bill. As he leaned
I sat down, and endeavoured to reason forward to receive it, he struck his head
with him. But I found it impossible for against the suspended key.
a person upon my plane to reach with " Another symbol,” I said. “ Break
any argument a person upon his. In not your brains upon the key of brass .”
vain I recapitulated his successive trials He scratched his head, rearranged his
and failures. tinsel, and smiling, advanced to show me
“ It is true, " he confessed, “ I have the stairs. I looked back once : there
been called to pass through some strange crowned he stood, in his symbolic coat,
experiences. But all were necessary with the green crescent and blue door on
steps ; and I have now reached a stand- the shoulders; and as a gust from the
point from which I can look back and stairway blew open the garment, I beheld
see in its indisputable place every grade a great yellow beart on his breast. That
of the progressive ascent. There has picture remained impressed upon my vis
been only apparent failure . Our attempt- ion. In the street, I recalled the room ,
ed Association was à necessary fore- the drawings, the inscriptions ,—all so
shadowing of what remains to be un- tragical and saddening ! I had not pro
folded ; a prophetic symbol. We have ceeded far, when, moved by greater com
all been taught great lessons. ” passion, I turned and retraced my steps.
“ And the vulture and the lamb ! ” I At the door of the house, I saw the ser
said, sternly ; " where are they ? " vant girl who had admitted me coming
“ I perceive,” answered Pendlam , out with a bottle, and thought it the same
charitably ,“ you do not understand .” I had seen lying empty under Pendlam's
“ It is you," I cried, “ who have failed table. I followed her into a grocery on
to understand your own symbols. To the corner. She called for gin, and paid
use plain language, then, where is Susan ? for it out of my bank -bill.
She is the lamb that was entrusted to I now changed my mind, and went to
your keeping, and that you suffered the consult Horat It was concluded that
obscene bird to carry away !” Pendlam's old habits of thought and as
“ You are pleased to employ harsh sociations ought to be entirely broken up.
terms, ” said Pendlam , meekly. “ Susan Deserted , destitute, dependent, he conde
has done well ; she has followed her scended, after long holding out against
attractions, and that is obedience to the us, to listen to what we proposed. Hear
Spirit. Perfect freedom is essential to ing of a vacancy in a newspaper office in
progression. Consequently, above a cer- a western city, we had procured for him
tain plane, monogamy, which bas unde- the situation . Not without a struggle, he
niable primitive uses, ceases to exist. consented to accept it, abandoned his
1857.] British India . 85

darling reformatory projects, and set out article proclaiming a miraculous conver
for his new sphere. sion of the distinguished reformer, and
His position was that of subordinate thereby greatly glorifying Catholicism .
writer ; and for a time he maintained it The same mail brought me a letter
with considerable ability. But he grew from the convert.
restless under restraint; and at length, “ At last, ” he wrote , “ I have found
taking advantage of the managing editor's peace in the bosom of the Holy Catholic
absence, he published articles on prohibit- Church. All my previous experiences
ed subjects, which lost the paper half its were necessary to lead me where I am .
subscribers, and him his situation. When This is the divine association I was so
next beard of, he was gaining a meagre long secking elsewhere in vain ; I find in
subsistence by writing theatrical puffs, – its forms the true symbols of a universal
employment for which he was indebted religion ; and I now perceive that the
to the kindness of a certain influential seeming errors, in which I was for a time
actress named Kellerton. permitted to stray, were wisely designed
In the mean time Susan returned from to convince me of the sublime truth, that
her unhappy wanderings; and her moth- celibacy is the single condition befitting a
er's family, seizing upon her like wolves, holy apostolic teacher ."
bid her from the world in their den. Amid the flood of reflections that
And I was pleased not long after to read rushed upon me, arose prominent the
that an individual named Clodman, a image of poor Pendlam's unexplained
noted swindler, had recently been shot symbol: “ Avoid the shores of old Spain.”
in a street-fight in St. Louis, by a hus- Had it not now received its interpreta
band whose domestic peace he had dis- tion ? The tossed voyager, failing to
turbed . make the continent of truth , but bcating
The last word of all, that ends this hither and thither amid the reefs and
strange, eventful, and, alas ! too true breakers of dangerous coasts, mistaking
history, remains to be said . many islands for the main, and drifting
For some months, we had heard noth- on unknown seas, had at last steered
ing of Pendlam . But last week I re- straight to the old Catholic shores, from
ceived a bundle of Roman Catholic which the great discoverers had sailed
publications, one of which contained an so many years before.

BRITISH INDIA .

THE year 1757 was one of the Junc , and a Russian army was in posses
gloomiest ever known to England. Atsion of East Prussia . A German army
home, the government was in a state of in British pay, and commanded by the
utter confusion, though the country was “ Butcher " hero of Culloden , was beaten
at war with France, and France was in in July, and capitulated in September.
alliance with Austria ; these two nations In America, the pusillanimity of the
having departed from their policy of two English commanders led to terrible dis
centuries and a half, in order that they asters, among which the loss of Fort
might crush Frederic of Prussia , Eng William Henry , and the massacre of its
land's ally. Frederic was defcated at garrison, were conspicuous events . In
Kolin , by the Austrians, on the 18th of India, the English were engaged in a
86 British India . [November,
doubtful contest with the viceroy of Ben- ties, but British armies, at Minden and
gal, who was supported by the French . Creveldt, renewed on the fields of the
Even the navy of England appeared continent recollections of the island skill
at that time to have lost its sense of and the island courage. Then was a
superiority ; for not only bad Admiral new spirit breathed into the British ma
Byng just been shot for not bchaving rine, by which it has ever since been
with proper spirit, but a combined ex- animated, and which has seldom stop
pedition against the coast of France ped to count odds. Then began that
ended in signal failure, and Admiral dashing course of enterprise which gave
Holburne declined to attack a French almost everything to England that was
fleet off Louisburg. No wonder that the assailable, from Goree to Cuba, and from
British people readily believed an author Cuba to the Philippines. Then was laid
who then published a work to establish the foundation of that Oriental dominion
the agreeable proposition, “that
that they of England which has been the object
were a race of cowards and scoundrels ; of so much wonder, and of not a little
that nothing could save them ; that they envy ; for on the 23d of June, 1757, was
were on the point of being enslaved by fought the battle of Plassey, the first of
their enemies, and that they richly de- those many Indian victories that illus
served their fate . ” Such a succession of trate the names of Clive, Coote , Welles
disasters might well discourage a people, ley, Gough, Napier, and numerous other
some of whom could recollect the long heroes. It seems odd, that the interest
list of victories which commenced with in Indian affairs should have been sud
Blenheim and closed with Malplaquet, denly and strangely revived in the hun
and by which the arrogance of the Grand dredth ycar after the victory that laid
Monarque had been punished . Bengal at the feet of an English adven
Yet it is from this very year of mis- turer. Had the insurgent Sepoys delay
fortune that the power of modern Eng- ed action but a few weeks, they might
land must take its date. Adversity," have inaugurated their movement on the
said El Hakim to the Knight of the Leop- very centennial anniversary of the birth
ard, “ is like the period of the former of British India.
and of the latter rain ,-cold, comfortless, There is nothing like the rule of the
unfriendly to man and to animal; yet English in India to be found in history.
from that season have their birth the It has been compared to the dominion
flower and the fruit, the date, the rose, which Rome held over so large a por
and the pomegranate.” In the summer tion of the world ; but the comparison
of 1757 was formed that ministry which has not the merit of aptness. The pop
succeeded in carrying England's power ulation of the Roman Empire, in the age
and glory to heights which they did not of the Antonines, has been estimated
reach even under the Protectorship of at 120,000,000, including that of Italy.
Cromwell or the rule of Godolphin. The population of India is not less than
Then were commenced those measures 150,000,000 , without counting any por
which ended in the expulsion of the tion of the conquering race. Rome was
French from North America, and gave favorably situated for the maintenance of
to England a territory here which may her supremacy, as she had been for the
perpetuate her institutions for ages after work of conquest Her dominion lay
they shall have ceased to be known in around the Mediterranean, which Italy
the mother- land . Then was America pierced, looking to the East and the West,
conquered in Germany, and not only and forming, as it were, a great place of
was Frederic so assisted as to be able arms, whence to subdue or to overawe
to contend successfully against the three the nations. Cicero called the Hellenic
great houses of Bourbon, Habsburg, andstates and colonies a fringe on the skirts
Romanoff, and a horde of lesser dynas of Barbarism , and the description applies
1857.] British India 87

also to the Roman dominion ; for though dostan and the Deccan there are ten dif
Gaul and Spain were conquered from sea ferent civilized nations, resembling each
to sea, and the legions were encamped other no more than Danes resemble Ital
on the Euphrates, and the valley of the ians, or Spaniards Poles. They differ
Nile was as submissive to the Cæsars in moral, physical, and intellectual con
as it had been to the Lagidæ, yet the ditions, —in modes of thought and in
Mediterranean was the basis of Roman modes of life. This is one of the chief
power, and a short journey in almost any causes of England's supremacy, just as a
direction from it would have taken the similar state of things not only promoted
traveller completely from under the pro the conquests of Rome, but facilitated
tection of the eagles. Not so is it with her rule after they had been made. The
British India. From no European coun- Emperors ruled over Syrians, Greeks,
try is India so remote as from England. Egyptians, and other Eastern peoples,
The two regions are separated by the with ease, because they had little in com
ocean , by seas, by deserts, and by some mon, and could not combine against their
of the most powerful nations. Their sole conquerors. They did the same in the
means of union are found in the lead- West, because the inhabitants of that
ing cause of their separation. England quarter, if left to themselves, would have
owes her Indian empire to her empire of passed their time in endless quarrels.
the sea. India will be hers just so long, The old world abounded in great cities,
and no longer, as she shall be able to all of which owned the supremacy of
maintain her naval supremacy. Those Rome, from Gades to Thapsacus; and
who predict her downfall in the East, in modern India the most venerable
either as a consequence of the natives places are compelled to bow before the
throwing off her rule, or through a Rus- upstart Calcutta.
sian invasion , forget that she entered The peculiar condition of India a hun
India from the sea, and that until she dred years since enabled the English
shall have been subdued on that element to lay the foundations of their power in
it would be idle to think of dispossessing that country so broadly and so deep that
her of her Oriental supremacy. Were nothing short of a moral convulsion can
the long -cherished dream of Russia to be uproot them , though the edifice erected
realized ,-a dream that is said to have upon them may be rudely shaken by in
troubled the sleep of Peter, and which ternal revolts, or by the consequences of
certainly haunted the mind of Catharine, external wars. Fifty years sooner or
--and Russian proconsuls ruling on the forty years later, the English could have
Ganges, India could no more be to Rus- made no impression on India as con
sia what she has been to England, than querors. Seventy years before the con
the Crimea, had he kept it, could have quest of Bengal the English traders had
been to Louis Napoleon what it is to the been plundered by a viceroy who an
Czar. The condition of Indian dominion ticipated the tyranny of Surajah Doulah.
is ocean dominion . They determined not to submit to such
In one respect the Indian empire of exactions. They resolved upon war.
England resembles the Roman empire. But the great Aurungzebe was then on
The latter comprised many and widely the throne of Delhi ; and though the Mo
different countries and races, and so is it ghul empire had declined somewhat from
with the former. We are so accustomed the standard set up by Akbar and main
to speak of India as if it constituted one tained by Shah Jehan, the fighting mer
country, and were inhabited by a bomo chants were soon taught that they were
geneous people, that it is difficult to un- but as children in the hands of its chief.
derstand that not even in Europe are They were driven out of Bengal, and
Dations to be found more unlike to one Aurungzebe thought of expelling them
another than in British India. In Hin- from his whole empire. The punish
 88 British India. [ November,
ment of death was visited upon some of animate his followers by affection por
the East India Company's officers and command them by force of character,
servants by the Moghul. This severe he was utterly routed. Not six hun
lesson made a deep impression on the dred men fell in the battle of Plassey,
English. They resumed their humble on both sides, and most of these were
position as traders on sufferance. They on the side of the vanquished. Sel
never thought of conquest again. It was dom has it happened that so mighty a
not until every man who had been con- change has been effected with so little
cerned in that business had long been slaughter. One is reminded of the bat
in his grave, that the English dared so tles fought by the few Romans under
much as to think of making another Lucullus against the entire array of the
war. Though the Moghuls rapidly be- Armenian monarchy.
came powerless after the death of Au- Had circumstances not led to the dis
rungzebe, the blows struck by anticipa- play of British power at the time when
tion in their behalf protected them for great prizes were sure to follow even
forty years against the ambition of the from minor exertions, England never
intrusive Occidentals, and even for some could have become mistress of India.
time after Nadir Shah's Persian inva- Had the English remained traders forty
sion had demonstrated that their dynasty years longer, -or even for half that time,
was as weak as that of Lodi had been perhaps, —they would have encountered
found when Baber came into the land. very different foes from those which they
Whether the English have been right or overthrew so easily when forced to fight
wrong in making themselves masters of for property and life. India was break
India, it is certain that they were forced ing up in 1757, and the process of re
upon the work against their own wishes formation was about to begin. Had not
and inclinations, and in self-defence. the English been brought into the vast
The very expedition which Clive made arena, either a number of powerful
use of to effect the subjugation of Ben- monarchies would have been formed, or
gal had been undertaken on defensive the whole country would have passed
grounds ; and so fearful was even that under some new dynasty, which would
great man of the consequences of a union have revived the power of the state
of the forces of the Moghul with those at with that rapidity which is so often
the command of the French in the East, exhibited in the East, when new and
that he was at first desirous of making able men assume the reins of govern
peace with Surajah Doulah himself. ment. Hyder Ali might have made
When the arrival of reinforcements had himself the master of all India, had it
induced him to take a bolder course, and been his lot to contend only with native
the destruction of that fierce viceroy had rulers and native races. Had this been
been resolved upon, it was not until after the course of events, and had circum
much doubt and hesitation, and against stances brought him into collision with
his original judgment, that that course of the East India Company when he had
action was entered upon which ended in made himself the Moghul's successor,
the victory of Plassey. He knew the can it be believed that he would have
risk that was run in fighting a pitched experienced any more difficulty in deal
battle against a force nearly twenty times ing with them than was found by Au
larger than his own ; and had the vice- rungzebe ? We know that the English
roy been either a respectable ruler or found in Hyder a very able foe, with but
a good soldier, the English, humanly limited means at his disposal, and when
speaking, must have then failed as sig- they were masters of half the country,
nally as their predecessors of 1687 ; but and had been almost uniformly victori
as he was as destitute of humanity as ous . Can it be supposed that they could

of courage and skill, and could neither have effected anything against all India,
1857.] British India . 89

ruled by so consummate a statesman as improved, had fortune favored the Gal

Hyder Ali ? There seems to have been lic race, instead of the Saxon, in their
something providential in the events that struggle for supremacy in Hindostan.
caused them to pass from traders to con- The prejudice that exists in many
querors , at the only time when such minds against England, concerning her
a transition could be made either with Indian empire, is in no small degree
safety or success . That their career of owing to something of which she is justly
conquest has been occasionally marked proud ; to the talent that characterized
by injustice and crime proves nothing the prosecution his friends called it the
against the position that they may have persecution - of Warren Hastings. No
been appointed by a higher Power to man, not even Strafford, when borne
work out a revolution in the East. down by the whole weight of the coun
“The dark mystery of the moral world ,” try party in the first session of the Long
in this as in a thousand other instances, Parliament, ever encountered so able a
remains impenetrable. Heaven selects host as that which set itself to effect the
its own agents, and all that it becomes us ruin of the great British proconsul. He
to say concerning such relations is, that was acquitted by his judges, but he
they do not appear in all cases to be stands blackened forever on the most
made from among men specially entitled magnificent pages of his country's elo
to the honors of canonization . quence. Burke's speeches are yet read
The English have frequently been de- everywhere ; and to Burke, Hastings
nounced , not only for their errors in was the principle of Evil incarnate. The
governing India, but for their conquest two great divisions of civilized mankind
of that country . The French bave hold Burke in lasting remembrance,-the
been especially fervent in these denun- liberals for his labors in the early part
ciations. It is a fact, however, that the of his life, and the conservatives for his
French saw nothing wrong in subduing writings against the French Revolution ;
India until all their own plans to that and it is impossible to admire him with
end had utterly failed. The device out condemning Hastings. It is equally
originated with them , but the English impossible to condemn Hastings without
applied it. Dupleix planned for France condemning the nation for which he per
what Clive executed for England. The formed deeds so vicious and cruel, and
French adhered to their plans for years, which formally acquitted him of each
and it was not until a very recent periodand every charge preferred by Burke
that the last remnants of their influenceand his immortal associates, in the name
disappeared from India. They saw not of the Commons of England. Even
the evil involved in the overthrowing of those charges were the result, not of con
virtuous nabobs and venerable viceroys, scientious conviction on the part of the
until time and a whole train of events Commons, but of Mr. Pitt's determina
had proved that England alone was tion to crush one who promised to
competent to the full performance of become a formidable political rival.
the work . The English in India have The arguments and eloquence of such
not, on all occasions, been saints ; but we men as Burke, Fox, Sheridan , and
are unable to see what moral right the Grey, constitute a splendid armory, from
French have to reproach them with the which the enemies of England can for
enumeration of their errors. In the ever draw admirable weapons with
East, France was 66" overcrowed ” by Eng- which to assail her Indian policy ; and
land ; and that is the sole and the very they have not been backward in making
simple cause of the vast amount of“ sym- use of this mighty' advantage. No one,
pathy ” which the French have bestowed who has ever sought to defend England's
upon suffering Indian princes, whose course in the East, but has had expe
condition in no sense would have been rience of the difficulties which those
90 British India . [November,
great men have placed in the way of a not to have many and bitter foes shall
successful vindication of their country's discuss the history of her Indian empire.
cause . Either they were honest, or they Every nation condemns conquest, and
were not. If honest, what shall be said every nation with power to enter upon a
of the nation which would not listen to career of conquest rushes eagerly upon
them ? If dishonest, what are we to it. The harshest condemnation that has
think of men, the first statesmen of their visited England because of her Indian
age, who, for mere party ends, had per- successes has proceeded from nations
secuted to his ruin one wbo was in no who have never been backward in seiz
respect their inferior, and who had ing the lands of other nations. She has
saved India for England ? Our own been stigmatized as a usurper, and as
opinion is that Burke and his associates having destroyed the independence of
were honest, and that the only dishonest Indian states. The facts do not warrant
men in the prosecuting party were Wil- these charges. She has rarely had a
liam Pitt and Henry Dundas,-the first contest with any power which was not as
being chief minister, and the other much an intruder in India as herself.
second only to the premier himself in The Moghul dynasty was as foreign to
the government. Pitt talked much of India as the East India Company, or the
his conscience, after baving absolved house of Hanover ; and the viceroys sent
Hastings on the very worst of the to rule over its vast and populous prov
charges that had been preferred against inces had the same bases of power as
him , and then condemned him on lighter were possessed by Clive, and Hastings,
charges. When Roger Wildrake heard and Wellesley, and Bentinck, and Ellen
the landlord at Windsor talk much of borough, and Dalhousie. The Moghuls
his conscience, he was led to observe obtained Indian dominion by conquests
that his measures were less and his that were rendered easy by Indian
charges larger than they had been in troubles ; and this is precisely the history
thusc earlier tiines when sin was allowed of England's Oriental dominion . What
to take its natural course . It was so difference there is, is favorable to Eng
with Pitt, who was guilty of gross injus- land. The Moghuls were deliberate in
tice, according to his own arguments, vaders of India ; the founder of that
and then threw his conscience into the dynasty being an adventurer who sought
scale against the accused party, when he an empire sword in hand, and won it by
saw that that party's acquittal would violence which no man had provoked .
probably lead to his being converted Baber was to India what the Norman
into a successful political rival. Hast- William was to England. He long con
ings deserved severe censure , and no templated the conquest of the country ,
light punishment, for some of his deeds; showing a wolf-like perseverance in hunt
but not even Burke would have con- ing down his prey. For two-and -twenty
demned him to the slow torture to which years he had his object in view, and in
he was sentenced by one who believed vaded India five times before he obtained
him to be innocent, and the object of the throne of Delhi. The English were
party persecution. But the nice distinc- forced to assume the part of conquerors,
tions which Englishmen and Americans and would gladly have remained traders.
can make in the cause and course of this They did not commence their military
famous state trial, because they live in career until the Moghul had become a
the very atmosphere of party politics, mere shadow , and when that potentate
are utterly unknown to the men of con- was altogether unable to protect them
tinental Europe ; and until the end of against the tyrannical practices of his
time, England will be condemned out of lieutenants. They had to choose be
the mouths of her most brilliant sons, tween war and extermination, and they
whenever her foes and she is too great belonged to a race which never hesitates
1857.] British India . 91

when forced to make such a choice. poys have been guilty ; but they can
Their wars were waged with the Mo- astonish no one who is familiar with the
ghul's viceroys, who were aiming at the history of the races to which these muti
foundation of dynastic rule, each in his neers belong. An indifference to life,
own government, or with other princes, and a love of cruelty for cruelty's sake,
who were equally usurpers with those are common characteristics of most of the
viceroys, the Mahratta chiefs, for ex- Orientals, and are chiefly conspicuous in
ample, and Hyder Ali. One war led to the ruling classes. The reader of Indian
another, in all of which the English were history sickens over details compared
victorious, until their power extended with which all that is told of the horrors
itself over all India . In one hundred of the Black Hole of Calcutta is tame
and six years — dating from the capture and common -place. The English bave
of Madras by the French in 1746, which prevented repetitions of those outrages on
event must be taken as the commence- bumanity, wherever it has been in their
ment of their military career in India, power to coerce the princes. They have
and closing with the annexation o1 Pegu, pared the claws and drawn the teeth of
December 28, 1852, -- they had complete these human tigers. They have acted
ed their work . That, in the course of humanely ; yet it may be doubted if they
operations so mighty, and relating to the would not have consulted their own im
condition of so many millions of peo mediate interests more closely, if they
ple, they were sometimes guilty of acts had acted the part of tyrants rather than
of singular injustice, is true, and might of protectors. By ruling through the
be inferred, if there were no facts upon princes, and allowing them to act as
which to base the charge. It is impossi- " middle-men ,” they would have been
ble that it should have been otherwise, less troubled with mutinics, and could
considering the nature of man , and the bave amassed greater sums of money.
character of many of the instruments by It is to their credit that they have pur
which great enterprises are accomplished. sued the nobler course ; nor ought they
But we think it may safely be said, that to repent of it even in the midst of disas
never was there a career of conquest of ters brought upon them , we are firmly
such extent accompanied with so little convinced, as much by the mildness of
of wrong and suffering to the body of their rule as by any other cause that can
the people. As against the wrong that be mentioned .
was perpetrated, and the suffering that It is yet too early to attempt to ac
was inseparablc from wars 80 numerous count for the rebellion of the Bengal
and long-continued, are to be set the army. That rebellion took the world by
reign of order and law, under which surprise, and nowhere more so, it would
the mass of the inhabitants have been seem , than in England. A remarkable
able to cultivate their fields in quiet, and proof of this is to be found in the tone
with the assurance that they should reap and language of the debate that took
where they had sowed, undisturbed by place in the British House of Commons
the incursions of robber-bands. The ces- on the 27th of July, in which Mr. Dis
sation of the Mahratta invasions alone is raeli, Lord Palmerston, Lord John Rus
an ample compensation for whatever of sell, Mr. Whiteside, Mr. T. Baring, Sir
evil may have marked the course of T. E. Perry, Mr. Mangles, Mr. Vernon
British conquest. The stop that has been Smith, and others, participated. That
put to the cruelties of the native rulers debate was most lively and interesting ;
ought not to be forgotten in estimating and the reading of the ample report in
the amount of evil and of good which the “ Times ” revives the recollection of
that conquest has brought upon India . the great field -days of the English senate.
The world has been shocked by the Mr. Disraeli's speech is a masterpiece,
cruelties of which the rebellious Se- and would have done bonor to times
92 British India. [ November,
when eloquence was far more common Hyder. Some few aged Mussulmans
than it is now. Yet the conclusion to there may be yet living who heard from
which the careful reader of the report their sires or grandsires, who saw it with
must come is, that neither Mr. Disraeli, their mortal eyes, of the glories of the
nor the Premier, nor the President of magnificent Aurungzebe, ere the Persian,
the Board of Control, nor the Chairman or the Affyban , or the Mahratta had car
of the Directors of the East India Com- ried fire and sword into Shahjehana
pany, nor any other of the speakers, had bad . Two not over-long lives would
a definite idea of the cause of the sud- measure the whole interval of time be
den mutiny of the Sepoys. It is impos- tween the punishment of the English by
sible not to admire Mr. Disraeli's talents, Aurungzebe and the mutiny at Meerut
as displayed in this speech ; and equally Time enough has not yet elapsed to
impossible is it to find in that speech any- cause the Mahometans to forget what
thing that an intelligent observer of In- they have been, or to cease to hope that
dian affairs can regard as settling the they may yet surpass their fathers. They
question, Why did the Sepoys of the are not actuated by anything of a senti
Bengal army mutiny in 1857 ? Every- mental character, but desire to win back,
thing that he brought forward as a cause and to enjoy at the expense of the In
of the mutiny was distinctly proved not dian races, the solid advantages of which
to be worthy of the name of a cause. they have been deprived through the
Yet the men who could show that he ascendency of a Christian people in the
66
had failed to clear up the mystery could East. Mahometans in India sigh for
themselves throw no light upon it. The the restoration of the old Mahometan
government was especially ignorant of régime,” says Colonel Sleeman, “ not
all that it should have known ; and there from any particular attachment to the
is something almost ludicrous in the tone descendants of Tymour, but with pre
of the speech made by the President of cisely the same feelings that Whigs and
the Board of Control. Tories sigh for the return to power of
It is not for us to speak authoritative- their respective parties in England ; it
ly as to the cause of the Sepoy mutiny, would give them all the offices in a coun
but we venture to express our concur- try where office is everything. Among
rence with those who have regarded it them, as among ourselves, every man is
as, in considerable measure, of Mahome disposed to rate bis own abilities highly,
tan origin. The Mahometan rule was and to have a good deal of confidence in
displaced by the British rule. The Ma- his own good luck ; and all think, that if
hometans were for centuries the aristoc- the fieldwere once opened to them by
racy of India, standing to the genuine such a change, they should very soon be
Indians in pretty much the same rela- able to find good positions for themselves
tion that the Normans held to the Sax- and their children in it. Perhaps there
ons in England ; only it is but justice to are few communities in the world, among
them to say, that they rarely bore them- whom education is more generally dif
selves so offensively towards the Indians fused than among the Mahometans in
as the Normans were accustomed to bear India. He who holds an office worth
themselves towards the English. They twenty rupees a month commonly gives
have never lost the recollection of their his sons an education cqual to that of a
former status, or ceased to sigh for its prime-minister." * This very capability
restoration . Nor is the time so very re
* Rambles and Recollections of an Indian
mote when they were yet great in the Official , Vol. II. pp. 282, 283. — Colonel Slee
land. Old men among them can recol man's work is one of the best ever published
lect when Tippoo Saib was treated as an on India ,–learned, liberal, and philosophical
equal by the English, and have not for It has been highly praised by so competent a
gotten how powerful was his father, judge as dr. Grote .
 1857.] British India. 93

for rule must render them not only all consequence, stored so abundantly with
the more desirous of obtaining it, but ex- all the munitions of war, should have
ceedingly dangerous as seekers after it. been left in an utterly defenceless condi
They are not an ignorant rabble, but tion, is a fact that creates inexpressible
men who have an intelligent idea of what astonishment, notwithstanding all that
they want, and rational modes of effect- happened during the Russian war. Mr.
ing its realization. Colonel Sleeman Whiteside, in the debate of the 27th of
adds, “ It is not only the desire for office July, stated that the late General Sir
that makes the educated Mahometans C. J. Napier “ said of Delhi, that to
cherish the recollection of the old régime guard against surprise, considering its
in Hindostan ; they say, We pray every
6
position, its treasures, and its magazines,
night for the Emperor and his family, it should always be defended by twelve
because our forefathers ate of the salt of thousand picked men .” From all that
his forefathers,' — that is, our ancestors appears, there were not twelve hundred
were in the service of his ancestors, and men, or anything like that number, of
consequently were of the aristocracy of any kind, in Delhi, last May, to protect
the country. Whether they really were either the inhabitants or the stores there
80 matters not; they persuade themselves deposited. Such another instance of
or their children that they were." In neglect it would be impossible to find in
this way the idea of superiority has been history, after due warning given. Long
kept up among the Mahometans of India ; ago, Albany Fonblanque said, “ The sign
and they have continued to hope for the of the fool with his 6 finger in his mouth,
restoration of their old political suprem- and the sentiment, Who'd have thought
acy, as pious Jews dream of the re- it ? ' is the precise emblem of English
building of Zion. That they were at jurisprudence.” The same sign would
the bottom of the Meerut mutiny may be seem to be applicable to some other
taken for granted. That they took for branches of the English public service,
their leader the heir of the Moghul as well as to that of the law . Perhaps it
shows the Mahometan nature of the out- was because of the warning that nothing
break . At the same time, we believe was done,—that being the usual course
that if it had not been for the imbecility with governments; while it was thought
of Hewitt, who commanded at Meerut, a duty to treat with a sort of spiteful
the mutiny never would have occurred, neglect every warning that came from
or the mutineers would have been Sir C. J. Napier, because he had a rough,
promptly put down. Even after they fiery way of expressing his opinion of the
had escaped from Meerut, Delhi never folly of those who are perpetually giving
could have fallen into their hands, if occasion for warnings which they never
that city - so important, morally and heed ,-as if in all ages roughness and
geographically, as well as in a mili- fire had not been especial characteristi:s
tary point of view had not been with of the propuetic office.
out a garrison. That a station of such
94 Akin by Marriage. [ November,

AKIN BY MARRIAGE.

CHAPTER I.
which, in course of time, the village
The railway traveller, journeying be- itself came to be known and called.
»

tween Springfield and Hartford along Instead of going “ to town," the farmers
the banks of the fair Connecticut, secs of the remote school districts talk of
from the car window, far away to the going “ to the Green,” to meeting and to
eastward, across the broad level of in- market; and in all that region the guide
tervening plains, a chain of purple hills, boards point the way “ To BELFIELD
whose undulating crest-line meets the GREEN E." This spot was the site of
bending sky and forms the distant hori- the old blockhouse and stockaded fort,
zon. Just beyond the loftiest hummock within whose rude but safe defences
of this range a fertile valley lies con- the early colonists of Belfield, with their
cealed ; and near its centre, upon the wives, children, and cattle, used to hud
smooth summit of a gently swelling dle at night, through all the time of
ridge, which, extending north and south King Philip's War. Here, with much
for miles, divides the valley lengthwise, labor, the settlers dug a deep well, fed
stands Belfield, the shire town of the by never-failing springs, to provide a
rural county of Hillsdale. Its four- sure supply of water, in case of siege,
score white dwellings, scattered uneven- for all the garrison. And now, as if it
ly along the shady margins of a straight were a monument raised to commemo
and ample street, are mostly large, sub- rate those dismal times, there stands, at
stantial granges, each with its little a point where all the crossing footpaths
suburb of dependencies making a ham- meet, a huge town -pump, near ten feet
let by itself. But where the broad high, carved and painted, with a great
avenue, at midway, spreads still wider, ball upon its top, and an iron ladle
forming a spacious square, are thickly chained to its nose. In the torrid sum
clustered the public buildings of the mer -days, from early morning till late at
town and county,—together with the night, the old pump-handle has but little
meeting-houses, the taverns, the bank , rest ; for, though in a season of drought
the shops, and a few handsome dwell- the neighboring wells are apt to run
ings, whose large dimensions and ornate low, the ancient pump, like a steadfast
>

style show them to be the abodes of friend , never fails at such a time of
people of wealth and consideration. need .
The greensward in the middle of this Near at hand, in the centre of a foot
square contains two or three elms of im- worn circlc,.a stout wooden post stands
memorial age, besides many thrifty trees by itself, which, in spite of its somely
of a later planting. The wooden bar- aspect, may well be termed a Pillar of
rier by which it is enclosed was once the State . It is one of the institutions
adorned with a coat of white paint, now of the Commonwealth, established by an
nearly worn off. The topmost rails and act of the General Assembly. Here,
post-heads of this fence have been so with torn corners fluttering in the wind,
notched and gnawed by the jackknives hang weather-stained probate notices,
of whittling idlers and the teeth of crib- mildewed town -meeting warnings, and
bing horses, that their original size and tattered placards of sheriff's sales ; for
shape are matters concerning which the no estate can be settled, no land set off
present generation are informed only by or chattel sold on execution , no legal
tradition. meeting of the voters or freemen holden,
This square was long ago named without previous notice on the sign -pust.
“ The Green ” ; a pleasant title, by It used to be known by another name,
1857.] Alin by Marriage. 95

and marks the spot, where, whilom , petty after aa brief and glorious siege. There,
thieves, shiftless vagrants, and other small still later, the sons of these men rejoiced
offenders against the majesty of the law , at the news of Wolfe's victory, and
were wont to suffer a shameful penalty sorrowfully related the sad intelligence
for their vile misdeeds. of Braddock's shameful defeat. There
On the western side of the square, on stood their grandsons, a flushed, excited
the summit of the grassy slope, stands throng of hardy yeomen , clinching their
the Presbyterian meeting-house, flanked fists unconsciously, and breathing hard
on one side by the academy, and on the and fast, as they listened to the tidings
other by the court -bouse. There are ,
of the fight at Concord Bridge. Here,
besides, two other places of worship in during the war that followed, when
the village; but neither is built upon the troops were mustered before marching
square ; and when, at Belfield, the meet- off to camp, the roll used to be called
ing -house is mentioned , the speaker is upon this very stone. No town of its
understood to indicate by that title the size in all New England contributed a
edifice which stands between the acad- larger number to the ranks of the Con
emy and the court-house, and not the tinental army than did Belfield . One
plain, square structure, with neither hot summer, all the unwonted toils and
steeple nor bell, in which the Baptists unbefitting cares of baying and harvest
assemble for worship, nor the little white fell upon the little boys and women and
Methodist chapel in the lane, with green a few old gray -haired men, whose aged
blinds to its windows, and a little toy of limbs had long before earned the right
a turret, scarcely bigger than a martin- to rest. In all Belfield there was not a
box, upon its shingled roof. male able to bear arms who was not
The quaint style and old - fashioned gone to camp. Some war -worn veter
aspect of Belfield meeting -house attest ans lived to return ; and many a Sun
its venerable age. For more than a day noon , in later years, sitting here,
hundred years its slender spire has upon the broad doorstone of the meet
glowed in the ruddy beams of early ing -house, they used to tell over the
dawn, and cast at sunset its lengthening stories of their battles and campaigns,
shadow across the village green. A until the sound from the belfry overhead ,
century ago, the mellow tones of its and the sight of the minister approach
Sabbath bell, echoing through the val ing from the parsonage, with stately
ley, summoned the pious congregation pace and solemn aspect,would check the
to their austere devotions. Before the flowing current of their talk , and recall
worn threshold of the great double their thoughts to subjects more in keep
leaved door, in the broadside of the ing with the holy Sabbath -day. But
building, lies a platform , which was once some of the friends and comrades of
a solid shelf of red sandstone, but now these brave men never came home;
is cracked in twain, and hollowed by the their bones lie mouldering beneath the
footsteps of six generations. In the very turf at White Plains, at Saratoga, at
spot where it now lies it has lain ever Brandywine, and at Princeton . Some
since the first framed mceting-house was perished with cold and hunger at Val
built in Belfeld, in the reign of good ley Forge ; some died of fever in the
King William III. Therc, gathered in horrible Old Sugar -house ; some rotted
a little knot, on Sundays and public. alive in the Jersey prison -hulk ; some lie
days, the forefathers of the settlement buried under the gloomy walls of Dart
used to talk over the current news; how moor ; and some there were whose fate
the first Port Royal expedition had was never known.
failed ; or how New England militia- It was the custom , formerly, to hold all
men , without aid from home, had cap- meetings for the transaction of public
tured the great fortress of Louisburg, business in the sanctuary. None, not
96 Akin by Marriage. [ November,
even the most piously fastidious parson aisles carpeted, and the square, old -fash
or deacon, ever thought of being shocked ioned pews changed for cushioned slips
at what in these degenerate times would In the rear, a little way off, is a row of
seem like a gross desecration of the ugly sheds, yawning towards the street,
house of God . There were fewer Phar- where, on Sundays, the farmers who
isees in Belfeld a hundred years ago come from a distance tie their beasts,
than now. To the Puritans, and to all each in his separate stall. In hot days,
their descendants, until of late, their in the summer time, when all the doors
places of worship were not churches, and windows of the meeting-house are
but meeting-houses merely ; and by the set wide open , the hollow sound of horses'
stout-hearted men who used to dwell stamping mingles with the preacher's
in New England it would have been drowsy tones, and sometimes the congre
deemed a heresy near akin to idolatry gation is startled from reposc by the
itself, or at least savoring strongly of shrill squeal of some unlucky brute,
the damnable errors of the Romish complaining of the torture inflicted by
Church, to hold that wood and stones, the sharp teeth of its ill-natured mato
carved and fashioned by the hand of or vicious neighbor ; or, perhaps, the
man, could be hallowed by an empty Autter of fans is suspended at the obo
rite of consecration. streperous neigh by which some anxious
On these week -day occasions, there dam recalls the silly foal that has
fore, no part of the house was kept strayed from her side ; or the dissonant
sacred from the world . Even the pul- creaking of a cramped wheel makes
pit itself would have been given up to doleful interludes between the verses of
secular uses, but that, being so lofty, it the hymn. Here naughty boys, escaped
was found to be an inconvenient position from the confinement of the sanctuary,
for the moderator's chair. So this im- are wont to lounge in the wagons dur
portant functionary was accustomed, from ing prayer and sermon time, munching
time immemorial, to take his place in the green pears and apples, devouring huge
deacons' seat, below , with the warning of bunches of fennel, dill, and caraway ,
the meeting, the statute -book, and the comparing and swapping jackknives, or
ballot-boxes arranged before him on the striving, by means of cautious hems and
communion -table, which in course of whispers, and other sly signals, to attract
time became so banged and battered, by the notice of their more decent fellows
dint of lusty gavel-strokes, that there was sitting near the open gallery -windows.
scarcely a place big enough to put When the black doors of the little
one's finger upon which was not bruised dingy building not far from the south
and dented. For, in the days of the end of the horse-sheds are seen standing
fierce conflict between the Federalists open, it is a pretty sure sign that somo
and Democrats, the meetings were often body lies dead in the parish. In this
noisy and disorderly ; and once, even, gloomy place the sexton keeps his dis
at the memorable election of 1818, two mal apparatus,—the hearse, with its cur
hot-beaded partisans from sharp words tains of rusty sable, the bier, the spades
fell to blows, and others joining in the and shovels for digging graves ; and a
fray, the skirmish became at length a corner lies a coil of soiled ropes, whose
general engagement. The recurrence of rasping sound, as they slipped through
a scene like this, upon the same stage, the coffin -bandles, while the bearers low
is never to be expected. The meeting- ered the corpse into the earth, has grated
house has been set apart for religious harshly on many a shuddering mourner's
uses exclusively, since its interior was ear . The leaves of the hearse -house
thoroughly altered and remodelled, the door are fastened together by a basp and
tall pulpit replaced by one of modern pin, so that any one may enter at will.
style, the sounding-board removed, the But there is no need of bolts and bars.
1857. ] Alin by Marriage. 97

The boys, at play, in the evening, at of red sandstone,, of uncouth shape and
" I spy ” or “ bide and seek ,” never go rude appearance, leans aslant, partly
there for concealment, although their buried in the mellow soil. The moss
smothered whoops may be beard issuing and lichens, with which its roughly cut
from every other dark corner in the back and edges are overgrown, have
neighborhood. been removed from its face, and the
The narrow space between the hearse- quaint inscription is distinctly legible,
house and the sheds forms a short lane whereby the curious idler is informed
or passage -way, through which all the that “ Here lies, in ye Hope of a Joy
funeral processions pass from the street full Resurrecion , yº Body of Maji lobn
into the burying-ground, lying behind the Bugbee, an Assistant of ye Colouy & A
sheds, on the western slope of the ridge Iustice of ye Peace. Born at Auster
upon which the village stands. This field , in y® County of Lincoln , England.
ancient cemetery was laid out by the Dyed Feb. ye 9 AD . 1699 Æ. 72."
early settlers, when they made the first Close by the side of this venerable grave
allotments of land. It is a square area is another, which the stone at its head
of two acres in extent, inclosed by a announces to be the resting-place of
mossy picket paling, so rickety that the “ Mistress Mindwell Bugbee - Consort of
neighbors' sheep sometimes leap through Maji Iohn Bugbee and youngest Daut :
the gaps from the adjacent pastures, and of Sir Roger Braxley, of Braxley Hall,
feed among the graves upon the long Lincolnshire, England." Then follow ,
grass and nettles. in order of time, the headstones which
The lower portion of the graveyard mark the graves of successive genera
is set apart as a sort of potter's-field , tions descended from this worthy couple.
where negroes, Indians, and stranger. Some of these are so defaced and weath
paupers are buried. This region is bor- er-worn, that in aspect they seem even
dered by a little jungle of poke-berry more venerable than the monuments of
and elder-bushes, sumachs and brambles, the founders of the race. Nearly all of
80 dense and thrifty that they overtop those erected before the beginning of the
and hide the fence ; and there is a tra present century bear quaint devices, -
dition among the school-boys, that some- some of cherubs, all wings, and blank ,
where in the copse there is aa black -snake staring faces ; some of hour-glasses, some
hole, the abode of an enormous monster, of masonic emblems, and upon one or
upon whom no one, however, has ever two are rudely carved, ugly death's heads
happened to set eyes. Here, with but and crossbones. Two thirds of the way
few exceptions, the graves are marked down the line stands the first marble
only by low mounds of turf, overrun with headstone. It is taller than its neighbors,
matted wild -blackberry vines, where the and, though spotted with weather stains,
lightest footstep, crushing through the it bears a deeply graven inscription,
crumbling sod, destroys the labors of which seems as legible as the day it was
whole colonies of ants. But farther upcut, full forty years ago. In the grave
the hillside, headstones and monuments at the foot of this stone lies buried an
stand so close together, that, at a dis- other Major Bugbee, the great-great
tance, there seems to be scarcely room grandson of the first Major. The com
for another grave. mission of this gentleman , signed by
Near the summit lie the early set- John Hancock, President of the Conti
ters of the town ; and in a conspicuous nental Congress, still hangs in a frame
place upon the brow of the acclivity against the wainscot, over the mantel,in
stands a row of tombstones several rods the parlor of the great gambrel-roofed
in length. These mark the graves of house, whose front-yard fence and gar
an ancient and honorable family of den palings form , for almost balf the
townsfolk . At one end, a thick slab way, the eastern side of the village
VOL . I. 7
98 Akin by Marriage. [ November,
square. The late master of this dwell- valley of the Connecticut. Here, all is
ing, Doctor Bugbee, who was the eldest soft and tranquil beauty. But just be
son of the Continental major, lies at the yond the rugged barrier of those western
end of the long platoon of dead, in the hills lies a grander landscape, of wide
newest grave of all the range, over extent, through which flows New Eng
which a marble obelisk has been erect- land's greatest river, and crossed from
ed, in memory of the name and many end to end by New England's busiest
virtues of the deceased, who departed thoroughfares, dusty with the tread of
this life, as the inscription attests, on the commerce, and bordered with growing
7th day of September, 1843, in the fifty- cities and thrifty, bustling towns. Here,
seventh year of his age. reclining on this rustic bench, in the
Near by this spot, with its drooping shadow of the willow branches, among
boughs shading the monument I have the tombstones of the silent dead, you
just described, grows a weeping-willow may dream away the sultry afternoon,
tree, of such great size, that its top, from and bear no sounds but drowsy noises
half way up, can be plainly discerned that dispose to rest and quiet; the whis
from almost every corner of the village pering of the wind in the treetops, the
green ; and it is, withal, of such perfect droning pipe of grasshoppers and locusts,
symmetry of form , that on a moonlight the distant cries of teamsters to their
night it resembles a fountain, as its cattle, the shouts of children loitering
leaves, futtering in the breezy air, and home from school or gathering berries
turning their silver linings to the moon- in the sunny fields, the whetting of a
beams, scem to sparkle like spray and scythe in a far-off meadow , or the music
drops of falling water. Behind this tree of the blacksmith's hammer upon his
is placed a rustic bench, where, on a ringing anvil.
pleasant day in June, one may sit and Four times a year, during the brief
look forth upon as pretty a landscape as terms of court, the usual stillness that
can be seen in all Hillsdale County, or, pervades the sober village is enlivened
for that matter, in all the State as well. by the presence of a scanty crowd.
Before you lies the declivity of the hill Then, for aa week, judges, jurors, suitors,
upon which the village stands. At its and witnesses flock together ; and some
foot begins a verdant plain of interval times, in the winter season, when farm
meadows, dotted here and there with work is not pressing, the neighbors
graceful elms and stately hickories, each throng by scores into the court-house,
standing alone in its ring of shadow , the to hear the wordy harangues of the
turf everywhere bespangled with dande- lawyers in some notable cause. Like
lions and buttercups, and changing its wise on town-meeting days, the stores
hue from shade to shade of vivid green, and tavern bar -rooms about the square
as the wind sweeps over the thick grow- are filled with a concourse of the sov
ing verdure. Through these meadows ereign people from the more rural dis
flows a sluggish brook, in broad mean- tricts ; and at the annual cattle show
dering curves, crossed at each turn by and fair all Hillsdale comes up to Bel
rustic farm -bridges, with clumps of trees field . Then , I warrant you , if it chance
fringing the deeper pools. The plain is to be a pleasant Indian -summer day,
skirted by a country road, bordered with there is indeed a crowd, and for a while
majestic trees, and with farm -houses the little capital contains a greater num
standing all along its winding course. ber of living souls than all the county
Beyond, the land rises, and the slope is besides. From early twilight till sunset
checkered, to the foot of the hills, with blazes on the western hills the square
arable fields. The view is bounded by and street are densely thronged. A Babel
the cragey sides of the great hills which of strange noises fills the dusty air : the
separate this quiet vale from the broad lowing of cowsand oxen ; the bellowing of
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 99

frightened calves ; the plaintive bleating and woollen yarn have been bartered at
of bewildered lambs; the fierce neighing Belfield Green by the country folks, in
of excited horses ; the yelping of curs ; exchange for rum , molasses, tea, coffee,
the crowing of imprisoned cocks, respond- salt, and codfish, enough to freight the
ing to each other's defiant notes ; the royal navy . Time was when folks came
sing-song clamor of itinerant auctioneers, twenty miles to Belfield post-office, and
standing on their wagons and displaying when a dusty miller and his men, at the
their tempting wares to the little knots old red mill standing on the brook at the
around them ; the din and hubbub of foot of the valley, took toll from half the
the busy, moving, talking, jostling mul- grists in Hillsdale County. But that was
titude,-shouts, laughs, cries, murmurs, long ago, when people who lived twenty
all mingled together, till confusion bar- miles away from Hartford went to the
monizes; and above all, the constant city scarcely twice in a dozen years ,
clanking of the iron handle of the old in the good old days of turnpikes, stage
town-pump, which never ceases all the coaches, and wayside taverns, before rail
livelong day. At nightfall the uproar roads were built to carry all the trade to
lessens, and as the evening wanes, the great, overgrown towns and cities. Now
unaccustomed sounds diminish, though a -days, as I have said , it is hard to find
till midnight, ever and anon, the tired a village of its size and rank in all the
and sleepy citizens are startled from their land, which is more quiet, at ordinary
dreams by whoops, hurrabs, snatches of times, than Belfield Green.
songs, and outbursts of rude laughter
ringing through the frosty air and ming CHAPTER II.
ling with the clattering of horses' feet
and the whirring rumble of swift -revolv- Every community has its quota of
ing wheels, as some party of roystering great men ; and in this respect a coun
blades, excited by deep potations, drive try village is often, in proportion to its
shouting homewards from the village numbers, as well endowed as the capital
inns. itself. So Belfield has her magnates
Excepting on these unfrequent occa- whom she delights to honor. Chief
sions, Belfield Green is as free from among them used to be numbered the
bustle as if it were a bamlet whose late Doctor John Bugbee, a worthy gen
name was never seen upon aa map. The tleman, now gathered to his fathers in
time has been, however, when it was a the ancient burying- ground behind the
busy little mart, the centre of trade for meeting-house. He was not, to be sure,
an extensive district. In yonder low- esteemed by all, especially the women ,
roofed store that stands upon the square , to be so great a man as the Reverend
near by the great gambrel-roofed house Jabez Jaynes, A. M., who, by virtue of
of which mention has already been his sacred office and academical honors,
made, the second Major Bugbee in- took formal precedence of every mere
3

creased a handsome patrimony till it layman in the parish. But with this not
grew to be a great estate; the share of able exception, Doctor Bugbee was the
which that fell to his two eldest sons, the peer of every other dignitary, whether
Doctor and his younger brother, James, civil, military, or ecclesiastical, within the
they in time, by gainful traffic in the borders of the town .
same old place, made more than equal to But when I say the Doctor was a great
the entireestate, of which a quarter only man in Belfield, I do not mean to aver,
came to them . Thousands and tens of or to be understood, that, in person, he
thousands of tons of golden butter and was of colossal bulk or stature ; neither is
cheese, hundreds of thousands of bushels it true that his intellect was of a quality
of rye, oats, flaxseed, buckwheat, and 80 far superior to the average of human
coro, millions of eggs and skeins of linen minds as to make him a giant in that re
100 Akin by Marriage. [ November,
spect. It would be great presumption Hartford or New Haven, there seemed
in so humble a penman as myself to to be a special interposition of providen
choose, even for the hero of my tale, a tial mercy , inasmuch as in all his profes
man of eminent distinction . So I make sional round, none ever sickened unto
haste to confess, that, doubtless, there death during his absence ; though it
were at least a score or two of his fellow- sometimes happened that the population
townsmen as well endowed by nature of the town would be increased by one
as the Doctor. But above many of or two. In course of time, therefore, his
these persons he was elevated by acci-fame as a statesman even rivalled his
dental circumstances and acquired ad- reputation as physician, and all parties
vantages to a position which rendered were brought to join in voting for him
him a man of greater mark and influ- with the most cordial unanimity.
ence than they. He was descended In his youth the Doctor had been
from a most reputable ancestry, and, reckoned a handsome young fellow , and ,
being a professional man, of polite ad- to the day of his death, he preserved his
dress and handsome fortune, it would good looks to a wonderful degree. А
have been strange indeed , if he had not cheerful temper like his is a famous
been highly esteemed in the community preventive of gray hairs and wrinkles.
where he dwelt. Besides, he was a man So the jovial Doctor never seemed to
of sense and taste , witty, jovial, talkative, grow old ; and at fifty, his erect form ,
and of such extremely easy good -nature, smooth, ruddy cheeks, curly brown poll,
that, if it had not been for the tact and and merry blue eyes made him look
shrewdness of his brother and partner in younger than many of his neighbors who
trade, who managed the business of the were his juniors by a dozen years.
firm , the Doctor's income would have When a very young man , not quite
diminished, instead of increasing, as it twenty years of age, and before he had
did , year after year. As it was, his finished his course of professional study,
practice as a physician scarcely paid for the Doctor had taken to wife his cousin,
his horsekeeping and the medicines he Miss Naomi Bugbee, who had lived in
dispensed, though for a while he was a his father's house ever since he could
favorite physician in all that region ; remember ; for the young lady was an
growing in the good -will of the people, orphan, with a good estate, and during
until, as a mark of their esteem , he re- her minority had been her uncle's
ceived a nomination to the General ward . The bride was not an uncomely
Assembly. At first there was such an damsel, neither was she distinguished
outcry of dismay from the old ladies of for beauty ; and between the ages of the
the parish, that the Democrats came near happy young couple there was quite a
defeating him , though the Whigs had a difference ; a circumstance by no means
sure majority for every other name on unusual, and which would not have
the ticket. But having triumphed over been mentioned here, but for the fact,
this outburst of stubborn opposition, the that, in this case, it was the bride who
Doctor speedily became the most popular was the senior of the pair. Some people
politician in the county, if frequent elec- said she was ten years older than the
tion to office was a true test of public Doctor; and, for a wonder, these gossips
favor. For it turned out, that, instead of had the evidence of the registry to back
the mortality happening, which the Dem- their statements. In fact, the youthful
ocrats, and their allies, the old women, bridegroom had been very tenderly dry
had predicted would prevail, there never nursed , in his infancy, by his bride; and
had been known aa healthier season with- a certain sound spanking which she gave
in the memory of man . And always him when he was just coming four, be
afterwards, whenever the worthy Doctor cause he insisted upon crying and keep
was chosen to represent the town at ing awake, one evening, while his mother
1857.] Alin by Marriage. 101

was gone to a wedding, instead of going sister seemed likely to be homely. In

to sleep in his trundle-bed like a good deed, Amelia was a beautiful counterpart
boy ,—this chastisement, I say , had been of Cornelia, resembling her in the same
one of the earliest and most vivid of the wise that a flattered portrait, painted by
bridegroom's recollections of his child- some shrewd and skilful limner, will
hood. But though he had not forgotten sometimes resemble the rich and ugly
this grievance, he had doubtless forgiven original, in which, while the likeness is
it with all his heart; thereby setting an faithfully portrayed, all the harsh lines
example worthy of imitation by the fair are softened, and even blemishes are
Naomi, who, indeed , was doubly bound transformed into beauty -spots, or made
to exercise forgiveness and forbearance to serve as foils.
towards her lord ; for, whatever might Besides these twins, other children,
have been the faults and failings of the from time to time, were born to the Doc
youth to whom she surrendered the tor and his spouse, all of whom died in
ripened harvest of her charms, it cer- infancy. The love of the parents for
tainly did not lie in the mouth of one to their first -born seemed to redouble at
complain of them unduly, who had en- each of these bereavements. The moth
joyed such rare and excellent opportuni- er, especially, would scarcely suffer her
ties to train up for herself a husband in darlings to be absent from her sight; and
the way he should go. when, at last, after infinite persuasion,
There was not wanting at that time she was induced to let them go to the
in Belfield a class of spiteful people, Misses Primber's great boarding school
who, doubtless, being inspired by envy at Hartford, she used to ride over to see
at beholding the felicity of the happy them as often as she could invent a
pair, affected to laugh and sneer a good pretext. It was with the greatest re
deal at what they jeeringly called Jack luctance that she consented to this sepa
Bugbee's marrying his grandmother. ration ; but in those days it was indis
But, as if it had been specially ordered pensable that a young woman of good
on purpose to confound these ill- natured family should spend at least a twelve
jokers, this union, the object of their month at the Misses Primber's famous
ridicule, was most signally prospered, establishment, where all the rough bew
and in due time the Doctor himself puting of less skilful teachers was shaped
his wife to bed with a pair of nice little and polished, so to speak, according to
girls. the most fashionable models then in
Not long after, the twins were chris- vogue. It was while the twins re
tened at the meeting-house, a great crowd mained at this notable seminary that
attending to witness the ceremony. To they executed those wonderful land
the elder girl was given the name of scapés, in Reeves's best water-colors,
Amelia . Upon the other was bestowed which used to decorate the walls of the
the equally desirable appellative of Cor- parlors in the Bugbee mansion, and
nelia. While they were babies, both which, I dare say, still hang in tarnished
were considered remarkably pretty chil- gilt frames in some of the bedcham
dren ; at least, so everybody told Mrs. bers. It was there they filled the copy
Bugbee ; but as they grew in years and books of French exercises from Levi
stature , it became more and more appar- zac's Grammar, which Miss Cornelia still
ent, that, although each resembled the carefully preserves in a bureau drawer.
other in figure, features, and expression. There they learned to play and sing
80 strongly that you could not see one “ Days of Absence, " " I'm A Merry
without being reminded of the other, Swiss Boy ," and many other delightful
done would ever be at a loss to distin- melodies, the which, even now , Miss
guish between them ; for Amelia prom- Cornelia will sometimes hum softly to
ed to be as extremely handsome as her herself. Besides acquiring these and
102 Akin by Marriage. [November,
sundry other accomplishments, Miss has ever been held in good repute
Amelia found time to carry on a secret among her neighbors as a kind -hearted ,
epistolary correspondence with a good- obliging, sentimental little woman .
looking young law -student, (of whom At last, at the end of a year, the
more extended mention will presently be young ladies came home from the semi
made ,) and also to contrive many meet- nary, having fully completed their educa
ings and walks with him , of which no tion ; an event which filled Mrs. Bug
body was cognizant but her sister and bee's beart with ineffable satisfaction.
some five or six other bosom friends and When the loving mother reflected, that,
faithful confidants. But Miss Cornelia, for a long time, if it pleased God to
though as well inclined thereto as her spare their lives, she should now enjoy
sister, having, nevertheless, been able to the pleasure of her children's presence,
find no lover to occupy her thoughts, her bosom overflowed with happiness.
and with whom to hold amatory inter- Though she looked forward to their
views to fill her leisure, was fain to being married as to something quite
devote all her spare moments to the likely to happen in the course of time,
reading of romances and novels, of yet such events are always uncertain ,
which, though rigorously interdicted , a and they appeared to her to lie so far
great number were in the house, in pos- ahead in the vague distance of the fu
session of the Misses Primber's pupils; ture, that these anticipations caused her
and when this supply was exhausted, she no serious disquiet. For the girls were
had recourse to a circulating library but eighteen years of age, and it seemed
near by ; being often put as nearly to hardly a twelvemonth since the time
her wits' end to devise expedients where when they used to wear their hair curl
by to smuggle the contraband volumes ing in their necks, and to go hand in
into her chamber, as Amelia was to ful- band to the district school in pinafores
fil, at the time and place of tryst, the and pantalets.
frequent engagements which she made The good lady's chagrin, therefore,
to meet her lover . was excessive, when, the next Saturday
Accordingly it came to pass, that morning but one after her daughters'
Amelia's heart became affected in such return , Amelia came into her bedroom ,
a way and to that degree that she was where she sat darning a stocking by the
never heart -whole again so long as she window, and after so much hesitation
lived ; and Cornelia's head was filled that her mother began to wonder, sud
with such an accumulation of romantic denly put her arms about her neck, hid
rubbish , that, to this rery day, a mighty her blushing face upon her shoulder,
heap of it remains,-mingled, to be sure, and in that position softly whispered a
with ideas of a more solid and useful confession, that a certain young gentle
quality. For when a woman lives a man, with whom she had become ac
maid during those years in which most quainted in Hartford , had told her
of her sex are busy with the cares at- he was very much attached to her in
tendant upon the matronly estate, fan- deed ; that she was not wholly indiffer
tastic notions, such as I have mentioned , ent with respect to him, and that, in
are not so apt to be excluded from the fact, she loved him . While Mrs. Bug
mind, and in this way many girls of bee remained speechless with surprise,
good natural parts are spoiled, merely Miss Amelia proceeded to say, that it
for lack of husbands. With the excep- was highly probable the young gentle
tion of this inordinate liking for the ro- man, would that very afternoon take it
mantic and mysterious, —by which she into his head to ride out from Hartford
was sometimes betrayed into follies and to Belfield ; and perhaps he would also
absurdities that provoked a little harm- request permission to visit her regularly,
„ ess scandal or ridicule , -Miss Cornelia with the ultimate purpose of asking her
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 103

hand in marriage; in which case, she his horse and portmanteau, and with
said, it was to be hoped her parents much secret trepidation and assumed
would not refuse his modest petition ; boldness had walked up the wide flag
for that the young gentleman was a stones which led from the street to the
very good and worthy young gentleman, green front door of Doctor Bugbee's
a law -student of extraordinary promise, mansion, it was opened, at the summons
of as old and respectable a family as of the brass knocker, by a little black
any other in the State, and, withal, a girl, who vainly strove to hide a grin
young gentleman in no wise given to behind a corner of her long check apron.
bad habits of any kind whatsoever, but, Before the visitor had time to utter a
on the contrary, distinguished for his word, Amelia, blushing like a rose and
exemplary morals and sober conduct. looking handsomer than ever, came trip
All this Amelia uttered very earnestly ; ping into the hall, and after a whisper,
but, strange to say, made no mention which Dinah, who tried, failed to over
of the quality which, as much as all the hear, and the purport of which, there
rest, had attracted her regards; namely, fore, I cannot relate, ushered him into
the young gentleman's good looks, for the parlor, and presented him in due
which he was somewhat noted, and of form to her mother, and also to her
which he was not a little vain . grandmother, Madam Major Bugbee, as
When the Doctor returned that day she was styled by the townsfolk , -a
from his morning ride among his pa- stately old lady in black silk , who, being
tients, his wife took him aside into their hard of hearing, and therefore incapa
bedroom and related what has just been ble of mingling in the conversation that
set forth. The Doctor listened with ensued, regarded the new comer through
grave attention till his wife concluded her gold -bowed spectacles, during the
her story ; but when, at the end of it, remainder of the afternoon, with a fur
she began to lament, he turned the tive, but earnest attention which was
thing off with a laugh, and giving her a quite embarrassing to the object of it.
bearty kiss, endeavored to soothe her Presently a sulky came dashing up the
disquiet. “ Well, well, mother," said he drive, and soon afterwards the Doctor
“ why, let him come, let him come. It's came in, who, being made acquainted
only a year or two sooner than I ex- with Mr. Talcott by the blushing Ame
pected, and may be it'll be a flash in the lia, fell into a lively conversation with
pan after all. I think I must have seen his visitor, which finally turning upon
the young fellow in at Squire Johnson's ; the subject of politics, both gentlemen
and at any rate, I'm pretty sure I know agreed cordially in lauding the wisdom
his father. Whenhe comes, we'll just displayed in Mr. Adams's administra
invite him right over here to spend the tion, and congratulating each other and
Sabbath, and by the time he goes away the country upon the defeat of Gen
on Monday we'll know the twist of eral Jackson . After tea, the hired man
cvery thread in his jacket. If he's the was sent to fetch Mr. Talcott's horse
right one to make our girl happy, we and luggage from the inn, and then , it
ought to be glad she's found him ; and if being near sundown, the Doctor put on
he a'n't, it'll be all the harder to make as solemn an expression as his merry
her listen to reason, unless we show visage was capable of assuming, took up
reason ourselves; and, surely, it would the big quarto Bible from its place, on a
be unreasonable to be set against him , stand in the corner of the room , and
before we've even seen him or heard him read a chapter from the New Testament
say a word . ” Then, standing up behind his arm -chair,
When Mr. Edward Talcott ( for that he made a hurried prayer, which was
was the young gentleman's name) came evidently one he had got by heart; for
over from the tavern, where he had left when he endeavored to interpolate an
104 Akin by Marriage. [ November
apt allusion to the young “ stranger time nor space left for the story itself.
within his gates," he made such a piece So I will hasten to say, that the upshot
of work of it, that everybody but the of Mr. Edward Talcott's frequent visits,
dowager had to bite his lips to keep as might have been expected, was a very
from smiling. The brief remainder of splendid wedding, which took place in
the evening was spent in sober conversa the front parlor of the Bugbee mansion ,
tion . one evening during the winter after
Soon after nine o'clock the little
black girl showed Mr. Talcott up the Amelia came nineteen, the bridegroom
broad stairway into the best front cham- being then twenty -three, and just ad
ber, a spacious apartment directly over mitted to practice as an attorney -at-law .
the parlor, where he went to bed under In pursuance of a condition which Mrs.
a lofty tester canopy, with embroidered Bugbee had proposed, in order to avoid
curtains trimmed with lace. After a the pangs of a separation from her child,
long reverie, coming to the conclusion the young couple remained members of
that the downright courtship of a young the Doctor's household ; and Mr. Tal
lady in her father's house was a much cott, who, through the influence of his
more serious affair than a mere clandes- wife's father, had been taken into part
tine flirtation with a pretty school-girl, nership with a well -established attorney,
the young gentleman turned over upon commenced the practice of law at the
his side and went to sleep. Hillsdale bar. His partner, Squire
The next day, being Sunday, every. Bramhall, had for many years been
body went to meeting, except the Doc- clerk of the courts, and was a sage and
tor, who was obliged to ride away upon prudent counsellor, noted for the care
his round of visits. Accordingly, Mr. ful preparation bestowed upon his causes
Talcott walked twice to and fro across before they came to trial. But, in spite
the green, with Miss Amelia tripping of his learning and industrious painstak
demurely by his side, and served as the ing, he used to cut a poor figure at the
target for a thousand eyeshots as he bar; for being, though a lawyer, an ex
stood up the head of the Doctor's pew ceedingly modest and bashful man , he
during the long prayers. failed to acquire the habit of addressing
In the evening, after supper, the Doc- either court or jury with ease, fluency,
tor put off his grave Sabbath face and or force. On the other hand, Squire
invited his young guest to walk over to Talcott, as he soon came to be called ,
the store, which stood in the corner of was a young man of fine appearance
the yard, a little distance off. Presently, and good address, in no wise troubled
Miss Amelia, peeping from behind her with an undue degree of doubt touching
bedroom window -curtain , beheld them the excellence of his own abilities. His
sitting together upon the broad back- first argument before a jury was a showy
stoop of the store, talking and smoking and successful effort in behalf of a person
in aa most amicable manner, the fragrant for whom the sympathies of the public
incense of their cigars being wafted were already warmly enlisted. By this,
across the intervening space, which was of course, he won considerable applause.
quite too wide, however, to enable her to His subsequent attempts sustained the
hear the words of their earnest conversa- popular expectation. He began to ac
tion. But that night, as she and her quire distinction as a fluent, persuasive,
lover sat together alone in the frontand even eloquent speaker. A lawyer
parlor, after the family had gone to bed, baranguing a jury in a densely crowded
he told her that her father bad consented court -room fills a much larger space in
to his courtship. the public eye than when, in the soli
But if I am so circumstantial in relat- tude of his back -office, he is preparing a
ing these events, which are merely intra brief; and, as young Squire Talcott used
ductory to my story, I shall have neither to argue all the cases which his plodding
1857.] Alin by Marriage. 105

partner elaborately prepared to his hand, People began to shake their heads when
his fame as a wonderfully smart young her name was mentioned , and to pre
lawyer soon began to extend even be- dict that ere long she would follow her
yond the limits of the county. The daughter to the grave. At last, how
judges, in other places upon their cir- ever, after many weeks of close seclu
cuit, spoke of his quick and brilliant sion, she grew more cheerful, and seemed
parts, and his apparent learning and to transfer all the affection she had borne
familiar acquaintance with authorities, so the dead to the child who survived her.
unusual at his age . These flattering Not long after Amelia's death , the se
commendations, returning to Belfield , cret discontent existing in her husband's
came to young Talcott's ears. It would mind, which, if she had lived, would in
have been strange if he had not been time, perhaps, have abated, began in
too much elated by his sudden success stead to increase, and at length he came
in the practice of a profession in which to talk openly of departure. The Doc
80 very few win a speedy renown. For- tor, perceiving that he was firmly re
getful how much of the praise be re- solved upon the step, did not seriously
ceived was due to his partner's laborious endeavor to dissuade him ; and even Mrs.
researches and unobtrusive learning, he Bugbee could not withhold her consent,
suffered his vanity to lead him astray ; when the young widower said, with a
becoming discontented with his position, trembling voice, hecould not endure to
and secretly repining at the necessity by stay in a spot endeared to him by no
which he was compelled to remain in an other associations than those which con
obscure country town, when, as he im- tinually reminded him of his grievous
agined, his talents were sufficient to win loss. One stipulation only the good
for him , unaided, an easy and rapid pro couple insisted on ; namely, that Ame
motion even at the metropolitan bar. lia's child should be given to them , to be
The Doctor and his wife, as was to be adopted as their own daughter. Know
expected, soon got to be proud of their ing not whither he should go, the father
dever son -in -law . In fact, after the yielded ; reflecting that he could not bet
birth of a little girl, an event by which ter promote the welfare of his little girl
the honors of grand -paternity were con- than by consenting.
ferred upon the Doctor when he was but So, a few weeks afterwards, when
a year or two past forty, Mrs. Bugbee Edward Talcott bade farewell to Bel
could scarcely tell which she loved best, field , the relation of parent and child
her daughter, the baby, or its father. between him and his little daughter was
When little Helen, as the child was completely severed. For though since
named , was just coming three years old , their first sorrowful parting they have
Mrs. Talcott, being in childbed again, met more than once, and though long
was taken with a fever, and, in spite of after that mournful day she used to wear
everything which was done to save her, in her bosom a locket containing his
died , and was buried with her infant on miniature and a lock of his hair, which
her bosom . I do not need to relate she used to kiss every night and morn
what a grievous stroke this sad eventing, yet Helen seldom remembers that
was to all the household ,—nay, I might the distant stranger is her father, and be
say to the whole village as well ; for forgets to reckon his first-born among the
all who knew Amelia loved her, and the number of his children.
praise of the dead was in everybody's When he was gone, the child was told
mouth . As for poor Mrs. Bugbee, she that the name of Bugbee was thereafter
Borrowed like one in despair. Even the to be appended to those she already bore ;
worthy parson's pious words, to which and being quite pleased with the notion ,
she appeared to listen with passive at- she forthwith adopted her new appella
tention, fell unheeded upon her ear . tive, retaining it for several years, until
106 Akin by Marriage. [ November,
(such is the fickle nature of women ) she any one of whom would have jumped at
took a fancy to change it for another the chance to get her for a wife, and
which she liked better still. She was made but little account of the risk of her
also taught to call her grandparents papa turning out a shrew . To be sure, when
and mamma ; and though, while a child, I first knew her, she had rather a high
she continued to address Miss Cornelia and mighty way with her, at which some
by the title of " Aunty ," this respectful people took offence, calling her proud and
custom , as the relative difference between disdainful; but those whom she wished to
her age and the elder spinster's gradually please never failed to like her ; and I
diminished, was suffered, at the latter's used to observe sbe seldom put on any
special request, to fall into disuse, and of her lofty airs when she spoke to unpre
give place to the designation of sister. suming people, especially if they were
The few new - comers to Belfield, there poor or in humble circumstances.
fore, were never apt to suspect that Helen Though the indulgence of all her
Bugbee was not really the Doctor's own whims and fancies by her doting grand
daughter ; and even the neighbors forgot parents was a danger of no small mag
that her name had ever been changed, nitude, Helen encountered a still greater
except when the gossips sometimes put peril in the shape of a vast store of
each other in mind of it. novels, poems, and romances, which Miss
The older she grew the more Helen Cornelia had accumulated, and to which
resembled her mother, as the ladies als she was continually making additions.
ways used to exclaim when they came to In that young lady's bedchamber, where
take tea with Mrs. Bugbee. Some of Helen slept, there was a large bookcase
the village folks, who were in the habit, full of these seductive volumes; even the
80 common with old people, of thinking upper shelves of the wardrobe closet, and
that the race is continually degenerating, a cupboard over the mantel, were closely
I have heard express the opinion that packed with them ; and there was not
Helen was never so handsome as her one of them all which Helen had not
mother had been . But I have seen a read by the time she was fifteen. Thus,
portrait of Miss Amelia Bugbee, for in spite of natural good sense, strength
which she sat just before her wedding, ened and educated by much wise and
and which, I am assured, was, in the wholesome instruction, she grew up with
time of it, called a wonderful likeness ; an imagination quite disproportioned to
I also knew Miss Helen Talcott Bugbee her other mental faculties ; so that, in
when she was not far from her mother's some respects, she was almost as roman
age at the time the picture was taken ; tic in her notions as her Aunt Cornelia,
and though Miss Amelia must have been who, at forty, used to prefer moonlight
a very sweet young lady, of extraordi- to good honest sunshine, and would have
Darily good looks, I used to think, for heard with an emotion of delight that
my part, that Helen was much band- the mountains between Belfield and
somer than the portrait; although people Hartford were infested by a band of
of a different taste might very properly brigands, in picturesque attire, with a
have preferred the less haughty expres- handsome chief like Rinaldo Rinaldini,
sion of the face depicted on the canvas. or haunted by two or three dashing
It was not strange that Helen was highwaymen , of the genteel Paul-Clif
petted and humored as much as was well ford style. Indeed, the ideal lover, to
for her. But her disposition being natu- whom for many years Miss Cornelia's
rally docile and amiable, she was not to heart was constant as the moon, was a
be easily spoiled. Be that as it may, tall, dark , mysterious man, with a heavy
however, when she had grown to be a beard and glittering eyes, who, there is
woman, there were , I dare say, no less every reason to suspect, was either a
than fifty young men who knew her well, corsair, a smuggler, or a bandit chief.
 1857. ] Alin by Marriage. 107

I am loath to have it supposed that not advanced by regular stages beyond

Helen turned out a silly young woman . the period of her childhood, when she
Indeed , it would be wrong to believe so ; thought more of a single doll in her
for she possessed many good parts and baby-house, and held her in higher esti
acquirements. But I must confess that mation, than the whole rising gener
her fancy, being naturally lively, was ation of the other sex . I shall resumo
unduly stimulated by reading too many the thread of my narrative by relating,
books of the kind I have mentioned ; that, some two or three years before Miss
and that seeing but little of the world in Cornelia Bugbee, in her journey across
her tender years, she learned from their the sands of time, came to the thirtieth
pages to form false and extravagant no mile-stone, she arrived at an oasis in the
tions concerning it. She used to build desert of her existence ; or, to be more
castles in the air, was subject to fits of explicit, she had the rare good -fortune to
tender melancholy, and, like Miss Corne- find a heart throbbing in unison with her
lia, adored moonlight, pensive music, and own ,-a tender bosom in whose fidelity
sentimental poetry. But she would have she could safely confide even her most
shrunk from contact with a brigand, in precious secret ; namely, the passion she
a sugar-loaf hat, with a carbine slung entertained for the aforementioned cor
across his shoulder, and a stiletto in his
sair, -a being of congenial soul, whose
sash, with precisely the same kind and loving ears could hear and interpret
degree of horror and disgust that would her lowest whisper and most incoherent
have affected her in the presence of a murmur, by means of the subtile instinct
vulgar fos , ad , in a greasy Scotch -cap, of spiritual sympathy,—in fine, a trusty,
armed with a horse-pistol and a sheath- true, and confidential friend.
knife. Her romantic tastes differed in All this, and more, was Miss Laura
many respects from her Aunt Corne Stebbins, the youngest sister of Mrs.
lia's. She, too , had an ideal lover ; (and Jaynes, who, being suddenly left an
for that inatter the fickle little maid had orphan, dependent on the charity of her
several;) but the special favorite was a kindred, came to reside at the parsonage
charming young fellow , of fair complex- in Belfield . An intimacy forthwith com
ion, with blue eyes, and a light, elegant menced between the Doctor's daughter
moustache, his long brown hair falling and the Parson's sister-in -law, which ri
down his neck in wavy masses,-tall in pened speedily into the enduring friend
stature , athletic, and yet slim and grace- ship of which mention has just been
ful,-gifted with many accomplishments, made. There were some who affected to
with a heart full of noble qualities, and a wonder at the ardent attachment which
brain inspired by genius,-a poet, or an sprung up between the two young ladies,
author, or an artist, perhaps a lawyer because, forsooth, one ' was but sixteen,
merely, but of rare talents, at any rate a and the other eight-and -twenty ; as if
man of superior intellect,-in a word, a this slight disparity in years must neces
paragon , who, when he should appear sarily engender a diversity of tastes,
upon the carth, incarnate, she expected fatal to a budding friendship.
would conceive a violent passion for her, I would fain describe the person of
in which case , she- -should take it into Miss Laura Stebbins, if I coula call to
consideration whether to marry him or mind any similitudes, whereuntu to liken
not. her charms, which have not been worn
My inexperience in the art of story- out in the service of other people's
telling must be manifest to everybody ; heroines. To use any but brand-new
for here I am talking of Helen, as of a comparisons to illustrate graces like hers
young lady of sixteen or more , with shy would be singularly inappropriate; for
notions of beaux and lovers in her head , she herself always had a bright, fresh
-whereas, in point of time, my story has look, like some picce of handiwork just
108 Akin by Marriage. [ November,
finished by the maker. Her hair was was, she learned to talk in a romantic
black, glossy, and abundant. She had fashion, longed, above all things, to grow
large, hazel eyes, full of expression, thin, pretended to sigh frequently, and
shaded by long, black eyelashes, a clear, affected, at times, an air of pensive
lightbrown
- complexion, rosy cheeks, thoughtfulness. Her imagination began
small, even teeth , as white as cocoanut to be haunted by the apparition of a
meat, and lips whose color was like the brave, gallant, and exceedingly graceful
tint of sealing -wax. There was not a and good -looking young officer, of rank
straight line or an angle about her plump and high renown, who, she confidently
and well -proportioned figure. Her waist hoped, would some day appear before
was round and full, and yet appeared her, arrayed in full uniform , with a
80 slim between the ravishing curves of sword by his side, and, with all the im
her shapely form , above and below it, petuous ardor of a soldier, throw himself
that it seemed as if it were fashioned at her feet and pour forth aа declaration
80 on purpose to be embraced. of inextinguishable love.
If Laura had been as wise as she was Until Laura was nearly twenty, this
handsome, some pen more worthy than phantom in regimentals held exclusive
mine would have celebrated her wit and possession of her bosom , and reigned in
beauty. But she was nothing more than that sweet domain without a rival; for,
a wild, merry, frolicsome girl, whom , if strange as it may appear, she never had
you knew her, it was very hard not to a suitor of real flesh and blood , until a
like; even her reverend brother-in -law , a certain young divinity -student from East
very grave personage, of whom , at first, Windsor Seminary, who sometimes of a
she stood in no little awe, learned to Sunday when Mr. Jaynes was absent
smile at some of her very giddiest non- came over to Belfield to try his hand at
sense, and Mrs. Bugbee's sober reserve, preaching, perceived, by sly and stealthy
which had been increased by her domes- glances at Laura over the rim of his blue
tic afflictions, thawed in the sunshine spectacles, how exceeding comely the
of Laura's presence, like snow in the damsel was, and firmly resolved to win
warmth of a bright spring morning. her for a helpmeet. And even Mr.
Helen, also, grew to be extremely fond Elam Hunt ( for that was the pious stu
of Laura, who returned the child's re- dent's name) seemed scarcely more sub
gard in twofold measure, at least, and yet stantial than a ghost, so very pale and
had love enough to spare wherewith to bloodless was his meagre face, and so
answer the immense draughts upon her lean and spare his stooping, narrow
heart by which Miss Cornelia's romantic chested figure.
affection was repaid . This youthful saint was well esteemed
It was more than even Miss Cornelia by Laura's sister, Mrs. Jaynes, a sharp
Bugbee could do to transform this gay visaged little woman , to whose ener
creature into a lackadaisical young lady ; getic control her absent-minded, studious
though, as she tried her very best to husband surrendered the parsonage and
do so, none ought to blame her be- all it contained. Nay, she even shared
cause she failed of success. All ber his labors in the moral vineyard of
stock of novels she lent to Laura, who his parish ; for while he remained at
read them , every one, in secret, skipping home among his favorite volumes, she
only the dull and didactic pages. That used to go about from house to house ,
she was not spoiled by this experiment collecting donations in aid of some one
was due less to the strength of Laura's of the great eleëmosynary corporations,
understanding than to the liveliness of whose certificates attesting her life -mem
her temper, which, in this strait, stood bership, all framed and glazed, covered
her in very good stead of more solid the walls of the parsonage parlor. Her
qualities and a wiser experience. As it zeal in this good work was untiring, and
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 109

she levied tribute to her favorite charities I have already told you, she was as
upon all classes and conditions of her sweet and as pretty as a pink full of
neighbors with strict impartiality. The dewdrops, and might have picked out a
poorest widow was not suffered to with- sweetheart from as many beaux as she
hold her mite, and, wherever she went, bad fingers and thumbs, but that her
the pouting children of the household vigilant duenna, Mrs. Jaynes, kept the
were forced to open their money-boxes young fellows beyond courting distance.
and tin savings banks, and bring forth It was impossible, even for this shrewd
the hoarded pence with which they had and discreet lady, so to manage, without
hoped to purchase candy and toys at danger of giving offence, as to prevent
Christmas and New Year. The village Laura from associating with the other
folks reckoned the cost of her visits young folks of the parish ; and indeed,
among their annual expenses, and, when to do her justice, she was not so austerely
she was seen approaching, made ready, strict that she desired her sister to ab
as if a sturdy beggar or a tax -gatherer stain from all social intercourse with
was at the door. those of her own age, sex, and condition.
To have heard this estimable lady, On the contrary, as the reader already
when in private she sometimes rebuked knows, she was permitted to cherish a
the failings of her reverend spouse, one tender and devoted friendship for Miss
would not have supposed that she regard- Cornelia Bugbee; and there were sev .
ed him with awful veneration ; neverthe- eral other young ladies, whose brothers
less, she magnified his office greatly. were only little boys, with whom she was
The dignity conferred by ordination she on the most amicable and familiar terms.
held to be the highest honor to which a But by means of various arts and de
mortal man can possibly attain. Her vices Mrs. Jaynes contrived to keep the
self adorning the elevated station of a young men from becoming too intimate
pastor's wife, she resolved to secure for with her pretty sister; although some
Laura a position of equal eminence. of them had vainly endeavored to be
When, therefore, she perceived that her more than neighborly. If one ventured
sister had found favor in the eyes of Mr. to call at the parsonage, Mrs. Jaynes
Elam Hunt, she gave the bashful student was always in the parlor, with Laura, to
frequent opportunities to speak his mind ; receive him , and sat there, grimly, on
and when, at last, he ventured in pri- the sofa, as long as he staid ; taking a
vate to tell her of the flame which part in the conversation, which she gen
warmed his breast with a gentle glow , erally managed to turn upon the most
quite unlike that fervent heat by which grave and serious topics. The benighted
the hearts of more impassioned , worldly- condition of the heathen was a favorite
minded swains are apt to be tortured subject of discourse with her, upon these
and consumed , she assuaged his pangg occasions ; and the visitor was a lucky
of doubt by encouraging assurances of youth, if he escaped without making,
her countenance and favor. In the upon the spot, a cash contribution to
mean time she resolved to guard against the worthy cause of foreign missions.
every misadventure by which the suc- If Laura was invited to ride or to walk
cessful termination of his suit might be with a gentleman , Mrs. Jaynes always
prevented or imperilled . had a plausible pretext for objecting. It
This was by no means an easy thing was either too hot, or too cold, or too
to do; for Laura, at twenty, though damp, or too dusty, or there was sure to
an orphan , without a penny to buy be some other reason , equally sufficient,
even so much as a dozen teaspoons for for withholding her consent. As for balls
a setting -out, was not a girl that would and cotillon parties, the most enterpris
have been apt to lack for lovers, if she ing and audacious youngster of them all
bad had a fair chance to get them . As would have quailed at the idea of facing
110 The Origin of Didactic Poetry. [ November
the parson's wife with a request to take belief of what she so earnestly denied .
her sister to such a place. At last the For it is a very common artifice with
report got wind that Mrs. Jaynes was young women to pretend a strong aver
saving Laura for Mr. Elam Hunt, until sion for their most favored lovers, and to
such time as, having finished his course feign an utter dislike and abhorrence for
of study at East Windsor, he should be the very persons whom they love most
ordained and settled in a parish of his fondly. Others, however, gave credit
own, and ready to take to himself a to her passionate declarations, and be
wife. To be sure, it did not seem that lieved that she recoiled from the idea
Laura was of the right sort of temper of marrying the lank young student with
for a minister's sober helpmeet; nev- unfeigned repugnance and disgust.. Be
ertheless, this rumor gained credit, and tween people holding these diverse opin
very soon came to be believed by many ions discussions would sometimes arise,
of the neighbors. Mrs. Jaynes, it was especially at meetings of the Dorcas
noticed, would never contradict the Society, when neither Laura nor Mrs.
story, though, to be sure, Laura herself Jaynes was present. But, just at this
always did, whenever she had a chance juncture, an event occurred which gave
to do so . Indeed, she was often heard a new direction to the current of village
to declare, with great vehemence and gossip, setting every member of the Dor.
apparent sincerity, that she would as cas sisterhood all agape with wonder and
lief be buried alive as marry that living surprise, and all agog with excitement
skeleton,-by which scandalous epithet and curiosity. Of this strange and mem
she designated the lean and reverend orable affair I will presently give a
youth from East Windsor. Some people veritable account, and even show the
who heard these protestations let them reader how it came to pass. But in the
go for naught, giving them all the less mean time the fortunes of the Bugbee
heed on account of their violence, or, family demand my brief attention.
perbaps, being even confirmed in the
( Continued in the next Number.]

THE ORIGIN OF DIDACTIC POETRY

WHEN wise Minerva still was young
And just the least romantic,
Soon after from Jove's head she flung
That preternatural antic,
' Tis said to keep from idleness
Or flirting , —those twin curses,
She spent her leisure, more or less,
In writing po , no, verses.
How nice they were to rhyme with far
A kind star did not tarry ;
The metre, too , was regular
As schoolboy's dot and carry ;
1857.) The Origin of Didactic Poetry. 111

And full they were of pious plums,

So extra -super-moral,-
For sacking Virtue's tender gums
Most tooth -enticing coral.
A clean, fair copy she prepares,
Makes sure of moods and tenses,
With her own hand , —for prudence spares
A man- (or woman ) -uensis;
Complete, and tied with ribbons proud,
She hinted soon how cosy a
Treat it would be to read them loud
Aner next day's Ambrosia.

The Gods thought not it would amuse

So much as Homer's Odyssees,
But could not very well refuse
The properest of Goddesses;
So all sat round in attitudes
of various dejection,
As with a hem ! the queen of prudes
Began her grave prelection.
At the first pause Zeus said, “ Well sung
I mean — ask Phæbus,-he knows. "
Says Pbæbus, “ Zounds ! a wolf's among
Admetus's merinos !
Fine! very fine ! but I must go ;
They stand in need of me there ;
Excuse me ! " snatched his stick, and on
Plunged down the gladdened ether.

With the next gap, Mars said, “ For me

Don't wait,-naught could be finer;
But I'm engaged at half-past three ,
A fight in Asia Minor !”
Then Venus lisped, “ How very thad !
It rainth down there in torrinth ;
But I mulht go , becauthe they've had
A thacrifithe in Corinth ! ”

Then Bacchus, — “ With those slamming doors

I lost the last half dist— (hic !)
Mos' bu'ful se'ments ! what's the Chor's ?
My voice shall not be missed— (hic !) "
His words woke Hermes ; " Ah ! ” he said,
“ I so love moral theses 1 "
Then winked at Hebe, who turned red ,
And smoothed her apron's crcases.

Just then Zeus snored , —the Eagle drew

llis head the wing from under ;
112 The Financial Flurry. [ November,
Zeus snored,-o'er startled Greece there flew
The many -volumed thunder;
Some augurs counted nine,--some, ten,
Some said, ' twas war, --some, famine, -
And all, that other-minded men
Would get a precious

Proud Pallas sighed, “ It will not do ;

Against the Muse I've sinned, oh ! "
And her torn rhyines sent tlying through
Olympus's back window .
Then, packing up a peplus clean,
She took the shortest path thence,
And opened, with a mind serene,
A Sunday-school in Athens.
The verses ? Some, in ocean swilled,
Killed every fish that bit to 'em ;
Some Galen caught, and, when distilled ,
Found morphine the residuum ;
But some that rotted on the earth
Sprang up again in copies,
And gave two strong narcotics birth, -
Didactic bards and poppies.

Years after, when a poet asked

The Goddess's opinion ,
As being one whose soul bad basked
In Art's clear-aired dominion -
“ Discriminate ,” she said, “ betimes ;
The Muse is unforgiving;
Put all your beauty in your rhymes,
Your morals in your living."

THE FINANCIAL FLURRY.

“ Break, break , break,
On thy cold, gray crags, O Sea ! ”

“ I REMEMBER a day, ” said a friend the towering cone of Vesuvius cleaves

not long since, “ a day as sweet, calm , the skies. It was in the spring-time;
cool, and bright as that whose wed- luxuriant nature seemed to have nothing
ding and funeral song the poet sings in to do but to grow and bloom , and the
the same verse, when I stood upon the huge mountain itself was profoundly at
white sea - coast near Naples, and lookedpeace,-smiling a welcome, apparently,
far away across the blue, silent waters, to the delicate bean -plants and wild
and up the gray, flowery stceps, to where vines which clambered up its sides, and
1857.] The FinancialFlurry. 113

wearing a light carl of smoke, like a cloudless sky holding the green and
gay coronal, around its brow . The bay peaceful earth in its complacent em
Jas alive with red -capped fishermen, brace . "
each one intent on fishing up his invert- We could not, as we listened to the
ed brother below him ; the beach was story of the traveller, help considering
thronged with women , who chattered it an illustration of that great convulsion
cheerfully over their baskets ; and along of finance which has visited us during
the roads scampered soldiers in bright the last month. We do not mean to call
uniforms, as if they had no conceivable this an eruption, which would scarcely
purpose in life but to bathe in that clear be appropriate,-inasmuch as the char
sunshine, and breathe that soft, delicious acteristic of it was not a preternatural
air. activity, but rather a preternatural stag
66
“ A few hours later ,” continued he, “ I nation and paralysis ; but there is cer
stood not far from the same spot, and tainly a striking similarity in the con
saw that mountain angrily belching forth trasts presented by the two pictures just
pitch and flames ; the earth beneath my painted, and the contrasts presented in
feet groaned with sullen, suppressed rage, the condition of the commercial world
or as if it were in pain ; vast volumes of as it is now, and as it was only a few
lurid smoke rolled through the sky, and weeks since. Then all nature smiled ,
streams of melted brimstone coursed and we scarcely thought of the future in
down the hill- sides, burning up the pret- the happy consciousness of the present;
ty flowers, crushing the trees, and ruth- whereas now all nature seems to frown,
lessly devouring the snug farms and and we eagerly long for the future to
cottages of the loving Philemons and escape the endless vexations and mig.
Baucises who had incautiously built too eries of the present. Our trade, which
near the fatal precinct. The poor con- lately bloomed like a Neapolitan spring
tadini, who lately chaffered so vivacious day, is now covered with clouds and
ly over their macaroni and chestnuts, sifted with ashes, as if some angry Vesu
were flying panic -smitten in all direc- vius had exploded its con ' ents over it,
tions; some clasped their crucifixes, and and shot the hot lavartides among our
called wildly upon the saints for protec- snug vineyards and cottages. May we
tion ; others leaped frantically into boats not also, in this case , as in thrt, draw
and rowed themselves dead, in the need- some consolation from the knowledge
less endeavor to escape death ; while the that the stars are still shining behin ' the
general expression of the people was smoke, and that the sun will assure Uy
that of aa multitude who, the next minute, come up tomorrow , as it has come up
expected to see the skies fall to crush on so many morrows, for so many thous
them , or the earth open to swallow them ands of years ? Convulsions, by the very
up forever. But I was myself unmov- fact of their violence, show that they are
ed ,” our friend concluded, in his usual short-lived ; and though we, who suffer
vein of philosophy, “ though, I trust, not by them directly, are apt to derive tho
unsympathizing; because II saw , through slenderest solace from the philosophy
those dun clouds of smoke, the stars still which demonstrates their transientness,
shining serenely aloft, and because I felt or their utility in certain aspects, it is
that after that transient convulsion of nevertheless profitable, for various rea
nature the great sun would rise as sons, to make them a subject of remark .
majestically as ever on the morrow , to In a season of great public calamity.
show us, here and there, no doubt, a moreover, everybody feels that he ought
beautiful tract now desolate, here and to participate in it in some way, if not as
there a fruitful vale now filled with a sufferer, then as a sympathizer, and, in
ashes, but also, the same glorious bay either capacity, as a speculator upon its
breathing calmly in its bed, the same causes and probable effects. The learn
VOL . I. 8
114 The Financial Flurry. [ November,
ed historian, Monsieur Alcofribas, who may seem to be from the domain of eth
preserves for our instruction “the heroic ics. God rules in the market, as he does
deeds and prowesses ” of the great king on the mountain ; he has provided eter
of the Dipsodes, tells us how that once, nal laws for society, as he has for the stars
when Philip of Macedon threatened or the seas ; and it is just as impossible to
Corinth, the virtuous inhabitants of that escape him or his ways in Wall Street or
city were thrown into mortal fear; but State Strect as it is anywhere else . We
they were not too much paralyzed to for- do not wish to suggest any improper
get the necessity of defence; and whilc comparisons, but does not the Psalmist
some fortified the walls, others sharpened assert, “ If I make my bed in sheol, be
spears, and others again carried the bas hold Thou art there ” ?
kets, the noble Diogenes, who was doubt- In other words, commerce, the ex
less the chief literary man of the place, change of commodities, banking, and
was observed to thwack and bang his tub whatever relates to it, currency, the rise
with unmerciful vehemence. When he and fall of prices, the rates of profits,
was asked why he did so, he replied, that are all subject to laws as universal and
it was for the purpose of showing that he unerring as those which Newton deduces
was not a mere slug and lazy spectator, in the “ Principia,” or Donald McKay
in a crowd so fervently exercised. In applies in the construction of a clipper
these times, therefore, when Philip of ship. As they are manifested by more
Macedon is not precisely thundering at complicated phenomena, man may not
our walls, but nibbling at every man's know them as accurately as he knows
cupboard and cheese -press, it behooves the laws of astronomy or mechanics; but
each Diogenes to rattle his tub at least, in : he can no more doubt the existence of the
order to prove, in the spirit of his proto former than he can the existence of the
type and master, latter ; and he can no more infringe the
“ Though he be rid of fear, one than he can infringe the other with
He is not void of care."
impunity. The poorest housekeeper is
If the noise he makes only add to the perfectly well aware that certain rules of
general turbulence and confusion, the order are to be observed in the manage
show of sympathy will at least go for ment of the house, or else you will have
something. either starvation or the sheriff inside of
The same authority, whom we have it in a little time. But what means that
just quoted, has a piece of advice with formidable, big -sounding phrasc, Political
which we intend to set our tub in motion . Economy, more than national housekeep
“ Whatsoever,” he says, “ those blind- ing ? Can you manage the immense,
folded , blockheady fools, the astrologers overgrown family of Uncle Sam with
of Louvain, Nuremberg, Tubingen, and less calculation, less regard to justice,
Lyons, may tell you, don't you feed your prudence, thrift, than you use in your
selves up with whims and fancies, nor own little affairs ? Can you sail that
believe there is any Governor of the tremendous vessel, the Ship of State,
whole universe this year but God the without looking well to your chart and
Creator, who by his Word rules and compass and Navigator's Guide ?
governs all things, in their nature, pro- When the “ Central America " sinks to
priety, and conditions, and without whose the bottom of the sea with five hundred
preservation and governance all things souls on board, though it is in the midst
in a moment would be reduced to noth- of a terrible tempest, the public instinct
ing, as out of nothing they were by him is inclined to impute the disaster less to
created. ” It is a most sound and salutary the mysterious uproar of wind and wave
truth, not to be forgotten in times of than to some concealed defect in the
commercial distress, nor even in discuss- vessel. Had she sunk in a tranquil
ing financial questions, remote as they ocean , while the winds were idle and
1857.] The Financial Flurry. 115

the waves asleep, the incident would each one rapping out his own tune ;
have produced a burst of indignation, each one screaming to boot, to be heard
above the deeper wail of sorrow , strong above the din !
enough to sweep the guilty instruments One cries, that we Americans are an
of it out of existence. The world would unconscionably greedy people, ever hast
have felt that some great law of me- ing to get rich, never satisfied with our
chanics had been wilfully violated. But gains, and, in the frantic eagerness of
here is a whole commercial society sud- accumulation , disregarding alike justice,
denly wrecked , in a moment of general truth , probity, and moderation. Under
peace, after ten years of high, but not this impulso our trade becomes an inces
very florid or very unwholesome pros- sant and hazardous adventure, like the
perity, on the heel of an abundant rec- stakes of the gambler upon the turn of
ompense to the efforts of labor,—when the dice, or upon the figures of the
there has occurred no public calamity, no sweat-cloth ; a feverish impatience for
war, no famine, no fire, no domestic in- success pushes everything to the verge
surrection , scarcely one startling event, of ruin, and only after it has toppled
and when the interpositions of the govern- over the brink , and we have followed
ment have been literally as unfelt as the it, does the danger of the game we
dropping of the dew, aa whole commercial had been playing become apparent.-- A
society is wrecked ; values sink to the second qualifies this view , and shouts,
bottom like the California gold on the that our vice is not so much greed,
“ Central America ” ; great money -cor which is the vice of the miser, as ex
porations fall to pieces as her state -rooms travagance, which is the vice of the
and cabins fell to pieces ; the relations spendthrift ; and that as soon as we get
of trade are dislocated as her ribs and one dollar, we run in debt for ten .
beams were dislocated ; and the people We must have fine houses, fine horses,
are cast upon an uncertain sea, as her fine millinery, fine upholstery, troops of
>

passengers were cast,—not to struggle for servants, and give costly dinners, and
physical existence like them , but to en- attend magnificent balls. Our very
dure an amount of anguish and despair shops and counting -houses must resem
almost equal to what was endured by ble the palaces of the Venetian nobility,
those unhappy victims. and our dwellings be more royally ar
Now can this have happened arbitra- rayed than the dwellings of the mighti
rily, capriciously, mysteriously, without est monarchs. When the time comes
some gross and positive violation of social
as come it will — for paying for all this
law , some wilful and therefore wicked glorious frippery, we collapse, we wither,
departure from the known principles of we fleet, we sink into the sand . - A third
science ? Every random conjecture as Diogenes, of a more practical turn of
to the causes of the prevailing distress mind, vociferates, that the whole thing
implies an answer to the question, and comes from the want of a high protec
it need not be repeated. It is more im- tive tariff. These subtle and malignant
portant to inquire what those violations foreigners, who are so jealous of our
and departures have been, than to reiter- progress, who are ever on the watch
ate the general principle. What has led to ruin us, who make any quantity of
to the lamentable results under which goods at any time, for nothing, and send
we suffer ? What has rendered the them here just at the right moment, to
winds so tempestuous that they must swamp us irrecoverably, are the authors
needs blow down our noble ship ? What of the mischief, and ought to be kept
has provoked the ire of those big bully outside of the nation by a triple wall of
waves so that they advance to demolish icebergs drawn around cach port. They
us ? Ah ! hark just here how the Di- pour in upon us a flood of commodities,
ogenidæ tumble and thump their tubs ! which destroys our manufactures ; they
116 The Financial Flurry. [ November
carry off all our gold and silver, which barter, you must have a standard or
eviscerates the banks ; the banks squeeze measure of values; and human ingenu
the merchants, to the last drop of blood ; ity has never been able to devise any
and the merchants perish in the process, standard more perfect, in essential re
carrying with them hosts of mechanics, spects, than the precious metals. It may
farmers, and professional men . — Not so, be doubted, indeed, whether the choice
bellows a fourth philosopher, perhaps a of these metals for currency is a result of
little more seedy than the rest; it is all human ingenuity. Paley and his school
the work of “ the infernal credit sys- of theologians demonstrate the existence,
tem ,” — of the practice of making money intelligence, and goodness of God from
out of that which is only a promise to the evidences of design in creation ,
pay money, out of that which purports from that nice adaptation of means to
to have a real equivalent in some vault, ends which shows an infinite knowledge
when no such equivalent exists, and is, and infinite benevolence at work ; but no
therefore, a fraud on the face of it,-- and one of the instances in which they found
which, deluging the community, raises their argument, from the watch, which
the price of everything, begets specula- affords the primal illustration, to the
tion, stimulates an excessive and facti- human body, which furnishes the most
tious trade, and is then suddenly with complex confirmations, is a more aston
drawn from the system , at the height of ishing or exquisite proof of pre-arrange
its inflation, like wind sucked from a ment than is the adaptedness of gold
bladder, to leave it a mere flaccid, and silver .to the purposes of currency.
wrinkled, empty, worthless old film of Your standard or measure, for instance,
fat ! must, in the first place, possess a certain
Now , for our part, we think all the uniformity ; if it be a measure of capaci
Diogenidæ right, but not precisely in the ty, it must not be of the size of a thim
way in which they state the matter ; and ble in the morning, and as big as a hay
we think the seedy Diogenes the rightest stack at night, like the mystic bottle of
the fairy tale ; if a measure of length , it
of all ,—because he has struck nearest to
the centre, to the organic fact which must not be made of caoutchouc, as long
controls the other facts,-yet, without as your finger today, and as long as the
sharing his prejudice against credit, Atlantic Cable to -morrow ; and so , if a
one of the blessedest of inventions. measure of value, it must not equal one
As a very long and a very dull trea- thousand at ten o'clock , and equal zero
tise, however, would scarcely suffice to at three . But the precious metals do
explain all the reasons for our thinking possess this uniformity ; they are not
so , we must devote the one or two scarce, as diamonds are, so that a pinch
pages that are given us to a few sim- of them might measure the value of a
ple, elementary, frontal principles, famil- city ; nor are they as plenty as blackber
iar, no doubt, to every one, and there ries, so that a wagon -load could scarcely
fore the more important to be recalled , buy a fat goose for dinner. They can
when every one seems to have forgot- not be washed away like a piece of soap,
ten them . Nothing is better known nor wear out like a bit of wampum ,
than the laws of gravitation ; nothing nor crumble like agate or carnelian in
staler in the repetition ; but if the folk dividing. In short, they combine all the
around us are building their houses 80 advantages that are needed , with few or
that they all fall down upon our heads, none of the disadvantages that would
it behooves us to remind them of those be troublesome, in a substance which is
laws. used for money. They possess intrinsic
1. Human wisdom has discovered utility, they are equably supplied, they
nothing clearer than this, that in all the may be easily divided and then fused
operations of trade above a primitive again, they take a stamp, and they re
1857.] The Financial Flurry. 117

tain the same qualities everywhere and discovery of the South American mines
at all times. Accordingly, all the civil- by the Spaniards, and of the California
ized nations, from the time of great mines by the Americans, has there been
great-great-grandfather Moses down to recorded an unusual production of gold
the time of President Buchanan, bave and silver ; and in both cases, it is impor
used the precious metals for their stand- tant to note, the same effect followed ,-a
ard of values ; while your barbarians very considerable enhancement of prices ;
only, your silly Sandwich -islanders, your that is, all other articles seemed to grow
stupid troglodytes of interior Africa, your dear, although the real fact was that
savage red men, have used for that pur- money had only grown cheap. In Spain
pose fish -bones, beaver-skins, cowries, every commodity rose ; everybody ex
strings of beads, or a lump of old rags. perienced that delicious feeling, which
Q. E. D., then , on Paley's principles, we sometimes enjoy in dreams, of going
the precious metals were meant by Di- up without spring or effort; and Spain
vine Providence for use as money , at was considered to be enviably prosperous
least more than anything else, because and happy. As for San Francisco, we
nothing else is so well adapted to the all remember the fabulous prices which
.end . Intelligent man everywhere has ruled in that vicinity. An acquaintance
been glad to recognize the Divine teach- of ours wrote us then , that he gave five
ing; and the American man - holding dollars for a dinner consisting of half a
himself the most intelligent of all men- pullet and two potatoes, and when he
has incorporated the lesson in his funda- added a pint ofchampagne, it came to
mental law . Nothing can be money for five dollars more. He allowed his wasb
him , constitutionally , but metal which erwoman one hundred and fifty dollars
has a genuine ring in it. a month, paid fifty dollars for a pair of
2. Being the established standard, the second -hand cow -hide boots, and hired
precious metals, so long as they continue a cellar, seven feet by nine, and six
unchanged in amount, have a precise and feet under ground, at the rate of fifteen
definite relation to all other commodi- thousand dollars a year. But both in
ties. But they do not continue unchang- Spain and in San Francisco this ludi
ed ; and neither do other commodities crous exaggeration of values cured itself.
continue unchanged. There is more The manufacturers and merchants of all
gold at one time than another, and more the world sent their goods of all sorts
wheat at one time than another; so that to such tempting markets ; and it was not
the relation between the two is not a long before the goods, not the money ,
determinate, but a variable one ; and it were in excess . Prices came down, as
is this variation which causes or consti- sailors say, by the run , and Spain and
tutes the fluctuation of prices. If wheat San Francisco were reduced once more
increases in quantity, more of it will be to rationality and comfort. These were
given for the same money ; and if it de exceptional cases, but they illustrate the
creases, less of it will be given for the general principle, that the increase of
game money ; on the other hand, if money raises prices, and the decrease
money increases, more of it will be given of money lowers them , which is all we
for a specific quantity of wheat, and if wish to state. In ordinary cases, how
it decreases, less will be given ; while if ever, when the currency is in its normal
they increase or decrease together, a rel- condition, this rise and fall of prices is
ative equilibrium will be maintained. like the rise and fall of the tides, the mere
But the beauty of the precious metals, pulsations of the great sea, which drown
as we have said , is that they are not and damage nobody, and rather keep
liable to very sudden or considerable in- the waters more clear and wholesome by
crease or decrease ; only twice in the their gentle agitation.
course of history, on the occasion of the 3. The same law is observed to oper
118 The Financial Flurry. [November,
ate , whenever anything is made, either ed from nation to nation ; but a paper
by the decrees of government or the currency is local, and cannot be so well
usages of society, to take the place of corrected by the great interchanges of
the precious metals as money. Paper, the globe. Let us make this clearer in
in the shape of bank -bills, promising to another way.
pay money on demand, is the most fre- 4. It is universally conceded , by all
quent, because the most cheap and con- the writers on finance, that any unusual
venient substitute ; accordingly, when production of currency occasions a rise
convertible paper -money is increased , it of prices ; the relative value of money is
raises prices, and when it is diminished, less than it was before, while the rela
it depresses prices, just as in the case tive value of other articles is greater ; a
of a metallic currency . But there are greater quantity of money is given for
these two signal points of distinction be- other articles, and fewer of other articles
tween a paper and a metallic currency : are given for the same amount of money.
first, that paper money may be increased This rise has the double effect of provok.
or diminished much more easily than ing the importation of foreign commodi
metallic money ; and, second, that any ties, and of preventing the cxportation
excess or deficiency of the former is not of domestic commodities ; inasmuch as the
so easily corrected by the natural opera- same enhancement of rates, which opens
tions of trade. The sudden or large in- a good domestic market for the former,
crease of the metals is prevented by closes the foreign market to the latter ;
their scarcity and the laborious processes and thus an unfavorable balance accu
necessary to produce them , and a sud- mulates rapidly against the country
den or large decrease of them could be where the rise occurs, in respect to other
brought about only by some great public countries where it has not occurred .
calamity which should destroy them or Now sooner or later this balance must
cause them to be hoarded . But paper be paid ; and as products cannot be
money, whether made by a government profitably shipped abroad to furnish a
or made by authorized corporations, may fund whereupon to draw bills of ex
be issued and put in circulation almost at change, it must be paid in coin. The
will, and again be withdrawn at will. coin is therefore abstracted from circula
We do not mean that the issue and tion ; and if coin were the only currency,
withdrawal of it are wholly unchecked, such an abstraction would of itself in
but that the checks, as the entire history duce aa fall of prices, which would oper
of banking would seem to prove, are ate as a check upon importations until
comparatively inefficient and delusive. the old relation of equilibrium should be
If the rise and fall of prices, caused by restored . But where the government, or
the fluctuations of metallic money, are to where individuals, whether organized or
be compared to the rise and fall of the alone, have the power to replace the de
tides, the rise and fall of paper prices parted coin by issues of paper money,
are more like the increase and decreaseprices are for a while maintained , and
of steam in a boiler, which is an ad- importations continued as vigorously as
mirable agent, but demanding an inces- ever . All this, however, is but a post
sant and scientific control. The sea ponement of the day of settlement. The
tides, even after a tempest, will regulate balance to be extinguished is a substan
themselves, because they have all the tial balance, which can be discharged
oceans and all the rivers of the globe only by substantial means ; a mere
to draw upon ; but the steam in a boiler promise to pay, a mere sign and rep
is a thing confined , and yet capable of resentative of debt, will not extinguish
immense and destructive expansion. A it, any more than the smell of a cook
metallic currency runs from nation to shop will extinguish a ravenous appe
nation, and has its perturbations correct- tite. The insatiable creditor will have
1857.] The Financial Flurry. 119

money ; and the depositories of that es causes,-a short crop ,-a reduced tariff,
sential become, under his assaults, more -a peculiar mania of enterprise,may
and more meagre and tenuous. The hasten or retard the various steps of the
managers of them at last get alarmed , process which has been described ; but
and begin to withhold their issues of its cause and its course are almost always
paper ; which means that they begin to the same, and the discerning eye may
reduce their loans to the community. casily detect them , from the beginning
The money -market grows “ tight,” as it to the end of our modern commercial
is phrased ; the money-world feels gen- experience. In the existing difficulties,
erally as if it had taken an overdose in this country, the railroad specular
of persimmons. Merchants and dealers, tions have had much to do with pro
shorn of their usual accommodations, are ducing and aggravating the effect; but
compelled to borrow at ruinous usuries, the primary source of it, we think, is to
or to fail to meet their payments. Their be found in the ease with which our cur
default involves others; others fail, and rency is inflated, under a banking sys
others again. The bowels of the banks, tem which varies from State to State,
with us the great money -lenders, close and which, outside of New England and
with the snap and tenacity of steel-traps ; New York , where is by no means per
and then a general panic, or want of fect, is as bungling a contrivance, for the
commercial confidence, brings on a pa ends to be answered, as was ever in
ralysis of the domestic exchanges, and Alicted on the patience of mankind. Much
wide-spread bankruptcy and ruin. Im- of the trouble is due also to the extrava
portations are checked , of course ; but gance and reckless waste of our people,
they are checked in a sharp, rapid , and which, though owing in some degree to
violent way , accompanied by the most our want of good manners and good
painful embarrassments and convulsions. taste, are directly traceable to the stim
This we believe to be an outline of ulus given to expense by the over-issue
the history of all our commercial catas- of artificial money. While the paper
trophes, stripped of those local and inci- which passes for money is plenty, and
dental circumstances which vary from every man can easily get “ accommo
time to time: over-issues of money , dations ” from the banks, we squander
speculative prosperity ,—all the worldget without thought. No matter how costly
ting rich in the most agreeable manner, the articles we buy ; the expansion of the
-fairy palaces rising on all sides, with- currency is greater than the rise in mar
out the sound of trowel or hammer ; ket values ; and it is only when the con
then , —the day of adjustment,—the rapid traction comes that we see how foolishly
contraction of the currency,—all the lavish we have been .
world getting poor in the most drastic What, then, is the remedy ? “ Why,
and disagreeable manner ,-- and those away with paper currency altogether ! "
fairy palaces, which rose under our very says one. Yes, -tear up your Croton
eyelids over -night, vanishing, like the water-pipes, because the breaking of a
palace of Aladdin from the vision of the main sometimes submerges your dwell
Grand - Seignior after he awoke in the ings; destroy your railroads, because the
morning. But, alas ! the revulsion does trains sometimes run off the track ; arrest
not stop with the overthrow of the pal- your steamships, because an “ Arctic ” and
aces which had been reared without a “ Central America " go disastrously down
labor ; it is not satisfied with the dissipar into the deep, deep sea ! That were not
tion of mere fancies and dreams; but, wise, surely ; that were very unwise,
being itself a most real thing, it carries even were it possible, which it is not
with it many a stately structure, which “ Give us a high protective tariff,” says
the toil, the economy, the self-denial of another. Most certainly, friend , if we
>

years had hardly raised . Extraneous are to be perpetually flooded with paper,
120 Sonnet. [ November,
a high tariff is needed ;-your theory is we only regret that we have not now
at least consistent, however it may have space to discuss that faith with you in all
worked in practice. But аa high protec- its reasons and results. We hope to be
tive tariff is an impossibility, because it permitted to do so at some other time.
can be attained only by favor of the Fed- Meanwhile, let us rejoice that the whole
eral legislature ; and, as we all know, at subject is in a position to be frankly dis
the door of that legislature stands the cussed . A few years ago , when the
inexorable shape of the Slave Power, question of the currency was a question
which consults no interest but its own of party politics, there was no aspect in
in the management of government, and which it could be presented, which did
which will never make a concession to not arouse all the restless jealousies of
the manufacturers or the merchants of party prejudice. If you talked of hard
the North , unless it be to purchase some money, you were denounced as a Benton
new act of baseness, or bind them in bullionist; if you talked of credit, you
some new chains of servility. — But have were called a Whig banker, plotting to
you inquired whether that flood of paper devour the poor; and the calmest phrases
is necessary ? We frankly tell you that of science were turned into the shibbo
we do not believe it is; we believe leths of an internecine warfare. A bet
that a better system is possible,—to be ter hour has come, and let us improve it
brought about, not by greater restrictions to our mutual edification.
on banking, but by greater freedom ; and

SONNET.

THE Maple puts her corals on in May,

While loitering frosts about the lowlands cling,
To be in tune with what the robins sing,
Plastering new log-hu 'mid her branches gray ;
But when the Autumn southward turns away ,
Then in her veins burns most the blood of Spring,
And every leaf, intensely blossoming,
Makes the year's sunset pale the set of day.
O Youth unprescient, were it only so
With trees you plant, and in whose shade reclined ,
Thinking their drifting blooms Fate's coldest snow ,
You carve dear names upon the faithful rind ,
Nor in that vernal stem the cross foreknow
That Age may bear, silent, yet unresigned !
1857.] The Round Table . 121

THE ROUND TABLE .

It was said long ago, that poets, like
canaries, must be starved in order to keep
them in good voice, and, in the palmy
days of Grub Street, an editor's table
was nothing grander than his own knee ,
on which , in his airy garret, he unrolled
his paper-parcel of dinner, happy if its
wrapping were a sheet from Brown's last
poem , and not his own. Now an editorial
table seems to mean a board of green
cloth at which literary broken - victuals are
served out with no carving but that of the
editorial scissors.
La Maga has her table, too, and at fit
ting times invites to it her various Emi
nent Hands. It is a round table , -that is,
- time,
rounded by the principle of rotation ,-for
how could she settle points of precedence
with the august heads of her various De
partments without danger of the dinner's
growing cold ? Substantial dinners are
eaten thereat with Homeric appetite, nor,
though impletus venter non vult studere liben
ter , are the visits of the Muse unknown .
At these feasts no tyranny of speech -mak
ing is allowed, but the bonbons are all wrap
ped in original copies of verses by various
contributors, which, having served their
festive turn , become the property of the
guests. Reporters are not admitted , for
the eating is not done for inspection, like
that of the hapless inmates of a menagerie ;
but La Maga herself sometimes brings
away in her pocket a stanza or so which
she esteems worthy of a more general
communication . Last month she thus se
questered the following Farewell addressed
by Holmes to the historian of William the
Silent.
Yes, we knew we must lose him ,-though
frie ship may claim
To blend her green leaves with the laurels of
fame;
Though fondly, at parting, we call him our
own ,
' Tis the whisper of love when the bugle has
blown.
As the rider that rests with the spur on his
heel,
As the guardsman that sleeps in his corselet
of steel,
As the archer that stands with his shaft on
the string,
He stoops from his toil to the garland wo
bring.
What pictures yet slumber unborn in his
loom
Till their warriors shall breathe and their
beauties shall bloom ,
While the tapestry lengthens the life-glowing
dyes
That caught from our sunsets the stain of
their skies !
In the alcoves of death, in the charnels of
Where flit the gaunt spectres of passion and
crime,
There are triumphs untold , there are martyrs
unsung ,
There are heroes yet silent to speak with his
tongue !
Let us hear the proud story that time has
bequeathed
From lips that are warm with the freedom
they breathed !
Let him summon its tyrants, and tell us their
doom ,
Though he sweep the black past like Van
Tromp with his broom !
The stream flashes by, for the west-winds
awake
On pampas, on prairie, o'er mountain and
lake,
To bathe the swift bark, like a sea- girdled
shrine,
With incense they stole from the rose and the
pine,
So fill a bright cap with the sunlight that
gushed
When the dead summer's jewels were tram
pled and crushed :
THE TRUE KNIGHT OF LEARNING , -- the world
holds him dear,
Love bless him , Joy crown him, God speed
his career !
Aug. 8, 1857 .
122 Literary Notices.
LITERARY NOTICES.
The Greyson Letters. Selections from the
Correspondence of R. E. H. GREYSON,
Esq . Edited by HENRY ROGERS, Au-
thor of “ The Eclipse of Faith ," & c.
Boston : Gould & Lincoln. 1 vol. 12mo.
We are assured in the American pref-
ace to this volume, that while it exhibits
Henry Rogers as the peer of Butler as a
reasoner, it also shows him not inferior to
Lamb as a humorist. Much as we are
inclined to echo the critical decisions of
prefaces, we regret being unable to in-
dorse this confident statement. In ampli-
tude, vigor, and fertility of thought we
6
must think the author of the “ Analogy ”
holds some slight advantages over the
author of “ The Eclipse of Faith " ; and
we seriously doubt if the lovers of Charles
Lamb will be likely to rush into mirthful
ecstasies over the humor of “ The Grey-
son Letters .” But we suppose that Henry
Rogers himself would make no preten-
sions to the rank of a writer, or reasoner,
or humorist of the first class. Far from
being a great man , he occasionally slips
into the prejudices of quite a little one,
and he never wholly puts off the peda-
gogue and puts on the philosopher. With-
out much original force of nature, and
never unmistakably stamping his own im-
age and superscription either on his argu-
ments or his language, he is still a well-
trained theological scholar, a skilful logi-
cian, and one of that class of elegant
writers who neither offend the taste nor
kindle the soul. As a controversialist on
themes which are now engaging popular
attention, he grasps the questions he dis-
cusses at one or two removes from their
centre and heart, where they pass out
of the sphere of ideas and pass into the
region of opinions ; and in this region he
is candid to the extent of his perceptions,
quick to detect the weak points in the for-
mal statements of his opponents, and,
without touching the vitalities of the mat-
ter in controversy, is always hailed as
victor by those who agree with him , but
rarely convinces the doubters and deniers
he aims to convert. “ The Greyson Let-
ters” are evidently the work of an ami-
[ November,
able , learned, accomplished, and able man ,
interested in a wide variety of themes
which especially attract the attention of
thinkers, but in his treatment of them
indicating a lack of deep and wide experi
ence , and of that close , searching thought
which pierces to the core of a subject,
and broods patiently over its living ele
ments and relations, before it assumes to
take them as materials for argumentation .
This broad grasp of premises, which im
plies a penetrating and interpretative as
well as dialectic mind, is the distinguish
ing difference between a great reasoner
and an able logician . In regard to the
form of the work , we can see no reason
why its essays should be thrown into the
shape of letters. The epistolary spirit
vanishes almost as soon as “ Dear Sir "
and “Dear Madam ” create its expecta
tion . The author's mind is grave by
nature and culture , and is sprightly, as it
seems to us, by compulsion and laborious
levity. His nature has none of the rich
ness and juiciness, none of the instinctive
soul of humor, which must have vent in
the ludicrous. Occasionally an adversary
or adverse dogma is demolished with ex
cellent logic, and then comes a dismal
grin or chuckle at the feat, which hardly
reminds us of the sly, shy smile of Addi
son , or the frolic intelligence which laughs
in the victorious cyes of Pascal. Still,
with all abatements, “ The Greyson Let
ters ” make a book well worthy of being
read , contain much admirable matter and
suggestive thought, and might be allowed
to pass muster among good books of the
second class, did they not come before us
with professions that seemed to invite the
tests applicable to the first.
Essays in Biography and Criticism . By
PETER BAYNE, M. A., Author of “ The
Christian Life, Social and Individual, " )
& c . First Series. Boston : Gould &
Lincoln . 1 vol. 12mo.
TAIS volume contains essays on De
Quincey, Tennyson and his Teachers,
Mrs. Barrett Browning, Glimpses of Re
cent British Art, John Ruskin , Hugh
1857.] Literary Notices.
Miller, The Modern Novel, and Currer
Bell. Though of various degrees of merit,
they all evince careful study and patient
thought, and are written with considerable
brilliancy and eloquence. As a critic, Mr.
Bayne is generally candid, conscientious,
and intelligent, with occasional remarks
erincing delicacy and depth of thought ;
but his perceptions are not always trust-
worthy, and his judgments are frequently
of doubtful soundness. Thus when we
are told that Wordsworth owed his fame
to his moral elevation rather than to his
“ intellectual or æsthetic capacities,” and
that there is hardly an instance of the
highest creative imagination in the whole
range of his poetry ,—when we are in-
formed that since Shakspeare no one “ has
laid bare the burning heart of passion ” 80
perfectly as Byron , -- and when the ques-
66
tion is triumphantly asked, Where, out
of Shakspeare, can we find such a series
)
of female portraits as those ” in Bulwer's
“ Rienzi,” — We feel inclined, in this asso-
ciation of Byron and Bulwer with Shak-
speare, and this oversight of Wordsworth's
claim to represent the highest original
elements in the English poetry of the
present century , to dispute Mr. Bayne's
right to assume the chair of interpretative
criticism . But still there are so many ex-
amples in his book of fine and true per-
ception, and so evident a sympathy with
intellectual excellence and moral beauty,
that we do not feel disposed to quarrel
with him on account of the apparent er-
roneousness of some of his separate opin-
ions. Besides, his work is written in a
style which will recommend it to a class
of readers who are not especially inter-
ested in the subjects of which it treats,
and it cannot fail to stimulate in them a
desire to know more of the great writers
of the century .
IPhite Lies. A Novel. By CHARLES
Reade . Boston : Ticknor & Fields.
1 vol . 12mo.
The carly chapters of this novel lack
the brisk movement, the sparkling com
pactness, the stinging surprises of Mr.
Reade's usual style, but he kindles and
condenses as he proceeds. As a whole,
the work compares favorably with his
most brilliant compositions. He is a
writer difficult to criticize, because his
123
defects are pleasing defects. Dogmatism
is commonly offensive, and Mr. Reade's
dogmatism is of the most uncompromising,
not to say insulting character ; yet it is ex .
hibited in coi ctic with insight so sure
and vivid, that we pardon the positiveness
of the assertion for the truth of what is
asserted . Then he has a way of forcing
Nature, much against her wish, to be epi
grammatic , -of producing startling effects
by artifices almost theatrical ; and though
his devices are obvious, they are more than
forgiven for the genuine power and real nat
uralness behind the rhetorical masquerade.
Other men's freaks and eccentricities lead
to the distortion of truth and the confu
sion of relations, but Mr. Reade has freaks
of wisdom and eccentricities of practical
sagacity. Occasionally he has a stroke of
observation that comes like a flash of
lightning, blasting and shattering in an
instant a prejudice or hypocrisy which
was strong enough to resist all the argu
ments of reason and all the appeals of
humanity. “ White Lies" is full of ex
amples of his power, and of the peculiari
ties of his power. Blunt and bold and
arrogant as his earnestness often appears ,
it is capable of the most winning gentle
ness, the most delicate grace , and the most
searching pathos. The delineation of the
female characters in this novel is espe
cially admirable. Josephine and Laure
are exquisite creations, and the Baroness
and Jacintha, though different, are almost
as perfect, considered as examples of char
acterization . In the invention and man
agement of incidents, the author exhibits
a sure knowledge of the means and con
trivances by which expectation is stimu .
lated, and the interest of the story kept
from flagging. We hope to read many
more novels from the same pen as delight
ful as “ White Lies."
Brazil and the Brazilians. Portrayed in
Historical and Descriptive Sketches.
By Rev. D. P. KIDDER, D. D., and
Rev. J. C. FLETCHER. Illustrated by
one hundred and fifty Engravings.
Philadelphia :: Childs & Peterson . 1 vol.
8vo.
BRAZIL is a country but little known to
the majority of readers, and the little that
is known is so fragmentary that it is as
likely to convey a false idea as an incom
 124 Literary Notices.
plete one. The writers of this volume criticism for the jaunty audacity with
combine two qualifications for the work
of dissipating this ignorance. They have
a direct personal knowledge of Brazil,
gained during a long residence in the
country , and they have carefully studied
every valuable book on its history and
resources . The manners, customs, laws,
government, productions, literature , art,
and religion of the people have all been
carefully observed under circumstances
favorable for accurate investigation . The
result is a valuable , interesting, and at-
tractive volume , well worthy of being
extensively read. The elegance of its
mechanical execution , and the profusion
of engravings illustrating the text, will
add to its popularity , if not to its value.
The Poetical Works of Leigh Hunt. Now
first entirely collected . Revised by
himself, and edited, with an Introduc
tion , by S. ADAMS LEE. Boston : Tick .
nor & Fields. 2 vols. 18mo.
LEIGA Hurt has outlived all the enmi-
ties and enemies provoked either by his
merits or his demerits, and is especially
interesting as the sole survivor of the calamity. He is personally affronted when
illustrious company of poets with whom
the mind instinctively associates him .
Some burnt out; some died out; some
dried up ; but he remains the same cosey ,
chirping, fine-natured, and self-pleased
singer, who won the love of Shelley and
Keats, and roused the wrath of Gifford and
Wilson. We are glad to welcome his col-
lected poems in their appropriate attire of
“blue and gold , " and trust they will have
& wide circulation in the United States,
as the genial poet is himself to be a par-
ticipant in the profits of the publication.
We wish that a word of ours could be in
fluential in assisting this veteran of letters
to reap from the publication something
more substantial than fame, yet in some
degree the expression of it, --something
which shall give him assurance that his
volumes are on thousands of parlor tables,
because the proofs of it are palpable in the
increased comforts afforded to his old age.
And certainly the poet deserves a wide
circle of readers . Though he does not
succeed in the delineation of the great and
grand passions of our nature, he is very
successful in the sphere of its humane and
tender sentiments ; and though open to
[ November,
which he coins dainty sweetnesses of
expression rejected by all dictionaries,
and for an occasional pertness in asserting
opinions of doubtful truth , he is so lova
ble a creature that we pardon his literary
foibles as we would pardon the personal
foibles of a charming companion and
friend . He has a genuine love for all
cheerful and cheering things, and power
enough to infuse his cheer into other
minds. Disliking all internal and exter
nal foes to human comfort, he is equally
the enemy of evil, and of the morbid dis
content which springs from the bitter
contemplation of evil. His nature is
essentially sprightly and sensuous, with
here a bit of Suckling and there a bit of
Fletcher, carrying us back to an elder
period of British poetry by the careless
grace and freedom of his movement, and
proving his connection with the present
by the openness of his mind to all liberal
thoughtand
humor philanthropicare
and benerolence feeling. Good
so dominant
in his nature , that they prevent him from
having any deep perceptions of evil and
he sees the thunder-cloud push away the
sunshine from life ; and God, to him , is
not only absolute Good, but absolute Good
Nature.
It would be easy to quote passages from
these volumes illustrative of his acute ob
servation , his largeness of sympathy, his
delicacy and daintiness of touch, his sweet
ness, humor, pathos, and fancy. As a
specimen of the playful and beautiful in
genuity of his mind, we extract a portion
of his little poem on “ Love Letters made
of Flowers .”
“ An exquisite invention this,
Worthy of Love's most honeyed kiss,
This art of writing billets -doux
buds and odorsfeels
In saying bright hues !
In all one and andthinks
In clever daffodils and pinks ;
In puns of tulips ; and in phrases,
Charming for their truth , of daisies ;
Uttering, as well as silence may ,
The sweetest words the sweetest way .
How fit, too, for the lady's bosom !
The place where billets -dous repose ' em .
" What delight, in some sweet spot
Combining love with garden plot,
At once to cultivate one's flowers
1857.]
And one's epistolary powers !
Growing one's own choice words and fancies
In orange tubs and beds of pansies ;
One's sighs and passionate declarations
In odorous rhetoric of carnations ;
Seeing how far one's stocks will reach ;
Taking due care one's flowers of speech
MUSIC .
What will the Muses do in these hard
times ? Must they cease to hold court
in opera -house and concert-room , because
stocks fall, factories and banks stop, credit
is paralyzed, and princely fortunes vanish
away like bubbles on the swollen tide of
speculation ? Must Art, too, bear the mer-
chant's penalties ? or shall not rather this
ideal, feminine element of life, shall not
Art, like woman , warm and inspire a
sweeter, richer, more ideal, though it be a
humbler home for us , with all the tender-
er love and finer genius, now that man's
enterprise is wrecked abroad ? Shall we
have no Music ? Has the universal “ pan .
ic ” griped the singers' throats, that they
can no longer vibrate with the passion-
ate and perfect freedom indispensable to
melody ? It must not be. The soul is
too rich in resources to let all its inter-
ests fail because one fails. If business
and material speculation have been over-
done, if we are checked and Aung down in
these mad endeavors to accumulate vast
means of living, we shall bave time to
pick ourselves up, compose ourselves to
some tranquillity and some humility, and
actually, with what small means we have,
begin to live. Panic strangles life, and the
money -making fever always tends to paric.
Panic is the great evil now , and panic
needs a panacca . What better one can
we invent than music ? It were the very
madness of economy to cut off that. Some as we can that of music . Let us look
margin every life must have, around this
everlasting sameness of the dull page of
necessity , -- some opening into the free in-
finite of joy and careless ideality , or the
very life-springs dry up.
Music is a cheap luxury ; the more 80
as one seeks real music for its own sake,
and not the music which is imported like
the Paris fashions. This winter it will be
Music. 125
• To guard from blight as well as bathos,
And watering every day one's pathos !
From the exquisite little poem entitled
Songs of the Flowers" we should like
to cut a few stanzas ; but our limits for
bid .
a question between whether we can afford
to pay for it, and whether we can afford to
do without it. We think the absolute neces
sity of some diversion, something to lift the
leaden cloud, and keep us in a state of natu
ral buoyancy and courage, already settles
the question . Music we shall have, sim
ply because we need it. Or view it from
the opposite side, from the point of mere
political economy. Music, in many ways,
has built itself up into a great industry
among us, -music-publishers, musical in .
strument-makers, music teachers, musical
performers ,-all mutually dependent, and
together swelling the national industry to
the amount of many millions. It is the
opportunities of hearing music, it is the
concerts and the operas, that give the im
pulse to this whole many-branched ma
chine. Taken together, it feeds many
mouths, and helps turn many other very
different sort of mills, and plays its part
in Wall Street and in State Street, and
its notes in that sense enter as much into
the general currency as they do into the
general ear in another . Now which is
cheaper, which is wiser, to employ these
artists, and the crowds of workers whom
the public exercise of their talent keeps in
motion, or cast them off upon society to
be a general burden in a more hopeless
form ? Surely, we can afford the stoppage
of some banks and factories, quite as well
around, then, upon its prospects for the
winter .
While we write ( the first week in Octo
ber) the musical season, in what we take
to be the most music-loving of our cities,
Boston, has not commenced , or shaped
itself into much distinctness of plan. The
season is late ; hard times may make it
later ; yet shall “ the winter of our discon
126 Music. [November ,
tent be glorious summer ” ere long. Bos. About certain prima donnas, baritones, or
ton , for its best music,-best in artistic tenors , and about music chiefly made to
tendency, though not perhaps the most show off the singer, full of the common .
exciting or most fashionable ,-has always places that he loves to make “ effect ” in,
relied more than New York on its own -fanaticisms alternating with blasé indif
quiet, domestic resources. Our musical ference. But this would lead us into a
societies have been the centres of our mu- long discussion , and it is our wish here to
sical activity, and have more or less suc- avoid vexed questions. For the present
cessfully provided us with sterling oppor- we will avow no sides, of German or Ital.
tunities of making ourselves acquainted ian, “ light” or “ classical."
with the master compositions in the vari- The lovers of opera have something to
ous forms of Oratorio, Orchestra, Cham. look forward to in Boston ; what, we shall
ber Music, etc. , where the end has been see when we survey the field elsewhere.
more to get at the intrinsic worth and Our noble Boston theatre must needs be
beauty of the music, than to go into fash- one point in the triangular campaign of
ionable raptures about some new - come the three cities . And here we may al
singer or solo-playing virtuoso . Yet vir lude, en passant, to the prospect of one nor .
tuosodom and the Italian opera come in to elty that ought to interest our opera - lovers
reap an annual harvest here tov, and have who are weary of the usual hackneyed ré
and long will have their zealous party pertoire. Our townsman , Mr. L. H. South
of admirers. Were Opera an organized ard, the composer of “ The Scarlet Letter,"
home industry among us, as much as has also written an Italian opera , on an
other forms of music , -were there some Oriental subject, with the title “ Omano,”
meaning in the name “ Academy of Mu. the libretto by Signor Manetta, founded
sic ” worn by operatic theatres, it would on Beckford's “ Vathek ." A private or
be more useful to our artistic progress. subscription concert will soon give an op
But Italian Opera, as managed, and "star" portunity of hearing some of its scenas,
concerts generally, are no part of the quatuors, etc. To come back , then , to
healthy, permanent development of our what is more peculiarly Bostonian in the
own musical resources. They are specu- way of music,—what concerts shall we
lations; they attack us from without, ex- have ? Of large societies, the only one
ploiting a factitious enthusiasm , and ex- remaining now in operative force is the
hausting the soil in one short season , so oldest and the largest, the Hande' and
they may only carry off the present fat- Haydn Society. This set the right ex
ness of the land. Operas and virtuoso ample last May, in that splendid three
concerts are wholly in the hands of spec- days' Festival, of true domestic musical
ulators, musical Jew - brokers, who do a enterprise, organizing the whole thing on
formidable business in old clothes, the the basis of internal and domestic means,
worn -out musical celebrities of Europe ; with our own permanent nucleus of orches
-often with great skill , often much to our tra and chorus, and drawing from without
pleasure and advantage ; for it is much to such other talent, such solo singers, as
us to hear great artists , even when the were needed for the right interpretation
voice has lost some of its freshness , and of the noble music, and not merely for
to admire now what long ago perhaps ex- their own private exhibition and profit.
hausted admiration in the Old World . But This was genuine; this was wholesome;
the effect is bad on our domestic industry. and the success warrants the best hopes
We almost deed a musical protective sys- for another season. Carl Zerrahn, the
tem . Our good old society concerts have excellent conductor upon that occasion, is
been much thrown out of joint. Few of on his way home from Germany ( his old
them of late, as compared with former home ) with new stock of zeal and of new
years, have paid. The dazzling novelties, music, and the oratorio rehearsals will at
that come trumpeted with all the cunning once begin . It is event enough for one
speculators' arts, debauch us somewhat winter, the single fact that Handel's “ Is
from our wholesome, quiet love of pure , rael in Egypt, ” that mightiest oratorio,
high music for its own sake, and lead the which is one mountain range of sublime
public into little short-lived fanaticisms choruses, will be the chief subject of study.
1857.] Music.
It is proposed to give at leastfour Sunday
evening performances, consisting of “ The
Messiah, " of course, at Christmas ; Costa's
“ Eli , ” or “ Elijah " ; the “Requiem” of
« 2)
Mozart, and the “ Lobgesang ” by Mendels-
sohn ; and for the last, and we trust many
last, “ Israel in Egypt." All this will be
but so much rehearsal for the grander Fes-
tival to follow . We have no organized
orchestral or symphony society, as we
should have ; but we have with us always
the elements of a good orchestra, who al
ways work well together, and never bet-
ter than last year under the enterprise and
drill of Mr. Zerrahn . Then we had glo
rious symphonies and overtures, both old
and new ; and we shall have as good , and
still more brilliant concerts soon , if hard
times do not daunt the leader's very san-
guine purpose. As a pendant, too, to the
orchestral evenings, will come cheap after-
noon concerts in the Music Hall, where
good symphonies and overtures, with
sparkling varieties for younger tastes,
will hold out weekly invitation.
For the select few , who hold communion
in the love of classical quartet and trio
music by the great masters,-in the piano
poems Chopin , Mendelssohn, and Beet-
hoven, there will be abundant opportuni.
ties. The Mendelssohn Quintctte Club, the
German Trio, Mr. Satter, the pianist, and
would we might add Otto Dresel, will give
series of concerts in the pleasant Chicker-
ing Saloon , that holds two hundred . Alas !
we may be disappointed there . The Ma-
sonic Temple has been sold to the gov-
ernment for a United States Court- house.
Think of the musical associations that
haunt and consecrate the place, and think
of the uses to which it may soon be put!
What profanation ! Hitherto the only
chains that have surrounded that Temple
have been chains of harmony, which one
may wear and not be a slave ! It has been
a Temple of Concord ;-may we hope that
it will be in truth a Temple of Justice !-
For virtuoso concerts, we shall have what
the managers at New York send us. We
shall of course have Vieuxtemps and Thal-
berg , if no more .
In New York the campaign has been
opened for this month past, and we do not
yet hear that the troubles down in Wall
Street have discouraged the lessees of the ing and to conquer. Is “Il Trovatore ”
Academy of Music. Great is the array wanted, everlasting “ Trovatore,” - music
127
of singers and of players that revolve
around the little knot of musical specula
tors in New York . Strange to say, Italian
opera has German managers. They catch
the birds, having beforehand caught and
prepared the public. But it is as well to
state, that there are two great operatic
enterprises, as there are two rival musical
broker managers : to wit, Maretzek and
Ullman ; the former backed by Marshall
of the Philadelphia Academy, and pro
ceeding forth with hope to conquer from
that centre ; the latter backed by Thal
berg, and strengthened by the Strakosch
and Vestvali tributaries that roll proudly
in from scenes of conquest in the Western
States and Mexico . The Ullman party
hold the New York Academy;3 the other
party hold the theatres of Philadelphia
and Boston ; either must make itself felo
at the three points, to avoid a losing game.
Hence these harmonious and deadly rivals
have perforce entered into a league of
amity and commerce , whereby they ex
change singers, so that all shall in turn be
heard at every theatre. At New York the
company includes, for leading soprani,
Madame Lagrange, the wonder of the last
two years, greatest of vocal gymnasts, and
fine actress always, with voice well worn ,
and Madame Frezzolini, as the last im
ported celebrity from Europe ; her voice,
too, is past its prime, but her art is pro
nounced immaculate , and she is quite a
charmer, if we may trust the critics. For
contralto there is Vestvali, the dashing tall
one, who delights in man's clothes, and
sings Charles the Fifth , the baritone ( ! )
rôle in “ Ernani." There is a delicate
new tenor, Labocetta , and another named
Maccaferri, and a fresh , universally ad
mired baritone, Gassier ; and there is our
old buffo friend , Rocco, and many more .
Besides whom are two famous announce
ments, yet to come from Europe : the
French tenor, Roger, and the German
basso, Formes. The orchestra and chorus
are, wc suppose, as usual; the conductor
better ; he is Herr Anschütz, who has had
experience in London, and who subdues
his orchestra to sympathetic support of the
singers. With Max it is the other way ;
he loves to ride full swing upon the top of
his forces, brass and all, fortissimo, conquer
128 Music,
that whirls and fascinates, possessed and
driven by one fixed idea of burning at the
stake, with furies of love and jealousy to
match ,—they borrow from the other com-
pany ( under the " amicable ” treaty ) Bri- ter how familiar, hackneyed, sentimental,
gnoli, of the golden tenor voice, who sings
80 sweetly and sulks so proudly lazy, and
Amodio, that ton of juvenile humanity ,
whose weighty baritone and eagerness to
please make up for the see-saw alternation
of his two only expressions and gesticula-
tions, —those of vulgar love-making and
mock -heroical revenge. These, with Gaz-
zaniga, the charming, lively , natural Gaz-
zaniga, whose voice is fresh , and who can
sing and act so charmingly in genial music,
such as Donizetti's “ Elisir d'Amore ,”
with also Assoni, the buffo, and Coletti,
the bass, compose the year-old and tried
nucleus of the Philadelphia opera , which fortnight's suspension of the Opera in
opened the first Monday in October. To New York, to allow time for the prepara
these are added new attractions, in the
shape of old celebrities from Europe :
namely , Ronconi, the great Don Giovanni
of the London opera ; Tagliafico, the bas-
80 ; Stecchi-Bottardi, tenor from Her Ma-
jesty's ; Signora Ramos, prima donna from
Turin ; Signora Tagliafico ; and greatest
of all, to come when he has got through
with the Russians, the famous tenor, performed in a masterly manner. Indeed,
Tamberlik .
Here is a great array, and great ex-
))
pense . Verily, it rains “ stars," as it rains
meteors in our cold November nights. Per-
haps it will pay , -perhaps not. But for the
interests of Art, and the true gratification
and advancement of the taste for music,
one might ask whether a better economy
of means would not have dictated fewer
“ stars,” and more completeness in the
orchestra, the chorus, and the general
ensemble, so that we might for once hear
and enjoy an opera, and not merely a few
singers lifted up on the cheapest platform
of an opera, loosely nailed together for
their sakes. And this question leads to
another consideration of still more impor.
tance to the real interests of Art. What
music, what operas shall we hear ? So
far, it has been the same old story , the
same backneyed round of “ Norma, ” and
“ Lucia ,” and “ Lucrezia Borgia ,” and “Er.
(6
nani,” and “ Trovatore," and so on , with
once or twice the ever genial and spark-
ling “Il Barbiere .” The whole attraction
lies (as always in these great musical
[November
speculations) in the solo singers. These
ever place themselves between you and
good music ; they choose to sing the mu
sic that best shows their powers, no mat
commonplace, and trashy. If you call for
“ William Tell , ” for the “ Nozzi di Fi.
garo , " to say nothing of “ Fidelio," or
" Oberon ,” or “ Freischütz,” they have
not the organization for it, have not the
chorus, the secondary singers, the artists
who know and love the music ; it will
not pay, and so forth . Our Academies
must justify their name and be domestic
institutions, permanent lyric organizations,
before we can call in singers to illustrate
an opera , instead of worn -out operas to il
lustrate the singer.
Since penning the above, we hear of a
tion of the “ Nozzi di Figaro , ” “ Robert le
Diable,” “ Les Huguenots , ” &c.
In close connection with the opera , the
brilliant concerts of Vieuxtemps and Thal
berg go on . Probably there is nothing
better of the virtuoso kind ; and as they
bring in the orchestra sometimes, they give
occasionally something classical and great,
all the music of New York seems to re
volve now round the Ullman -Thalberg
centre. They sweep all into their orbit.
With the Harmonic Society , they give
Sunday oratorios, promising “ The Meg .
siah ,” “ Creation ,” “ Elijah , ” David's
“ Desert,” ( ! ) and others.
We have not left ourselves room to
more than hint at the truest musical pride
of New York, her Philharmonic Society,
whose orchestra now numbers eighty ex .
cellent performers, and whose list of regu
lar subscribers reaches eighteen hundred.
They are rehearsing Spohr's symphony,
“ Die Weihe der Töne,” with Schumann's
" Manfred ” overture, and Beethoven's sub
lime “ Leonora , ” for their first concert, and
will do much for classical music by their
four concerts. In Boston, in spite of our
broken and disorganized condition, we
have ten or a dozen Symphony concerts
in a winter. Chamber Quartets, too, and
Trios with Piano, will have their audi.
ences , -let us hope numerous enough to
gladden the hearts of the artists.
 THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL . I. — DECEMBER, 1857.—NO. II.

FLORENTINE MOSAICS.

[ Concluded. )
VI. Angelico could possibly have. Certainly,
the courage and accuracy exhibited in
THE CARJINE. the nude forms of Adam and Eve ex
THE only part of this ancient church pelled from paradise, and the expressive
which escaped destruction by fire in 1771 grace in the group of Saint Paul con
was, most fortunately, the famous Bran- versing with Saint Peter in prison, where
cacci chapcl. Here are the frescos by so much knowledge and power of action
Masolino da Panicale, who died in the are combined with so much beauty, all
early part of the fifteenth century,—the show an immense advance over the best
Preaching of SaintPeter, and the Ileal- works of the preceding three quarters of
ing of the Sick. His scholar, Masaccio, a century.
(1402–1443,) continued the series, the Besides the great intrinsic merits of
completion of which was entrusted to these paintings, the Brancacci chapel
Filippino Lippi, son of Fra Filippo. is especially interesting from the direct
No one can doubt that the hearty and unquestionable effect which it is
deternination evinced by Masolino and known to have had upon younger pain
Masaccio to deal with actual life, to grap- ters. Here Raphael and Michel Angelo,
ple to their souls the visible forms of in their youth , and Benvenuto Cellini
humanity , and to reproduce the types passed many hours, copying and recopy
afterwards in new, vivid, breathing com- ing what were then the first masterpieces
binations of dignity and intelligent action of painting, the traces of which study are
must have had an immense effect upon distinctly visible in their later produc
the course of Art. To judge by the few tions; and here, too , according to Cel
and somewhat injured specimens of these lini, the famous punch in the nose be
masters which are accessible, it is obvious fell Buonarotti, by which his well-known
that they had much more to do in forn- physiognomy acquired its marked pecul
ing the great schools of the fifteenth and iarity. Torregiani, painter and sculptor
sixteenth centuries, than a painter of such of secondary importance, but a buly of
delicate, but limited genius as that of Fra the first class,-a man who was in the
VOL . I. 9
130 Florentine Mosaics. [ December
habit of knocking about the artists whom are, however, very visible, even in the
he could not equal, and of breaking both darkness. No painter of his century
their models and their heads,—had been approached him in animated grouping
accustomed to copy in the Brancacci and powerful physiognomizing. Digni
chapel, among the rest. He had been fied, noble, powerful, and natural, he is
much annoyed, according to his own the exact counterpart of Fra Angelico,
account, by Michel Angelo's habit of among the Quattrocentisti. Two great,
laughing at the efforts of artists inferior distinct systems,—the shallow , shrinking,
in skill to himself, and bad determined to timid, but rapturously devotional, piously
punish him . One day, Buonarotti came sentimental school, of which Beato An
into the chapel as usual, and whistled and gelico was facile princeps, painfully ad
sncered at a copy which Torregiani was venturing out of the close atmosphere
making. The aggrieved artist, a man of of the miniatori into the broader light
large proportions, very truculent ofaspect, and more gairish colors of the actual, and
with a loud voice and a savage frown, falling back , hesitating and distrustful;
sprang upon his critic, and dealt him such and the hardy, healthy, audacious natu
a blow upon the nose, that the bone and ralists, wreaking strong and warm hu
cartilage yielded under his hand, accord- man emotions upon vigorous expression
ing to his own account, as if they had and confident attitude ;—these two wide
been made of dough, — " come se fosse ly separated streams of Art, remote from
stato un cialdone. "This was when each other in origin, and fed by various
both were very young men ; but Torregi- rills, in their course through the century,
ani, when relating the story many years were to meet in one ocean at its close.
afterwards, always congratulated himself This was then the fulness of perfection,
that Buonarotti would bear the mark of the age of Angelo and Raphael, Leo
the blow all his life. It may be added, nardo and Correggio.
that the bully met a hard fate afterwards.
Having executed a statue in Spain for a VIII.
grandee, he was very much outraged by
SAN MARCU .
receiving only thirty scudi as his reward ,
and accordingly smashed the statue to Fra Beato Angelico, who was a broth
pieces with a sledge-hammer. In revenge, er of this Dominican house, has filled
the Spaniard accused him of heresy, so nearly the whole monastery with the
that the unlucky artist was condemned to works of his hand. Considering the date
the flames by the Inquisition, and only of his birth, 1387 , and his conventual life,
escaped that horrible death by starving he was hardly less wonderful than his
himself in prison before the execution. wonderful epoch. Here is the same con
vent, the same city ; while instead mere
VII. ly of the works of Cimabue, Giotto, and
Orgagna, there are masterpieces by all
SANTA TRINITÀ. the painters who ever lived to study ;
In the chapel of the Sassetti, in this yet imagine the snuffy old monk who will
church, is a good set of frescos by Dom- show you about the edifice, or any of his
inic Ghirlandaio , representing passages brethren, coming out with a series of
from the life of Saint Francis. They are masterpieces ! One might as well expect
not so masterly as his compositions in the a new Savonarola, who was likewise a
Santa Maria Novella . Moreover, they friar in this establishment, to preach
are badly placed, badly lighted , and badly against Pio Nono, and to get himself
injured. They are in a northwestern burned in the Piazza for his pains.
corner, where light never comes that In the old chapter-house is a very
comes to all. The dramatic power and large, and for the angelic Frater a very
Flemish skill in portraiture of the man , Crucifixion .
hazardous performance -a
1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 131

The heads here are full of feeling and might have prevented his organizing
feebleness, except those of Mary Mother that famous holocaust of paintings, that
and Mary Magdalen, which are both very wretched iconoclasm , by which he sig.
touching and tender. There is, however, nalized his brief period of popularity
an absolute impotence to reproduce the and power. In weighing, gauging, and
actual, to deal with groups of humanity measuring such a man , one ought to
upon a liberal scale. There is his usual remember, that if he could have had his
want of discrimination , too, in physiog- way and carried out all his schemes, he
Dupy ; for if the seraphic and intellect would have abolished Borgianism cer
ual head of the penitent thief were trans tainly, and perhaps the papacy, but that
ferred to the shoulders of the Saviour he would have substituted the rbapsodical
in exchange for his own, no one could reign of a single demagogue, perpetually
dispute that it would be an improve- seeing visions and dreaming dreams for
ment. the direction of his fellow -citizens, who
Up stairs is a very sweet Annunciation . were all to be governed by the hallucina
The subdued , demure, somewhat aston- tions of this puritan Mahomet.
ished joy of the Virgin is poetically
rendered, both in face and attitude, and IX .
the figure of the angel has much grace.
THE MEDICI CHAPEL.
A small, but beautiful composition, the
Coronation of the Virgin, is perhaps the The famous cemetery of the Medici,
most impressive of the whole series. the Sagrestia Nuova, is a ponderous and
Below is a series of frescos by a very dismal toy. It is a huge mass of expen
second-rate artist, Poccetti. Among them sive, solemn, and insipid magnificence,
19 a portrait of Savonarola ; but as the erected over the carcasses of as contemp
reformer was burned half a century be- tible a family as ever rioted above the
fore Poccetti was born, it has not even earth, or rotted under it. The only man
the merit of authenticity. It was from of the race, Cosmo il Vecchio, who de
this house that Savonarola was taken serves any healthy admiration, although
to be imprisoned and executed in 1498. he was the real assassin of Florentine
There seems something unsatisfactory and Italian freedom , and has thus earned
about Savonarola. One naturally sym the nickname of Pater Patriæ , is not
pathizes with the bold denouncer of buried here. The series of mighty dead
Alexander VI.; but there was a lack of begins with the infamous Cosmo, first
benevolence in his head and his heart. grand duke, the contemporary of Philip
Without that anterior depression of the II. of Spain , and his counterpart in char
sinciput, he could bardly have permitted acter and crime. Then there is Ferdi
two friends to walk into the fire in his nando I., whose most signal achievement
stead , as they were about to do in the was not eating the poisoned pic prepared
stupendous and horrible farce enacted in by the fair hands of Bianca Capello.
the Piazza Gran Duca. There was no There are other Ferdinandos, and other
lack of self-esteem either in the man or Cosmos,-all grand-ducal and pater-pa
his head. Without it, he would scarcely trial, as Medici should be.
have thought so highly of his rather The chapel is a vast lump of Floren
washy scheme for reorganizing the demo- tine mosaic, octagonal, a hundred feet or
cratic government, and so very humbly so in diameter, and about twice as high
of the genius of Dante, Petrarch, and The cupola has some brand-new frescos,
others, whose works he condemned to the by Benvenuto . “ Anthropophagi, whose
flames. A fraternal regard, too, for such heads do grow beneath their shoulders ,"
great artists as Fra Angelico and Fra may enjoy these pictures upon domes.
Bartolomeo , -both members of his own For common mortals it is not agreeable
convent, and the latter a personal friend, to remain very long upside down, even
132 Florentine Mosaics. [ December,
to contemplate masterpieces, which these Catharine ? Certainly the mind at once
oertainly are not dethrones him from his supremacy upon
The walls of the chapel are all in- his own tomb, and substitutes an Epam
crusted with gorgeous marbles and pre- inondas, a Cromwell, a Washington,
cious stones, from malachite, porphyry, what it wills. ' Tis a godlike apparition ,
lapis-lazuli, chalcedony, agate, to all the and need be called by no mortal name.
finer and more expensive gems which We feel unwilling to invade the repose
shone in Aaron's ephod. When one con- of that majestic reverie by vulgar invo
siders that an ear-ring or a brooch, half cation . The hero, nameless as he must
an inch long, of Florentine mosaic work, ever remain, sits there in no questionabie
costs five or six dollars, and that here is shape, nor can we penetrate the sanctuary
a great church of the same material and of that marble soul. Till we can sum
workmanship as a breastpin, one may mon Michel, with his chisel, to add the
imagine it to have been somewhat ex- finishing strokes to the grave, silent face
pensive. of the naked figure reclining below the
The Sagrestia Nuova was built by tomb, or to supply the lacking left hand
Michel Angelo, to hold his monuments to to the colossal form of female beauty sit
Lorenzo de' Medici, duke of Urbino, and ting upon the opposite sepulchre, we
grandson of Lorenzo the Magnificent must continue to burst in ignorance.
and to Julian de' Medici, son of Lorenzo Sooner shall the ponderous marble jaws
Magnifico. of the tomb open, that Lorenzo may
It is not edifying to think of the crea- come forth to claim his right to the trophy,
tive soul and plastic hands of Buonarotti than any admirer of human genius will
employed in rendering worship to such doubt that the shade of some real hero
creatures. This Lorenzo is chicfly known was present to the mind's eye of the
as having married Madeleine de Bou- sculptor, when he tore these stately forms
logne, and as having died , as well as his out of the enclosing rock .
wife, of aa nameless disorder, immediately A colossal hero sits, serene and solemn,
after they had engendered the renowned upon a sepulchre. Beneath him recline
Catharine de' Medici, whose hideous life two vast mourning figures, one of each
was worthy of its corrupt and poisoned sex . One longs to challenge converse
source . with the male figure, with the unfinished
Did Michel Angelo look upon his sub- Sphinx-like face, who is stretched there
ject as a purely imaginary one ? Surely at his harmonious length, like an ancient
he must have had some definite form river -god without his urn. There is
before his mental vision ; for although nothing appalling or chilling in his ex
sculpture cannot, like painting, tell an pression, nor does he seem to mourn
elaborate story, still each figure must without hope. ' Tis a stately recumbent
have a moral and a meaning, must show figure, of wonderful anatomy, without
cause for its existence, and indicate a any exaggeration of muscle, and, accord
possible function , or the mind of the ingly, his name is - Twilight!
spectator is left empty and craving. Why Twilight should grieve at the
Here, at the tomb of Lorenzo, are tomb of Lorenzo, grandson of Lorenzo
three masterly figures. An heroic, mar- Magnifico, any more than the granit
tial, deeply contemplative figure sits in father would have done, does not seein
grand repose. A statesman, a sage, a very clear, even to Twilight himself, who
patriot, a warrior, with countenance im- seems, after all, in a very crepuscular
mersed in solemn thought, and head sup- state upon the subject. The mistiness is
ported and partly hidden by his band, much aided by the glimmering expres
is brooding over great recollections and sion of his half-finished features.
mighty deeds. Was this Lorenzo, the But if Twilight should be pensive at
husband of Madeleine, the father of the demise of Lorenzo, is there any
1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 133

reason why Aurora should weep outright the figures should arise and walk across
upon the same occasion ? This Aurora, the chapel, changing places with the
however, weeping and stately, all noble- couple opposite them , as if in a sepul
ness and all tears, is a magnificent crea- chral quadrille, would the allegory be
tion, fashioned with the audacious accu- come more intelligible ? Could not Day
racy which has been granted to few mod- or Night move from Julian's monumenty
ern sculptors. The figure and face are and take up the same position at Loren
most beautiful, and rise above all puny zo's tomb, or 66Ninny's tomb, " or any
criticism ; and as one looks upon that other tomb ? Was Lorenzo any more
subliine and wailing form , that noble and to Aurora than Julian, that she should
nameless child of a divine genius, the weep for him only ?
flippant question dies on the lip, and we Therefore one must invent for one's
seek not to disturb that passionate and self the fable of those immortal groups.
beautiful image of woman's grief by idle Each spectator must pluck out, unaided,
curiosity or useless speculation. the heart of their mystery . Those
The monument, upon the opposite matchless colossal forms, which the fool
side, to Julian, third son of Lorenzo ish chroniclers of the time bave baptized
Magnifico, is of very much the same Night and Morning, speak an unknown
character. Here are also two mourning language to the crowd. They are mute
figures. One is a sleeping and wonder- as Sphinx to souls which cannot supply
fully beautiful female shape, colossal, in the music and the poetry which fell from
a position less adapted to repose than to their marble lips upon the ear of him whe
the display of the sculptor's power and created them .
her own perfections. This is Night. A
stupendously sculptured male figure, in a X.
reclining attitude, and exhibiting, I sup
PALAZZO RICCARDI.
pose , as much learning in his torso as
does the famous figure in the Elgin mar- The ancient residence of Cosmo Veo
bles, strikes one as the most triumphant chio and his successors is a magnificent
statue of modern times. example of that vast and terrible archi
The figure of Julian is not agreeable. tecture peculiar to Florence. This has
The neck, long and twisted, suggests an always been a city, not of streets, but of
heroic ostrich in a Roman breastplate. fortresses. Each block is one house, but
The attitude, too, is ungraceful. The a house of the size of a citadel ; while the
bero sits with his knees projecting be- corridors and apartments are like case
yond the perpendicular, so that his legs mates and bastions, so gloomy and savage
seem to be doubling under him,-a posi- is their expression. Ancient Florence,
Lion deficient in grace and dignity. the city of the twelfth and beginning of
It is superfluous to say that the spec- the thirteenth centuries, the Florence of
tator must invent for himself the allegory the nobles, the Florence of the Ghibel
which he may choose to see embodied lines, the Florence in which nearly every
in this stony trio. It is not enough to be house was a castle, with frowning tow
told the words of the charade, Julian, ers hundreds of feet high, machicolated
Night, Morning. One can never spell battlements, donjon keeps, oubliettes,
out the meaning by putting together the and all other appurtenances of a feudal
group with the aid of such a key. Night stronghold, exists no longer. With the
is Night, obviously, because she is asleep. expulsion of the imperial faction, and
For an equally profound reason , Day is the advent of the municipal Guelphs ,
Day, because he is not asleep; and both , that proudest, boldest, most successful,
looked at in this vulgar light, are crea- and most unreasonable bourgeoisie which
tions as imaginative as Simon Snug, with ever assumed organized life, —the nobles
his lantern, representing moonshine. If were curtailed of all their privileges.
131 Florentine Mosaics . [December,
Their city castles, too, were shorn of of buccaneer, land-pirate, knighterrant
their towers, which were limited to just could not be conveniently united with
80 many ells, cloth measure, by the those of banker, exchange broker, dealer
haughty shopkeepers who had displaced in dry goods, and
an general commission
the grandees. The first third of the agents.
thirteenth century - the epoch of the The consequence was that the fighting
memorable Buondelmonti street fight business became a specialty, and fell into
which lasted thirty years — was the pe- the hands of private companies. Flor
riod in which this dreadful architecture ence, like Venice, and other Italian re
was fixed upon Florence. Then was the publics, jobbed her wars. The work
time in which the chains, fastened in was done by the Hawkwoods, the Sfor
those huge rings which still dangle from zas, the Bracciones, and other chiefs of
the grim house -fronts, were stretched the celebrated free companies, black
across the street; thus enclosing and bands, lance societies, who understood
fettering a compact mass of combatants no other profession, but who were as ac
in an iron embrace, while from the rare complished in the arts of their own guild
and narrow murder-windows in the walls, as were any of the five major and seven
and from the beetling roofs, descended minor crafts into which the Florentine
the hail of iron and stone and scalding burgesses were divided .
pitch and red -hot coals to refresh the This proved a bad thing for the lib
struggling throng below . erties of Florence in the end . The
After this epoch, and with the expira- chieftains of these military clubs, usual
tion of the imperial house of the Hohen- ly from the lowest ranks, with no capac
staufen, the nobles here, as in Switzer- ity but for bloodshed, and no revenue
land, sought to popularize themselves, to but rapine, often ended their career by
become municipal. obtaining the seigniory of some petty re
public, a small town, or a bandful of
Der Adel steigt von seinen alten Burgen,
Und schwört den Städten seinenBürger-Eid, hamlets, whose liberty they crushed with
their own iron, and with the gold ob
said the prophetic old Attinghausen, in tained, in exchange for their blood, from
his dying moments. The change was the city bankers. In the course of time
even more extraordinary in Florence. such seigniories often rolled together,
The expulsion of some of the patrician and assumed a menacing shape to all
families was absolute. Others were al- who valued municipal liberty. Sforza
lowed to participate with the plebeians —whose peasant father threw his axe
in the struggle for civic honors, and for
into a trec, resolving, if it fell, to join,
the wealth earned in commerce, manu- as a common soldier, the roving band
factures, and handicraft. It became a which had just invited him ; if it adhered
severe and not uncommon punishment to the wood, to remain at home aa labor
to degrade offending individuals or fam- ing hind — becomes Duke of Milan, and
ilies into the ranks of nobility, and thus is encouraged in his usurpation by Cos
deprive them of their civil rights. Hun- mo Vecchio, who still gives himself the
dreds of low - born persons have, in a sin- airs of first -citizen of Florence.
gle day, been declared noble, and thus The serpent, the well-known cogni
disfranchised. And the example of Flor- zance of the Visconti, had already coil
ence was often followed by other cities. ed itself around all those fair and clus
The result was twofold upon the ar- tering cities which were once the Lom
istocracy. Those who municipalized bard republics, and had poisoned their
themselves became more enlightened, vigorous life. The Ezzelinos, Carraras,
more lettered , more refined, and, at the Gonzagas, Scalas, had crushed the spirit
mame time, less chivalrous and less mar- of liberty in the neighborhood of Ven
Hal than their ancestors. The characters ice. All this had been accomplished by
1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 135

means of mercenary adventurers, guid- of kings, " the horses led, and grooms
ed only by the love of plunder ; while besmeared with gold,” — all the theatri
those two luxurious and stately repub- cal paraphernalia and plebeian tinsel
lics — the one an oligarchy, the other a “ which dazzle the crowd and set them
democracy - looked on from their marble all agape " ; but his expenditures were
palaces, enjoying the refreshing blood- those of an intellectual and accomplished
showers in which their own golden har. oligarch. He was worthy, in many re
vests were so rapidly ripening. spects, to be the chief of those haughty
Meanwhile a gigantic despotism was merchants and manufacturers, who wield
maturing, which was eventually to crush ed more power, through the length of
the power, glory, wealth, and freedom of their purses and the cultivation of their
Italy. brains, than did all the contemporaneous
This palazzo of Cosmo the Elder is a and illiterate barons of the rest of Chris
good type of Florentine architecture at tendom , by dint of castle-storming and
its ultimate epoch, just as Cosmo himself cattle-stealing.
was the largest expression of the Flor- In an age when other nobles were
own
entine citizen in the last and over-ripe proud of being unable to write theirothers
stage. names, or to read them when
The Medici family, unheard of in the wrote them , the great princes and citi
thirteenth century, obscure and plebeian zens of Florence protected and culti
in the middle of the fourteenth , and vated art, science, and letters. Every
wealthy bankers and leaders of the citizen received a liberal education.
democratic party at its close, culminated Poets and philosophers sat in the coun
in the early part of the fifteenth in the cils of the republic. Philosophy, meta
person of Cosmo. The Pater Patriæ , - physics, and the restoration of ancient
so called, because, having at last absorbed learning occupied the minds and dimin
all the authority, he could afford to affect ished the revenues of its greater and
some of the benignity of a parent, and inferior burghers. In this respect, the
to treat his fellow -citizens, not as men, Medici, and their abetters of the fifteenth
but as little children ,—the Father of his century, discharged a portion of the
Country had acquired, by means of his debt which they had incurred to human
great fortune and large financial connec- ity. They robbed Italy of her freedom ,
tions, an immense control over the des- but they gave her back the philosophy
tinies of Florence and Italy. But be of Plato . They reduced the generality
was still a private citizen in externals. of Florentine citizens, who were once
There was, at least, elevation of taste, omnipotent, to a nullity ; but they had at
refinement of sentiment in Cosmo's con- least the sense to cherish Donatello and
ception of a great citizen. His habits of Ghiberti, Brunelleschi and Gozzoli, Fi
life were elegant, but frugal. He built cino and Politian .
churches, palaces, villas. He employed It is singular, too, with what compara
all the great architects of the age. He tively small means the Medici were en
adorned these edifices with masterpieces abled to do such great things. Cosmo,
from the pencils and chisels of the won- unquestionably the greatest and most suc
derfil Quattrocentisti, whose produc- cessful citizen that ever lived,-for he
tions alone would have given Florence almost rivalled Pericles in position, if not
an immortal name in Art history. Yet in talent, while he surpassed him in good
he preserved a perfect simplicity of equi- fortune, -was, during his lifetime, the
page and apparel. In this regard, faith- virtual sovereign of the most enlightened
ful to the traditions of the republic, which and wealthy and powerful republic that
his family had really changed from a had existed in modern times. He built
democracy to a ploutarchy, he had the the church of San Marco, the church of
good taste to scorn the vulgar pomp San Lorenzo, the cloister of San Verdi
136 Florentine Mosaics. [ December,
ano. On the hill of Fiesole he erected which has preserved these beautiful paint
a church and a convent. At Jerusa- ings so fresh, four centuries long, has
lem he built a church and a hospital unfortunately always prevented their
for pilgrims. All this was for religion , being scen to any advantage. The ab
the republic, and the world. For himself sence of light, which has kept the colors
he constructed four splendid villas, at from fading, is most provoking, when
Careggi, Fiesole, Caffaggiolo, and Treb- one wishes to admire the works of a great
bio, and in the city the magnificent pal- master, whose productions are so rare.
ace in the Via Larga, now called the Gozzoli, who lived and worked through
Riccardi. the middle of the fifteenth century , is
In thirty -seven years, from 1434 to chiefly known by his large and graceful
1471 , he and his successors expended compositions in the Pisan Campo Santo.
eight millions of francs (663,755 gold flo- These masterpieces are fast crumbling
rins) in buildings and charities,-a– sum into mildewed rubbish. Ile bad as much
which may be represented by as many, vigor and audacity as Ghirlandaio, with
or, as some would reckon , twice as many , more grace and freshness of invention .
dollars at the present day. Nevertheless, He has, however, nothing of his dramatic
the income of Cosmo was never more power. His genius is rather idyllic and
than 600,000 francs, (50,000 gold florins,) romantic. Although some of the fig..
while his fortune was never thought to ures in these Medici palace frescos are
exceed three millions of francs, or six thought to be family portraits, still they
hundred thousand dollars. Being invest- hardly seem very lifelike. The subjects
ed in commerce, his property yielded, selected are a Nativity, and an Adora
and ought to have yielded, an income tion of the Magi. In the neighborhood
of twenty per cent. Nevertheless, an in- of the window is a choir of angels singing
ventory made in 1469 showed, that, after Hosanna, full of freshness and vernal
twenty -nine years, he left to his son Pie- grace. The long procession of kings rid
tro a fortune but just about equal in ing to pay their homage, “ with tedious
amount to that which he had himself pomp and rich retinue long," has given
received from his father. the artist an opportunity of exhibiting
With six hundred thousand dollars for more power in perspective and fore
his whole capital, then, Cosmo was able shortening than one could expect at that
to play his magnificent part in the world's epoch. There are mules and horses,
history ; while the Duke of Milan, son of caparisoned and bedizened ; some led
the peasant Sforza, sometimes expended by grinning blackamoors, others ridden
more than that sum in a single year. So by showy kings, effulgent in brocade,
much difference was there between the glittering spurs, and gleaming cuirasses.
position and requirements of an educated Here are horsemen travelling straight
and opulent first-citizen, and aa low -born towards the spectator ,—there, a group, in
military parvenu, whom, however, Cosmo an exactly opposite direction, is forcing
was most earnest to enconrage and to its way into the picture,—while henters
strengthen in his designs against the with bound and horn are pursuing the
liberties of Lombardy. stag on the neighboring hills, and idle
This Riccardi palace, as Cosmo ob- spectators stand around, gaping and daz
served after his poor son Peter had zled ; all drawn with a free and accurate
become bed-ridden with the gout, was a pencil, and colored with niuch brillian
marvellously large mansion for so small a cy - a triumphant and masterly compo
family as one old man and one cripple. sition, hidden in a dark corner of what
It is chiefly interesting, now, for the fres- has now become a great dusty building,
cos with which Benozzo Gozzoli has filled with public offices.
adorned the chapel. The same cause
 1857.] Florentine Mosaics. 137

XI. still fixed and firm as the everlasting hills,

in their parallelopipedal layers, attest the
FIESOLE. grandeur of the ancient city. Here are
Here sits on her hill the weird old walls built, probably, before the founda
Etrurian nurse of Florence , withered , tion of Rome, and yet steadfast as the
superannuated, feeble, warning her pal- Apennines.. There are also aa broken
sied limbs in the sun , and looking ring or two of an amphitheatre; for the
vacantly down upon the beautiful child Etrurians preceded and instructed the
whose cradle she rocked. Fiesole is per- Romans in gladiatorial shows. It is sug
haps the oldest Italian city. The inbab- gestive to seat one's self upon these solid
itants of middle and lower Italy were granite seats, where twenty -five hundred
Pelasgians by origin, like the earlier races years ago some grave Etrurian citizen ,
of Greece. The Etrurians were an abo- wrapped in his mantle of Tyrrhenian
riginal stock ,—that is to say, as far as purple, his straight-nosed wife at his side,
anything can be definitely stated regard- with serpent bracelet and enamelled
ing their original establishment in the brooch, and a hopeful family clustering
peninsula; for they, too, doubtless came, playfully at their knees, looked placidly
at some remote epoch, from beyond the on, while slaves were baiting and butch
Altai mountains. ering each other in the arena below.
In their arts they seem to have been The Duomo is an edifice of the
original,—at least, until at a later period Romanesque period, and contains some
they began to imitate the culture of masterpieces by Mino da Fiesole. On a
Greece. They were the only ancient fine day, however, the church is too dis
Italian people who had the art-capacity ; mal, and the scene outside too glowing
and they supplied the wants of royal and golden, to permit any compromise
Rome, just as Greece afterwards supplied between nature and Mino. The view
the republic and the empire with the far from the Franciscan convent upon the
more elevated creations of her plastic brow of the hill, site of the ancient acrop
genius. olis, is on the whole the very best which
The great works undertaken by the can be obtained of Florence and the Val
Tarquins, if there ever were Tarquins, d'Arno. All the verdurous,gently roll
were in the hands of Etrurian architects ing hills which are heaped about Firenze
and sculptors. The admirable system la bella are visible at once. There ,
of subterranean drainage in Rome, by stretched languidly upon those piles of
which the swampy hollows among the velvet cushions, reposes the luxurious,
seven hills were converted into stately jewelled, tiara -crowned city, like Cleo
streets, and the stupendous cloaca max- patra on her couch. Nothing, save an
ima, the buried arches of which have sus- Oriental or Italian city on the sea -coast,
tained for more than two thousand years, can present a more beautiful picture.
without flinching, the weight of superin- The hills are tossed about so softly, the
cumbent Rome, were Etrurian perform- sunshine comes down in its golden shower
ances, commenced six centuries before so voluptuously, the yellow Arno moves
Christ. along its channel so noiselessly, the chains
It would appear that this people had of villages, villas, convents, and palaces
rather a tendency to the useful, than to are strung together with such a profuse
the beautiful. Unable to assimilate the and careless grace, wreathing themselves
elements of beauty and grace furnished from hill to hill, and around every coigne
by more genial races, this mystic and of vantage, the forests of olive and the
vanished nation was rather prone to the festoons of vine are so poetical and sug
stupendously and minutely practical, than gestive, that we wondernot that civilized
devoted to the beautiful for its own sake . man has found this an attractive abodo
At Fiesole, the vast Cyclopean walls, for twenty -five centuries.
 138 The Battle of Lepanto. [ December,
Florence is stone dead. ' Tis but a Looking at Florence from the hill-top,
polished tortoise-shell, of which the living one is more impressed than ever with the
inhabitant has long since crumbled to appropriateness of its name. The City
dust ; but it still gleams in the sun with of Flowers is itself a flower, and, as you
wondrous radiance. gaze upon it from a height, you see how
Just at your feet, as you stand on it opens from its calyx. The many
the convent terrace, is the Villa Mozzi, bright villages, gay gardens, palaces, and
where, not long ago, were found buried convents which encircle the city, are not
jars of Roman coins of the republican to be regarded separately , but as one
era, hidden there by Catiline, at the ep- whole. The germ and heart of Flor
och of his memorable conspiracy . Upon ence, the compressed and half hidden
the same spot was the favorite residence Piazza, with its dome, campanile, and
of Lorenzo Magnifico ; concerning whose long, slender towers, shooting forth like
probable ponderings, as he sat upon his the stamens and pistils, is closely folded
terrace, with his legs dangling over Flor- and sombre, while the vast and beautiful
ence, much may be learned from the corolla spreads its brilliant and fragrant
guide-book of the immortal Murray, so circumference, petal upon petal, for
that he who runs may read and philoso- miles and miles around .
phize.

THE BATTLE OF LEPANTO .

It was two hours before dawn on Sun the pope , and directed a gun to be fired,
day, the memorable seventh of October, the signal for battle. The report, as it
1571 , when the fleet weighed anchor. ran along the rocky shores, fell cheerily
The wind had become lighter, but it was on the ears of the confederates, who,
still contrary, and the galleys were in raising their eyes towards the conse
debted for their progress much more to crated banner, filled the air with their
their oars than to their sails. By sunrise shouts.
they were abreast of the Curzolares, a The principal captains now came on
cluster of huge rocks, or rocky islets, board the Real to receive the last orders
which, on the north, defends the en of the commander - in -chief. Even at this
trance of the Gulf of Lepanto. The late hour there were some who ventured
fleet moved laboriously along, while to intimate their doubts of the expe
every eye was strained to catch the first diency of engaging the enemy in aa posi
glimpse of the hostile navy. At length tion where he had a decided advantage.
the watch from the foretop of the Rcul But Don John cut short the discussion .
called out, “ A sail ! ” and soon after an “ Gentlemen ,” he said, “ this is the inne
nounced that the whole Ottoman fleet for combat, not for counsel.” He then
was in sight. Several others, climbing continued the dispositions he was making
up the rigging, confirmed his report; and for the assault.
in a few moments more word was sent He had already given to each com
to the same effect by Andrew Doria, mander of a galley written instructions
who commanded on the right. There as to the manner in which the line of
was no longer any doubt ; and Don battle was to be formed, in case of meet
John, ordering his pendant to be dis ing the enemy. The armada was now
played at the mizzen -peak, unfurled the formed in that order. It extended on a
great standard of the League, given by front of three miles. Far on the right
1857. ] The Battle of Lepanto. 139

a squadron of sixty-four galleys was When the officers had received their
commanded by the Genoese, Andrew last instructions, they returned to their
Doria, a name of terror to the Moslems. respective vessels ; and Don John, going
The centre, or battle, as it was called, on board of a light frigate, passed rapidly
consisting of sixty- three galleys, was led through that part of the armada lying on
by John of Austria, who was supported his right, while he commanded Reque
on the one side by Colonna, the captain- sens to do the same with the vessels on
general of the pope, and on the other by his left. His object was to feel the tem
the Venetian captain -general, Veniero. per of his men, and rouse their mettle
Immediately in the rear was the galley by a few words of encouragement. The
of the Comendador Requesens, who still Venetians he reminded of their recent
remained near the person of his former injuries. The hour for vengeance, he
pupil; though a difference which arose told them , had arrived . To the Span
between them on the voyage, fortunately iards, and other confederates, he said,
now healed , showed that the young “ You have come to fight the battle of
commander-in -chief was wholly indepen- the Cross, —to conquer or die. But
dent of his teacher in the art of war . whether you die or conquer, do your
The left wing was commanded by the duty this day, and you will secure a
noble Venetian, Barberigo, whose ves- glorious immortality." His words were
sels stretched along the Ætolian shore, received with a burst of enthusiasm
which, to prevent his being turned by which went to the heart of the com
the enemy, he approached as near as, in mander, and assured him that be could
his ignorance of the coast, he dared to rely on his men in the hour of trial. Ou
venture. Finally, the reserve, consisting his return to his vessel, he saw Veniero
of thirty-five galleys, was given to the on his quarter-deck, and they exchanged
brave Marquis of Santa Cruz, with salutations in as friendly a manner as if
directions to act on any part where no difference had existed between them .
he thought his presence most needed . At a time like this, both these brave
The smaller craft, some of which had men were willing to forget all personal
now arrived , seem to have taken little animosity, in a common feeling of devo
part in the action , which was thus left to tion to the great cause in which they
the galleys. were engaged.
Each commander was to occupy so The Ottoman fleet came on slowly
much space with his galley as to allow and with difficulty. For, strange to say,
room for manœuvring it to advantage, the wind, which had hitherto been ad
and yet not enough to enable the enemy verse to the Christians, after lulling for a
to break the line. He was directed to time, suddenly shifted to the opposite
single out his adversary, to close at once quarter, and blew in the face of the
with him , and board as soon as possible. enemy. As the day advanced, more
The beaks of the galleys were pro over, the sun , which had shone in the
nounced to be a hindrance rather than a eyes of the confederates, gradually shot
help in action. They were rarely strong its rays into those of the Moslems. Both
enough to resist a shock from the enemy ; circumstances were of good omen to the
and they much interfered with the work- Christians, and the first was regarded as
ing and firing of the guns. Don John nothing short of a direct interposition of
had the beak of his vessel cut away ; Heaven. Thus ploughing its way along,
and the example was speedily followed the Turkish armament, as it came near
throughout the fleet, and, as it is said , er into view , showed itself in greater
with eminently good effect. It may seem strength than bad been anticipated by
strange that this discovery should have the allies. It consisted of nearly two
beenreserved for the crisis of a bat hundred and fifty royal galleys, most of
te. them of the largest class, besides a num
140 The Battle of Lepanto. [December,
ber of smaller vessels in the rear, which, his countenance fell. If so, he still did
like those of the allies, appear scarcely not abate one jot of his resolution. He
to have come into action . The men on spoke to those around him with the
board, including those of every descrip- same confidence as before of the result
tion, were computed at not less than a of the battle. He urged his rowers to
hundred and twenty thousand. strain every effort. Ali was a man of
The
galley's spread out, as usual with the more humanity than often belonged to
Turks, in the form of a regular half- his nation. His galley-slaves were all,
moon, covering a wider extent of surface or nearly all, Christian captives ; and he
than the combined flects, which they addressed them in this neat and pithy
somewhat exceeded in numbers. They manner : “ Ifyour countrymen win this
presented , indeed, as they drew nearer, day, Allah give you the benefit of it !
a magnificent array, with their gilded Yet if I win it, you shall have your
and gaudily painted prows, and their freedom . If you feel that I do well by
myriads of pennons and streamers flut- you, do then the like by me.”
tering gayly in the breeze, while the As the Turkish admiral drew nearer,
rays of the morning sun glanced on the he made a change in his order of battle
polished scymitars of Damascus, and on by separating his wings farther from his
the superb aigrettes of jewels which centre, thus conforming to the dispositions
sparkled in the turbans of the Ottoman of the allies. Before he had come within
chiefs. cannon -shot, he fired a gun by way of
In the centre of the extended line, challenge to his enemy. It was answered
and directly opposite to the station by another from the galley of John of
occupied by the captain -general of the Austria. A second gun discharged by
League, was the huge galley of Ali Ali was as promptly replied to by the
Pasha. The right of the armada was Christian commander. The distance be
commanded by Mehemet Siroco, viceroy tween the two feets was now rapidly
of Egypt, a circumspect as well as cour- diminishing At this solemn hour a
ageous leader ; the left by Uluch Ali, dey death - like silence reigned throughout the
of Algiers, the redoubtable corsair of armament of the confederates. Men
the Mediterranean . Ali Pasha had ex- seemed to hold their breath, as if ab
perienced a similar difficulty with Don sorbed in the expectation of some great
John, as several of his officers had catastrophe. The day was magnificent.
strongly urged the inexpediency of en- A light breeze, still adverse to the
gaging so formidable an arınament as Turks, played on the waters, somewhat
tbat of the allies. But Ali, like his rival, fretted by contrary winds. It was near
was young and ambitious. He had been ly noon ; and as the sun , mounting
sent by his master to fight the enemy ; through a cloudless sky, rose to the
and no remonstrances, not even those zenith , he seemed to pause , as if to look
of Mehemet Siroco , for whom he had down on the beautiful scene, where the
great respect, could turn him from his multitude of galleys, moving over the
purpose . water, showed like a boliday spectacle
He had , moreover, received intelli- rather than a preparation for mortal
gence that the allied fleet was much combat.
inferior in strength to what it proved. The illusion was soon dispelled by the
In this error he was fortified by the first fierce yells which rose on the air from
appearance of the Christians; for the the Turkish armada. It was the cus
extremity of their left wing, command- tomary war-cry with which the Moslems
ed by Barberigo, stretching behind the entered into battle. Very different was
Ætolian shore, was hidden from his view . the scene on board of the Christian gal
As he drew nearer, and saw the whole leys. Don John might be there seen,
extent of the Christian lines, it is said armed cap -a -pie, standing on the prow
1857.] The Battle of Lepanto. 141

of the Real, anxiously awaiting the com- with his vessels as near the coast as be
ing conflict. In this conspicuous posi- dared . Siroco, better acquainted with
tion , kneeling down, he raised his eyes the soundings, saw there was space
to heaven, and humbly prayed that the enough for him to pass, and darting by
Almighty would be with his people on with all the speed that oars and wind
that day. His example was speedily could give him , he succeeded in doubling
followed by the whole fleet. Officers on his enemy. Thus placed between
and men, all falling on their knees, and two fires, the extreme of the Christian
turning their eyes to the consecrated left fought at terrible disadvantage. No
banner which floated from the Real, put less than eight galleys went to the bot
up a petition like that of their com- tom . Several more were captured.
mander. They then received absolution The brave Barberigo, throwing himself
from the priests, of whom there were into the heat of the fight, without avail
some in each vessel ; and each man , as ing himself of his defensive armor, was
he rose to his feet, gathered new strength pierced in the eye by an arrow , and
from the assurance that the Lord of though reluctant to leave the glory of
Hosts would fight on his side. the field to another, was borne to his
When the foremost vessels of the cabin. The combat still continued with
Turks had come within cannon -shot, unabated fury on the part of the Vede
they opened a fire on the Christians. tians. They fought like men who felt
The firing soon ran along the whole of that the war was theirs, and who were
the Turkish line, and was kept up with- animated not only by the thirst for glory,
out interruption as it advanced. Don but for revenge.
John gave orders for trumpet and ata- Far on the Christian right, a maneu
bal to sound the signal for action ; and vre similar to that so successfully exe
a simultaneous discharge followed from cuted by Siroco was attempted by
such of the guns in the combined feet Uluch Ali, the viceroy of Algiers.
as could bear on the enemy . Don John Profiting by his superiority of numbers,
had caused the galeazzas to be towed he endeavored to turn the right wing of
some half a mile ahead of the fleet, where the confederates. It was in this quarter
they might intercept the advance of the that Andrew Doria commanded . He
Turks. As the latter came abreast of also had foreseen this movement of his
them , the huge galleys delivered their enemy, and he succeeded in foiling it.
broadsides right and left, and their heavy It was a trial of skill between the two
ordnance produced a startling effect. most accomplished seamen in the Med
Ali Pasha gave orders for his galleys to iterranean. Doria extended his line so
open on cither side, and pass without far to the right, indeed, to prevent being
engaging these monsters of the decp, surrounded , that Don John was obliged
of which he had had no experience. to remind him that he left the centre
Even so their heavy guns did consider- much too exposed. His dispositions
able damage to the nearest vessels, and were so far unfortunate for himself that
created some confusion in the pasha's his own line was thus weakened and
line of battle . They were , however, afforded some vulnerable points to his
but unwieldy craft, and, having accom- assailant. These were soon detected by
plished their object, seem to have taken the eagle eye of Uluch Ali; and like the
no further part in the combat. The king of birds swooping on his prey, he
action began on the left wing of the fell on some galleys separated by a con
allies , which Mchemet Siroco was de- siderable interval from their companions,
sirous of turning. This had been antici-and, sinking more than one, carried off
pated by Barberigo, the Venetian ad- the great Capitana of Malta in triumph
miral, who commanded in that quarter. as his prize.
To prevent it, as we have seen , he lay While the combat thus opened disas
142 The Battle of Lepanto . [ December,
trously to the allies both on the right tioned as a corps de réserve. He had,
and on the left, in the centre they may moreover, a hundred archers on board .
be said to have fought with doubtful for- The bow was still much in use with the
tune. Don John had led his division Turks, as with the other Moslems.
gallantly forward. But the object on The pasha opened at once on his
which he was intent was an encounter enemy a terrible fire of cannon and
musketry. It was returned with equal
with Ali Pasha, the foe most worthy of
his sword . The Turkish commander spirit, and much more effect ; for the
had the same combat no less at heart. Turkish marksmen were observed to
The galleys of both were easily recog- shoot over the heads of their adversaries.
nized, not only from their position, but Their galley was unprovided with the
from their superior size and richer deco- defences which protected the sides of the
ration. The one, moreover, displayed Spanish vessels ; and the troops, huddled
the holy banner of the League; the together on their lofty prow , presented
other, the great Ottoman standard. an easy mark to their enemies' balls.
This, like the ancient standard of the But though numbers of them fell at
caliphs, was held sacred in its character. every discharge, their places were soon
It was covered with texts from the supplied by those in reserve . Their
Koran, emblazoned in letters of gold, incessant fire, moreover, wasted the
with the name of Allah inscribed upon strength of the Spaniards; and as both
it no less than twenty-eight thousand Christian and Mussulman fought with
nine hundred times. It was the ban- indomitable spirit, it seemed doubtful to
ner of the Sultan, baving passed from which side the victory would incline.
father to son since the foundation of The affair was made more complicated
the imperial dynasty, and was never by the entrance of other parties into the
seen in the field unless the Grand- conflict. Both Ali and Don John were
Seignior or his lieutenant was there in supported by some of the most valiant
person . captains in their fleets. Next to the
Both the Christian and the Moslem Spanish commander, as we have seen ,
chief urged on their rowers to the top were Colonna and the veteran Veniero,
of their speed. Their galleys soon shot who, at the age of seventy - six, performed
ahead of the rest of the line, driven feats of arms worthy of a paladin of
through the boiling surges as by the romance. Thus aa little squadron of com
force of a tornado, and closing with a batants gathered around the principal
shock that made every timber crack, and leaders, who sometimes found themselves
the two vessels quiver to their very keels. assailed by several enemies at the same
So powerful, indeed, was the impetus time. Still the chiefs did not lose sight
they received, that the pasha's galley, of one another, but beating off their in
which was considerably the larger and ferior foes as well as they could, each
loftier of the two, was thrown so far refusing to loosen his hold, clung with
upon its opponent that the prow reached mortal grasp to his antagonist.
the fourth bench of rowers . As soon as Thus the fight raged along the whole
the vessels were disengaged from each extent of the entrance of the Gulf of
other, and those on board had recovered Lepanto. If the eye of the spectator
from the shock, the work of death began. could have penetrated the cloud of
Don John's chief strength consisted in smoke that enveloped the combatants,
some three hundred Spanish arquebus- and have embraced the whole scene at a
iers, culled from the flower of bis infan- glance, he would have beheld them brok
try. Ali, on the other hand, was pro- en up into small detachments, engaged
vided with the like number ofjanissaries. in conflict with one another, wholly in
He was also followed by a smaller vessel, dependently of the rest, and indeed
in which two hundred more were sta- ignorant of all that was doing in other
1857.] The Battle of Lepanto . 143

quarters. The volumes of vapor, rolling But the Venetians gathered courage
heavily over the waters, effectually shut from despair. By incredible efforts they
out from sight whatever was passing at succeeded in beating off their enemies.
any considerable distance, unless when a "They became the assailants in their
fresher breeze dispelled the smoke for turn. Sword in hand, they carried one
a moment, or the flashes of the heavy vessel after another. The Capuchin , with
guns threw a transient gleam over the uplifted crucifix , was seen to head the
dark canopy of battle. The contest attack , and to lead the boarders to the
exhibited few of those enlarged combi- assault. The Christian galley -slaves, in
nations and skilful manœuvres to be some instances, broke their fetters and
expected in a great naval encounter. joined their countrymen against their
It was rather an assemblage of petty masters. Fortunately, the vessel of Me
actions, resembling those on land. The hemet Siroco, the Moslem admiral, was
galleys, grappling together, presented a sunk ; and though extricated from the
level arena, on which soldier and galley- water himself, it was only to perish by
slave fought band to hand, and the fate the sword of his conqueror, Juan Conta
of the engagement was generally decided rini. The Venetian could find no mercy
by boarding. As in most hand -to band for the Turk .
contests, there was an enormous waste The fall of their commander gave the
of life . The decks were loaded with final blow to his followers. Without
corpses, Christian and Moslem lying further attempt to prolong the fight, they
promiscuously together in the embrace fled before the avenging swords of the
of death. Instances are given where Venetians. Those nearest the land en
every man on board was slain or wound- deavored to escape by running their
ed . It was a ghastly spectacle, where vessels ashore, where they abandoned
blood flowed in rivulets down the sides them as prizes to the Christians. Yet
of the vessels, staining the waters of the many of the fugitives, before gaining the
Gulf for miles around. shore, perished miserably in the waves.
It seemed as if some hurricane had Barberigo, the Venetian admiral, who
swept over the sea, and covered it with was still lingering in agony, heard the
the wreck of the noble armaments which tidings of the enemy's defeat, and ex
a moment before were so proudly riding claiming, “ I die contented ,” he breathed
on its bosom . Little had they now to his last.
remind one of their late magnificent Meanwhile the combat had been go
array, with their hulls battered and de- ing forward in the centre between the
faced, their masts and spars gone or fear- two commanders-in -chief, Don John and
fully splintered by the shot, their canvas Ali Pasha, whose galleys blazed with an
cut into shreds and floating wildly on the incessant fire of artillery and musketry
breeze, while thousands of wounded and that enveloped them like “ a martyr's
drowning men were clinging to the float- robe of fames .” Both parties fought
ing fragments, and calling piteously for with equal spirit, though not with equal
belp. Such was the wild uproar which fortune. Twice the Spaniards had board
ed their enemy, and both times they had
bad succeeded to the Sabbatb - like still-
ness that two hours efore had reigned been repulsed with loss. Still their
over these beautiful solitudes ! superiority in the use of their fire -arms
The left wing of the confederates, would have given them aa decided advan
commanded by Barberigo, had been sore- tage over their opponents, if the loss thus
ly pressed by the Turks, as we have inflicted had not been speedily repaired
seen, at the beginning of the fight. by fresh reinforcements. More than
Barberigo himself had been mortally once the contest between the two chief
wounded. His line had been turned . tains was interrupted by the arrival of
Several of his galleys had been sunk. others to take part in the fray. They
144 The Battle of Lepanto. [ December,
soon , however, returned to one another purpose . He was a convict, one of
as if unwilling to waste their strength on those galley -slaves whom Don John had
a meaner enemy. Through the whole caused to be unchained from the oar,
engagement both commanders exposed and furnished with arms. He could not
themselves to danger as freely as any believe that any treasure would be worth
common soldier. Even Philip must have so much to him as the head of the pasba.
admitted that in such a contest it would Without further hesitation he dealt him a
have been difficult for his brother to find blow which severed it from his shoulders.
a
with honor a place of safety. Don John Then returning to his galley, he laid the
received a wound in the foot. It was a bloody trophy before Don John. But
slight one, however, and he would not he had miscalculated on his recompense.
allow it to be attended to till the action His commander gazed on it with a look
was over . of pity mingled with horror. He may
At length the men were mustered, have thought of the generous conduct of
and aa third time the trumpets sounded to Ali to his Christian captives, and have
the assault. It was more successful than felt that he deserved a better fate . Ile
those preceding. The Spaniards threw coldly inquired " of what use such a pres
themselves boldly into the Turkish gal- ent could be to him," and then ordered
ley. They were met by the janissaries it to be thrown into the sea. Far from
with the same spirit as before. Ali being obeyed, it is said the head was
Pasha led them on. Unfortunately, at stuck on a pike and raised aloft on board
this moment he was struck by a musket- the captive galley. At the same time
ball in the head , and stretched senseless the banner of the Crescent was pulled
on the gangway. His men fought wor- down, while that of the Cross run up in
thily of their ancient renown . But they its place proclaimed the downfall of the
missed the accustomed voice of their pasha.
commander. After a short, but ineffec- The sight of the sacred ensign was
tual struggle against the fiery impetuosity welcomed by the Christians with a shout
of the Spaniards, they were overpowered of “ Victory ! " which rose high above the
and threw down their arms. The decks din of battle. The tidings of the death
were loaded with the bodies of the dead of Ali soon passed from mouth to mouth ,
and the dying. Beneath these was dis- giving fresh heart to the confederates,
covered the Turkish commander- in -chief, but falling like aa knell on the ears of the
sorely wounded, but perhaps not mor- Moslems. Their confidence was gone.
tally. He was drawn forth by some Their fire slackened. Their efforts grew
Castilian soldiers, who, recognizing his weaker and weaker. They were too
person , would at once have despatched far from shore to seek an asylum there,
him . But the wounded chief, having like their comrades on the right. They
rallied from the first effects of his blow, had no resource but to prolong the com
had presence of mind enough to divert bat or to surrender. Most preferred
them from their purpose by pointing out the latter. Many vessels were carried
the place below where he had deposited by boarding, others sunk by the victori
his money and jewels, and they hastened ous Christians. Before four hours had
to profit by the disclosure before the elapsed, the centre, like the right wing
treasure should fall into the hands of of the Moslems, might be said to be anni
their comrades. bilated .
Ali was not so successful with another Still the fight was lingering on the
soldier, who came up soon after, brandish- right of the confederates, where, it will
ing his sword, and preparing to plunge be remembered , Uluch Ali, the Algerine
it into the body of the prostrate com- chief, had profited by Doria's error in ex
mander. It was in vain that the latter tending his line so far as greatly to weak
endeavored to turn the ruffian from his en it. His adversary, attacking it on its
1857.] The Battle of Lepanto. 145

most vulnerable quarter, had succeeded,
as we have seen , in capturing and de-
stroying several vessels, and would have
inflicted still heavier losses on his enemy,
had it not been for the seasonable succor
whole strength of his oarsmen . Doria
and Santa Cruz followed quickly in his
wake. But he was borne on the wings
of the wind, and soon distanced his pur
Don John, having disposed of his
suers .

received from the Marquis of Santa own assailants, was coming to the sup
Cruz. This brave officer, who com- port of Doria, and now joined in the pur
manded the reserve, had already been suit of the viceroy. A rocky headland,
of much scrvice to Don John, when the stretching far into the sea, lay in the path
Real was assailed by several Turkish of the fugitive, and his enemies hoped
galleys at once, during his combat with to intercept him there. Some few of his
Ali Pasha ; the Marquis having arrived vessels stranded on the rocks. But the
a , this juncture, and beating off the as- rest, near forty in number, standing more
sailants, one of whom he afterwards cap boldly out to sea, sately doubicd the prom
tured , the commander- in -chief was en- ontory. Then quickening their flight,
abled to resume his engagement with the they gradually faded from the horizon ,
pasha. their white sails, the last thing visible,
No sooner did Santa Cruz learn the showing in the distance like a flock of
critical situation of Doria, than, support- Arctic sea- fowl on their way to their
ed by Cardona, general of the Sicilian native homes. The confederates ex
squadron, he pushed forward to his re- plained the inferior sailing of their own
lief. Dashing into the midst of the galleys by the circumstance of their row
melée, they fell like aa thunderbolt on the ers, who had been allowed to bear arms
Algerine galleys. Few Few attempted to
attempted to in the fight, being crippled by their
withstand the shock . But in their haste wounds.
to avoid it, they were encountered by The battle had lasted more than four
Doria and his Genoese. Thus beset on hours. The sky, which had been almost
all sides, Uluch Ali was compelled to without a cloud through the day, began
abandon his prizes and provide for his now to be overcast, and showed signs of a
own safety by flight. He cut adrift coming storm . Before seeking a place
the Maltese Capitana, which he had of shelter for himself and his prizes, Don
lashed to his stern, and on which three John reconnoitred the scene of action.
hundred corpses attested the desperate He met with several vessels in too dam
character of her defence. As tidings ayed a state for further service. These
reached him of the discomfiture of the mostly belonging to the enemy, after sav
centre and the death of his commander, ing what was of any value on board, he
he felt that nothing remained but to ordered to be burnt. He selected the
make the best of his way from the fatal neighboring port of Petala, as affording
scene of action, and save as many of his the most secure and accessible harbor for
own ships as he could. And there were the night. Before he had arrived there,
no ships in the Turkish fleet superior to the tempest began to mutter and dark
his, or manned by men under more per- ness was on the water. Yet the dark
fecit discipline ; for they were the fa- ness rendered the more visible the blaz
my sus corsairs of the Mediterranean , who ing wrecks, which, sending up streams
had been rocked from infancy on its of fire mingled with showers of sparks,
waters . looked like volcanoes on the deep.
Throwing out his signals for retreat, Long and loud were the congratula
the Algerine was soon to be seen , at the
tions now paid to the young commander
bead of his squadron, standing towards in -chief by his brave companions in arms,
the north , under as much canvas as re- on the success of the day. The hours
mained to him after the battle, and passed blithely with officers and men ,
urged forward through the deep by the while they recounted one to another their
VOL. I. 10
 146 The Battle of Lepanto. [ December,
manifold achievements. But feelings of jewels, and brocade, was found on board
gloom mingled with their gayety , as they several of the prizes. The galley of the
gathered tilings of the loss of friends commander -in -chief alone is stated to
who had bought this victory with their bave contained one hundred and seventy
blood . thousand gold sequins,-a large sum , but
It was, indeed, a sanguinary battle, not large enough, it seems, to buy off his
surpassing in this particular any sca-fight lite.
of modern times. The loss tell much The losses of the combatants cannot
the most heavily on the enemy. There be fairly presented without taking into
is the usual discrepancy about nun- the account the quality as well as the
bers; but it may bu safe to estimate the number of the slain. The number of
Turkish loss at about twenty - four thou- persons of consideration, both Christians
sand slain , and five thousand prisoners. and Moslems, who embarked in the ex
But what gave most joy to the hearts pedition, was very great. The roll of
of the conquerors was the liberation of slaughter showed that in the race of
twelve thousand Christian captives, who glory they gave little heed to their per
had been chained to the oar on board the sonal safety. The ofiicer second in
Moslein galleys, and who now came forth comnand among the Venetians, the
with tears streaming down their haggard commander -in -chief of the Turkish ar
checks, to bless their deliverers. mament, and the commander of its
The loss of the allies was compara- riuht wing, all fell in the battle. Many
tively small,-less than eight thousand. a lrigh-born cavalier closed at Lepanto a
That it was so much less than that of long career of honorable service. More
their enemies may be referred in part than one, on the other hand , dated the
to their superiority in the use of fire- commencement of their career from this
arms; in part, also, to their exclusive day. Such was the case with Alexander
use of these, instead of employing bows Farnese, the young prince of Parma.
and arrows, weapons much less effective, Though somewhat older than his un
but on which the Turks, like the other cle , John of Austria , difference of birth
Moslem nations, seem to bave greatly had placed a wide distance in their con
relied. Lastly, the Turks were the van- ditions ; the one filling the post of com
quished party, and in their lieavier loss mander -in -chief, the other only that of a
suffered the almost invariable lot of the private adventurer. Yet even so he
vanquished . succecded in winning great renown by
As to their armada, it may almost be his achievements. The galley in which
said to have been annihilated . Not he sailed was lying, yard-arm to yard
more than forty galleys escaped, out of arm , alongside of a Turkish galley, with
near two hundred and fitty which had which it was hotly engaged . In the
entered into the action. One hundred midst of the action, the young Farnese
and thirty were taken and divided sprang on board of the enemy, and with
among the conquerors. The remainder, his stout broadsword hewed down all
sunk or burned , were swallowed up by who opposed him , opening a path in to
the waves . To counterbalance all this, which his comrades poured one after
the confederates are said to have lost another ; and after a short, but murder
not more than fifteen galleys, though a ous contest, he succeeded in carrying the
much larger nuniber doubtless were ren- vessel. As Farnese's galley lay just
dered untit for service. This disparity astern of Don John's, the latter could
affords good evidence of the inferiority witness the achievement of his nephew ,
of the Turks in the construction of their which filled him with an admiration he
.vessels, as well as in the nautical skill did not affect to conceal. The intrepid
required to manage them . A large ity he displayed on this occasion gave
amount of booty, in the form of gold, augury of his character in later life.
 -
1857. ] The Battle of Lepanto. 147

when he succeeded his uncle in com- fession which, beyond all others, opened
mand, and surpassed him in military the way to eminence in Turkey. They
renown . were not on board of his galley, and
Another youth was in that sea - fight, when they were informed of his death,
who, then humble and unknown, was they were inconsolable. To this sorrow
destined one day to win laurels of a was now to be added the doom of slave
purer and more enviable kind than those ery:
which grow on the battle- field . This As they were led into the presence of
was Cervantes, who, at the age of twen- Don John, the youths prostrated them
ty -four, was serving on board the feet as selves on the deck of his vessel. But
a conimon soldier. He was confined to raising them up, he affectionately em
his bed by a fever ; but, notwithstanding braced them .. He said all be could
the remonstrances of his captain, in- to console them under their troubles.
sisted, on the morning of the action, not He caused them to be treated with the
only on bearing arms, but on being sta- consideration due to their rank . His
tioned at the post of danger. And well secretary, Juan de Soto, surrendered his
did he perform his duty there, as was quarters to them . They were provided
shown by two wounds on the breast, and with the richest apparel that could be
another in the hand, by which he lost found among the spoil. Their table was
the use of it. Fortunately, it was the served with the same delicacies as that
left hand. The right yet remained , to of the commander -in -chief ; and his gen
record those immortal productions which tlemen of the chamber showed the same
were to be familiar as household words, deference to them as to himself. His
not only in his own lànd, but in every kindness did not stop with these acts of
quarter of the civilized world. chivalrous courtesy. He received a let
A fierce storin of thunder and light- ter froin their sister Fatima, containing a
ning raged for four-and -twenty hours touching appeal to Don John's human
after the battle, during which the fleet ity, and soliciting the release of her
rode safely at anchor in the harbor of orphan brothers. He had sent a courier
Petala. It remained there three days to give their friends in Constantinople
longer. Don John profited by the time the assurance of their personal satity ;
to visit the different galleys and ascer- which ,” adds the lady, " is held by all
tain their condition . He informed him- this court as an act of great cou sy ,
self of the conduct of the troops, and gran gentilezza ; and there is no one
was liberal of his praises to those who here who does not admire the goodness
deserved them . With the sick and the and magnanimity of your Highness."
wounded he showed the greatest sym- She enforced her petition with a rich
pathy, endeavoring to alleviate their present, for which she graceiully apolo
sufferings, and furnishing them with gized, as intended to express her own
whatever his galley contained that could feelings, though far below huis deserts.
minister to their comfort. With so gen- The young princes, in the division of
erous and sympathetic a nature, it is the spoil, were assigned to the pope.
not wonderful that he should have es- But Don John succeeded in obtaining
tablished himself in the hearts of his their liberation. Unfortunately, the el
soldiers. der died-of a broken heart, it is said
But the proofs of this kindly temper at Naples. The younger was sent home,
were not confined to his own followers. with three of his attendants, for whonı
Among the prisoners were two sons of he had an especial regard. Don John
Ali, the Turkish commander - in -chief. declined the present, which he gave to
One was seventeen, the other only thir- Fatima's brother. In a letter to the
teen years of age. Thus early had their Turkish princess, he remarked , that “ he
father desired to initiate them in a pro- had done this, not because he under
148 The Wind and Stream . [ December,
valued her beautiful gift, but because itwho stood in need of their protection,
had ever been the habit of his royal an- but not to receive aught by way of
cestors freely to grant favors to those recompense .”

THE WIND AND STREAM .

A BROOK came stealing from the ground ;
You scarcely saw its silvery gleam
Among the herbs that hung around
The borders of that winding stream , —
A pretty stream , a placid stream ,
A sotily gliding, bashful stream .

A breeze came wandering from the sky,

Light as the whispers of a dream ;
He put the o'erhanging grasses by,
And gayly stooped to kiss the stream ,
The pretty stream , the tlattered stream ,
The shy, yet unreluctant stream .

The water, as the wind passed o'er,

Shot upward many a glancing beam ,
Dimpled and quivered more and more,
And tripped along a livelier stream ,
The tlattered stream , the simpering stream ,
The fond, delighted, silly stream .
Away the airy wanderer flew
To where the fields with blossoms teem ,
To sparkling springs and rivers blue,
And left alone that little stream ,
The Hattered stream , the cheated stream ,
The sad, forsaken, lonely stream .

That careless wind no more came back ;

He wanders yet the fields, I deem ;
But on its melancholy track
Complaining went that little stream,
The cheated stream , the hopeless stream ,
The ever murmuring, moaning stream .
1857.] T'urkey Tracks. 149

TURKEY TRACKS.

Don't open your eyes, Polder ! You and Kate, her sister, had gone up to
think I am going to tell you about some nurse her. When I came home Peggy
of my Minnesota experiences; how I was getting better, and sent for me to
used to scamper over the prairies on my come up and make a visitation there in
Indian pony, and lie in wait for wild June. I hadn't seen Kate for seven
turkeys on the edge of an oak open- years,—not since she was thirteen ; our
ing. That is pretty sport, too, to creep education intervened. She had gone
under an oak with low-hanging boughs, through that grading process and come
and in the silence of a glowing autumn- out. By Jupiter ! when she met me at
day linger by the hour together in a the door of Smith's pretty, English -look
trance of warm stillness, watching the ing cottage, I took my bat off, she was so
light tracery of shadow and sun on that like that little Brazilian princess we used
smooth swarl, only now and then roused to see in the cortege of the court at Par
by the fleet rush of a deer through the is. What was her name ? Never mind
wood, or the brisk chatter of a plume that! Kate had just such large, expres
tailed squirrel, till one hears a distant, sive eyes, just such masses of shiny black
sharp, clucking chuckle, and in an in- hair, just such a little nose, -turned up
stant more pulls the trigger, and upsets a undeniably , but all the more piquant.
grand old cock, every bronzed feather And her teeth ! good gracious! she
glittering in the sunshine, and now splash- smiled like a flash of lightning , -dark
ed with scarlet blood , the delicate under- and sallow as she was. But she was cross ,
wing around into down as he rolls and or stiff, or something, to me for a long
Autters ; for the first shot rarely kills at time. Peggy only appeared after dinner,
once with an amateur ; there's too much looking pale and lovely enough in her
excitement. Splendid sport, that ! but loose wrapper to make Peter act exces
I'm not going into it second-hand. I sively like a young married man .
promised to tell you a story, now the and to make me wish myself at an in
skipper's fast, and the night is too warm visible distance, doing something beside
to think of sleep down in that wretch- picking up Kate's things, that she always
ed bunk ;-what another torture Dante dropped on the floor whenever she sewed .
might have lavished on his Inferno, if Peggy saw I was bored , so she requested
he'd ever slept in a fishing -smack ! No. me one day to walk down to the poultry
The moonlight makes me sentimental ! yard and ask about her chickens ; she
Did I ever tell you about a month I pretended a great deal of anxiety, and
spent up in Centreville , the year I came Peter had sprained his ankle.
home from Germany ? That was tur- “ Kate will go with you,” said she.
key-hunting with a vengeance ! “ No, she won't ! " ejaculated that young
woman .
You see, my pretty cousin Peggy mar
ried Peter Smith, who owns paper-mills “ Thank you,” said I, making a minuet
in Centreville, and has exiled herself bow , and off I went to the farm -house .
into deep country forlife ; a circumstance Such a pretty walk it was, too ! through
I disapprove, because I like Peggy, and a thicket of birches, down a little hill-side
manufacturers always bore me, though into a hollow full of boary chestnut-trees,
Peter is a clever fellow enough ; but across a bubbling, dancing brook, and you
madam was an old flame of mine, and I came out upon the tiniest orchard in the
have a lingering tenderness for her yet. world, a one -storied house with a red
I wish she was nearer town . Just that porch, and a great sweet -brier bush there
year Pegoy had been very ill indeed, by ; while up the hill-side behind stretched
150 Turkey Tracks. [ December,
a high picket fence, enclosing huge trees, looks as ef 'twa'n't so woodsy over there
part of the same brook I had crossed as 'tis in these parts, 'specially out West.
here dammed into a pond, and a chicken- He's got folks out to Indianny, an ’ we
house of pretentious height and aspect ,- sot out fur to go a -cousinin ', five year
one of those model institutions that are back, an' we got out there inter the dre '.
the ruin of gentlemen -farmers and the fullest woodsy region ever ye see, where
delight of women . I had to go into the ' twa’n't trees, it was 'sketers ; husband be
farm -kitchen for the poultry -yard key. couldn't see none out of his eyes for a
The dvor stood open, and I stepped in hull day, and I thought I should caterpil
cautiously, lest I should come unaware lar every time I heerd one of 'em toot;
upon some domestic scene not intended they sartainly was the beater-ee ! ”.
66
to be visible to the naked eye. And a " The key, if you please ! " I meekly
scene I did come upon , fit for Retzsch to interposed. Mrs. Tucker was fast stun
outline ; -- the cleanest kitchen , a dresser ning me !
of white wood under one window , and “ Law yis ! Melindy, you go git that
the farmer's daughter, Melinda Tucker, 'ere key ; it's a -hangin' up ' side o' the
moulding bread thereat in a ponderous lookin’glass in the back shed, under that
tray; her deep red hair,—yes, it was red bunch o'onions father strung up yister
and comely ! of the deepest bay, full of day. Got the bread sot to rise, hev ye ?
gilded reflections, and accompanied by well, git yer bunnet an' go out to the
the fair, rose -flushed skin, blue eyes, and coop with Mr. Greene, ' n ' show him the
scarlet lips that belong to such hair,- turkeys an' the chickens, 'n' tell what
which, as I began to say, was puckered dre'ful luck we hev hed. I never did
into aa thousand curves trying to curl, and see sech luck ! the crows they keep a
knotted strictly against a pretty head , comin ' an ' snippin' up the little creturs
while her calico frock -sleeves were pin- jest as soon's they're hatched ; an' the
ned back to the shoulders, baring such a old turkey hen 't sot under the grape
dimpled pair of arms,—how they did ty vine she got two hen's eggs under her,
up and down in the tray ! I stood still con- 'n' they come out fust, so she quit
templating the picture, and presently see- Here I bolted out of the door, (a
ing her begin to strip the dough from her storm at sea did not deafen one like
pink fingers and mould it into a mass, I that !) Melindy following, in silence such
ventured to knock. If you had seen her as our blessed New England poet has
start and blush , Polder ! But when she immortalized ,-silence that
saw me, she grew as cool as you please, Like a poultice comes,
and called her mother. Down came
To heal the blows of sound ."
Mrs. Tucker, a talking Yankee. You
don't know what that is. Listen , then . Indeed, I did not discover that Me
“ Well, good day, sir ! l’xpect it's Mis- lindly could talk that day ; she was very
ter Greene, Miss Sinith's cousin . Well, silent, very incommunicative. I in
you be ! Don't favor her much though ; spected the fowls, and tried to look wise,
she's kinder dark complected. She ha'n't but I perceived a strangled laugh twist
got round yet, hes she ? Dew tell ! ing Melindy's face when I innocently
She's dre'ful delicate. I do'no' as ever inquired if she found catnip of much
I see a woman so sickly's she looks ter be benefit to the little chickens; a natural
sence that 'ere fever. She's real spry question enough, for the yard was full of
when she's so's to be crawlin ', — I'xpect it, and I had seen Hannah give it to the
too spry to be 'hulsome. Well, he tells baby. (Hannah is my sister.) I could
me you've ben 'crost the water. " Ta’n’t only see two little turkeys,—both on the
jest like this over there, I guess. Pretty floor of the second- story parlor in the
sightly places they be though, a’n’t they ? chicken -house, both flat on their backs
I've seen picturs in Melindy's jography, and gasping. Melindy did not know
1857.] Turkey Tracks. 151

what ailed them ; so I picked them up, There were six more hatched the next
slung them in my pocket-bandkerchief, day, though, and I held many consulta
and took them home for Peggy to mani- tions with Melindy about their welfare.
pulate. I heard Melindy chuckle as I Truth to tell, Kate continued so cool to
walked off, swinging them ; and to be me, Peter's sprained ankle lasted so long,
sure , when I brought the creatures in to and Peggy could so well spare me from
Peggy, one of them kicked and lay still, the little matrimonial tête -à -têtes that I
and the other gasped worse than ever. interrupted, (I believe they (lidn't mind
“ What can we do ? ” asked Peggy, in Kate !) that I took wondertully to the
the most plaintive voice, as the feeble chickens. Mrs. Turker gave me rye
" week ! week ! ” of the little turkey was bread and milk of the best ; “ teither
gasped out, more feebly every time. instructed me in the mysteries of cat
" Give it some whiskey -punch ! ” growl- tlc -driving; and Melindy, and Joe, and
ed Peter, whose strict temperance prin- I, used to go strawberrying, or after
ciples were shocked by the remedies pre- " posies," almost every day. Melindy
scribed for Peggy's ague. was a very pretty girl, and it was very
»
“ So I would , ” said Kate, demurely. good fun to see her blue eyes open and
Now if Peggy had one trait more her red lips laugh over my European
striking than another, it was her perfect, experiences. Really, I began to be of
simple faith in what people said ; irony some importance at the farm -house, and
was a mystery to her ; lying, a myth ,- to take airs upon myself, I suppose ; but
something on a par with murder. She I was not conscious of the fact at the
thought Kate meant so ; and reaching out time.
for the pretty wicker - flask that contained After a week or two, Melindy and I
her daily ration of old Scotch whiskey, began to have bad luck with the turkeys.
she dropped a little drop into a spoon, I found two drenched and shivering,
diluted it with water, and was going to after a hail-and -thunder storm , and set
give it to the turkey in all scriousness, ting them in a basket on the cooking
when Kate exclaimed , - store hearth, went to help Melindy
“ Peggy! when will you learn com- “ dress her bow - pot,” as she called ar
mon sense ? Who ever heard of giving ranging a vase of flowers, and when I
whiskey to a turkcy ? " came back the little turkeys were singed ;
“ Why, you told me to, Kate ! ” they died a few hours after. Two more
“ Oh, give it to the thing ! ” growled were trodden on by a great Shanghai
Peter ; " it will die, of course .' rooster, who was so tall he could not see
“ I shall give it ! ” said Peggy , reso- where he set his feet down ; and of the
lutely ; " it does me good, and I will remaining pair, one disappeared mysteri
try ." ously, supposed to be rats ; and one
So I held the little creature up, while falling into the duck -pond, Melindy be
Peggy carefully tipped the close down its gan to dry it in her apron , and I went to
throat. How it choked, kicked, and be help her ; I thought, as I was rubbing
gan again with “ week ! week ! ” when it the thing down with the apron, while she
meant “strong ! ” but it revived . Peggy held it, that I had found one of her soft
held it in the sun till it grew warm, gave dimpled hands, and I gave the luckless
it a drop more, fed it with bread -crumbs turkey such a tender pressure that it
from her own plate, and laid it on the uttered aa miserable squeak and departed
south window -sill. There it lay when this life . Melindy all but cried . I
we went to tea ; when we came ba: k, laughed irresistibly. So there were no
it lay on the floor, dead ; cither it was more turkeys. Peggy began to wonder
tipsy, or it hail tried its new strength too what they should do for the proper
soon , and, rolling off, had broken its Thanksgiving dinner, and Peter turned
neck ! Poor Peggy ! restlessly on his sofa, quite convinced
152 Turkey Tracks. [ December,
that everything was going to rack and been here before, on a strawberrying
ruin because he had a sprained ankle. stroll with Melindy , - ( across lots it was
“ Can't we buy some young turkeys? " not far,) — and having been asked in then,
timidly suggested Peggy. and entertained the lady with a recital
Of course , if one knew who had of some foreign exploit, garnished for the
them to sell ," retorted Peter. occasion, of course she recognized me
“ I know ,” said I ; “ Mrs. Amzi Peters, with clamorous hospitality.
up on the hill over Taunton, has got “ Why how do yew do, Mister G : eene ?
some. " I declare I ha'n't done a - thinkin ' of that
" Who told you about Mrs. Peters's ' ere story you told us the day you was
turkeys, Cousin Sam ? ” said Peggy, won-here, 'long o' Melindy. ” ( Kate gave an
dering. ominous little cough.) “ I was a-tellin'
“ Melindy," said I, quite innocently. husband yesterday 't I never see sech a
Peter whistled, Peggy laughed, Kate master hand for stories as you be. Well,
darted a keen glance at me under her yis, we hev got turkeys, young 'uns ; but
long lashes. my stars ! I don't know no more where
“ I know the way there,” said made- they be than nothin '; they've strayed
moiselle, in a suspiciously bland tone. away into the woods, I guess, and I
“ Can't you drive there with me, Cousin do'no' as the boys can skeer 'em up ;
Sam , and get some more ? ” besides, the boys is to school; l'm —- yis !
“ I shall be charmed," said I. Where did you and Melindy go that day
Peter rang the bell and ordered the arter berries ? "
horse to be ready in the single -seated “ Up in the pinc-lot, ma'am . You think
wagon , after dinner . I was going right you can't let us have the turkeys ? ”
down to the farm -house to console Me- “ Dew tell ef you went up there ! It's
lindy, and take her a book she wanted
2 near about the sightliest place I ever see.
to read, for no fine lady of all my New Well, no,–I don't see bow's to ketch them
York acquaintance enjoyed a good book turkeys. Miss Bemont, she 't lives over
more than she did ; but Cousin Kate on Woodchuck Hill , she's got a lot o'
asked me to wind some yarn for her, and little turkeys in a coop ; I guess you'd
was so brilliant, so amiable, so altogether better go 'long over there, an' ef you
charming, I quite forgot Melindy till can't get none o' her'n, by that time our
dinner-time, and then, when that was boys'll be to hum, an' I'll set 'em arter
over, there was a basket to be found, and our'n ; they'll buckle right to ; it's good
we were off, -turkey-hunting ! Down sport huntin' little turkeys; an' I guess
hill-sides overhung with tasselled chest- you'll hev to stop, comin' home, so's to
nut-boughs ; through pine-woods where let me know ef you'll hev 'em .”
neither horse nor wagon intruded any Off we drove. I stood in mortal fear
noise of hoof or wheel upon the odor- of Mrs. Peters's tongue,—and Kate's com
ous silence, as we rolled over the sand, ments ; but she did not make any ; be
past green meadows, and sloping or- was even more charming than before.
chards; over little bright brooks that Presently we came to the pine-lot, where
chattered musically to the bobolinks on Melindy and I had been, and I drew the
the fence -posts, and were echoed by those reins. I wanted to see Kate's enjoyment
sacerdotal gentlemen in such liquid, bub- of a scene that Kensett or Church should
bling, rollicking, uproarious bursts of have made immortal long ago :-a wide
singing as made one think of Anacreon's stretch of hill and valley, quivering with
grasshopper cornfields, rolled away in pasture lands,
“Drunk with morning's dewy wine." thick with sturdy woods, or dotted over
with old apple -trees, whose dense leaves
All these we passed, and at length drew caught the slant sunshine, glowing on
up before Mrs. Peters's house. I had their tops, and deepening to a dark, vel
1857.] Turkey Tracks. 153

vety green below , and far, far away, on some on 'em . What be you calc'latinº
the broad blue sky, the lurid splendors to give ”
?"
of a thunder-cloud, capped with pearly " Whatever you say. I do not know
summits, tower upon tower, sharply de- at all the market price .”
fined against the pure ether, while in its “ Gooil land ! 't'a'n't never no use to
purple base forked lightnings sped to try to dicker with city folks; they aʼn't
and fro, and revealed depths of waiting use to't. I'xpect you can hev 'em for
tempest that could not yet descend. Kate two York shillin' apiece.”
looked on, and over the superb picture. " But how will you catch them ? '
“ How magnificent ! ” was all she said, · Oh, I'll ketch 'em, easy ! ”
in a deep, low tone, her dark check flush- She went into the house and reap
ing with the words. Melindy and I had peared presently with a pan of Indian
looked off there together. “ It's real meal and water , cal the chickens,
good land to farm ,” had been the sweet and in a moment they were all crowding
little rustic's comment. How charming in and over the unexpected supper.
are nature and simplicity ! “ Now you jes' take a bit oʻstring an ?
Presently we came to Mrs. Bemont's, a tie that 'ere turkey's legs together ;
brown house in aa cluster of maples ; the 'twon't stir, I'll ensure it ! ”
door-yard full of chickens, turkeys, ducks, Strange to say, the innocent creature
and geese. Kate took the reins, and I stood still and eat, while I tied it up ; all
kngcked. Mrs. Bemontherselfappeared, unconscious till it tumbled neck and
wiping her red, puckered hands on a long heels into the pan, producing a start and
brown towel. scatter of brief duration . Kate had left
“ Can you let me have some of your the wagon, and was shaking with laugh
young turkeys, ma'am ? ” said I, insinu- ter over this extraordinary goodness on
atingly. the turkeys' part, and before long our
“ Well, I do'no ' ; - want to eat 'em or basket was full of struggling, kicking,
raise 'em ? " squeaking things, “ werry promiscuous,"
“ Both, I believe,” was my meek an- in Mr. Weller's phrase. Mrs. Bemont
swer .
was paid, and while she was giving
“ I do'no' 'bout lettin' on 'em go ; 'ta’n't me the change ,
no gret good to sell 'em after all the resks “ Oh ! ” said she, “ you're goin' right
is over: they git their own livin' pretty to Miss Tucker's, a’n't ye ?-got to drop
much now, an' they'll be wuth twice as the turkeys ;-won't you tell Miss Tucker
much by'm'by." 't George is comin ' home tomorrer, an '
“ I suppose so ; but Mrs. Smith's tur- he's ben to Californy. She know'd us
keys have all died, and she likes to raise allers, and Melindy 'n' George used ter
them . " be dre'ful thick 'fore he went off, a good
“ Dew tell, ef you ban't come from spell back, when they was nigh about
Miss Peter Smith's ! Well, she'd oughter childern ; so I guess you'd better tell 'em.”
do gret things with that 'ere meetin '. “ Confound these turkeys ! ” muttered
'us o' her’n for the chickens ; it's kinder I, as I jumped over the basket.
genteel-lookin ', and I spose they've got Why ? ” said Kate, “ I suspect they
means ; they've got ability: Gentility are confounded enough already ! ”
66
without ability I do despise ; but where They make such a noise, Kate ! "
'ta’n’t so , 't'a'n't no matter ; but I'xpect So they did ; “ week ! week ! week ! ”
it don't ensure the faowls none, doos all the way, like a colony from some
it ? ” spring-waked pool.
66
" I rather think not,” said I, laughing ; “ Their song might be compared
“ that is the reason we want some of
To the croaking of frogs in a pond ! "
yours. "
“ Well, I should think you could hev The drive was lovelier than before
154 Turkey Tracks. [ December,
The road crept and curled down the hill, “ How sweet and mystical this hour is ! "
now covered from side to side with the in- said I to Kate, in a high -flown manner ;
terlacing boughs of grand old chestnuts ; “ it is indeed
now barriered on the edge of a ravine * An hour when lips delay to speak ,
with broken fragments and boulders of ' Oppressed with silence deep and pure ;
granite, garlanded by heavy vines ; now When passion pauses- ' '
skirting orchards full of promise ; and
all the way companied by a tiny brook , “ Weck ! week ! week ! ” chimed in
veiled deeply in alder and hazel thickets, those confounded turkeys. Kate burst
and making in its shadowy channel per into a helpless fit of laughter. W bat
petual muffled music, like a child singing could I do ? I had to laugh m self, since
a

in the twilight to reassure its half - fear . I must not choke the turkeys.
ful heart. Kate's face was softened and “ Excuse me, Cousin Sam,” said Kate,
full of rich expression ; her pink ribbons in a laughter-wearied tone, “ I could not
threw a delicate tinge of bloom upon the help it ; turkeys and sentimentality do
rounded cheek and pensive eyelid ; the air not agree - always ! ” adding the last word
was pure balm, and a cool breath from the maliciously, as I sprang out to open the
receding showers of the distant thunder- farm -house gate, and disclosed Melindy,
storm just freshened the odors of wood framed in the buttery window , skimming
and field . I began to feel suspiciously milk ; a picture worthy of Wilkie. I
that sentimental, but through it all came delivered over my captives to Joe, and
persevering “ week ! week ! week ! ” from stalked into the kitchen to give Mrs. Be
the basket at my feet. Did I make a mont's message. Melindy came out ; but
fine remark on the beauties of nature, as soon as I began to tell her mother
" Week ! ” echoed the turkeys. Did Kate where I got that message, Miss Melindy,
praise some tint or shape by the way, with the sang froid of a duchess, turned
“ Week ! week ! ” was the feeble response. back to her skimming,-or appeared to .
Did we get deep in poctry, romance, or I gained nothing by that move.
metaphysics, through the most brilliant Peggy and Peter received us benign
quotation, the sublimest climax, the most ly ; so universal a solvent is success,
acute distinction , came in “ Week ! week ! even in turkey -hunting! I meant to
week ! " I began to feel as if the old have gone down to the farm -house after
story of transinigration were true, and tea, and inquired about the safety of my
the souls of half a dozen quaint and prizes, but Kate wanted to play chess.
ancient satirists had got into the tur- Peter couldn't, and Peggy wouldn't; I
keys. I could not endure it ! Was I to had to, of course, and we played late.
be squeaked out of all my wisdom, and Kate had such pretty hands ; long taper
knowledge, and device, after this fashion ? fingers, rounded to the tiniest rosy
Never ! I began, too, to discover a dawn- points ; no dimples, but full muscles,
ing smile upun Kate's face ; she turned firm and exquisitely moulded ; and the
her head away , and I placed the turkey- dainty way in which she handled her
basket on my knees, hoping a change men was half the game to me ;-I lost
of position might quiet its contents. it; I played wretchedly . The next day
Never was man more at fault ! they were Kate went with me to see the turkeys ;
no way stilled by my magnetism ; on the so she did the day after. We were for
contrary, they threw their sarcastic utter- getting Melindy, I am afraiil, for it
ances into my teeth, as it were, and was a week before I remembered I had
shamed me to my very face. I forgot promised her a new Magazine. I recol
entirely to go round by Mrs. Peters's. I lected myself; then, with a sort of shame,
took a cross-road directly homeward ; a rolled up the number, and went off to
pause-a lull — took place among the the farm -house. It seems Kate was
turkeys. there, busy in the garret, unpacking a
1857.] Turkey Tracks. 155

bureau that had been stored there, with she had something to take to her. We
some of Peggy's foreign purchases, for found the old woman sitting up in the
summer wear, in the drawers. I did kitchen, and as full of talk as ever,
not know that. I found Melindy spread thongli an unlucky rheumatism kept her
ing yeast-cakes to dry on a table, just otherwise quiet.
by the north end of the house ; a hop- How do the turkeys conie on, Mrs.
vine in full blossom made a sort of Tucker ? ” said I, by way of conversa
porch-roof over the window by which tion .
she stood . “ Well, I declare, you han't heerd
6

" I've brought your book, Melindy," about them turkeys, hev ye ? You
said I. see they was doin ' fine, and father he
" Thank you, sir," returned she, crisp- went off to salt for a spell, so's to sce'f
11 .
.
' twoulln't stop a complaint he's got - I
* Flow pretty you look to-day ! ” con- do'no' but it's a spine in the back, -
descendingly remarked I. makes him kinder' faint by spells, so's he
* I don't thank you for that, sir ; loses his conscientiousness all to once ; so
6
** Praise to the face he left the chickens 'n' things for Melin
Is open disgrace ! ' " dy to boss, 'n ' she got somethin' else into
her head, ’n’ she left the door open one
was all the response . night, and them ten turkeys they up
66
Why, Melindy ! what makes you so and run away , I'xpect they took to the
cross ? ” inquired I, in a tone meant to woods, 'fore Melindy brought to mind
be tenderly reproachful,—in the mean how 't she hadn't shut the door. She's
time attempting to possess myself of her sot out fur to hunt 'em. I shouldn't won
hand ; for, 'to be honest, Polder, I had der'f she was out now, seein' it's arter
been a little sweet to the girl before sundown.”
kate drove her out of my head . The “ She a'n't nuther ! " roared the ter
hand was snatched away. I tried indif- rible Joe, from behind the door, where
ference. he had retreated at my coming. “ She's
" How are the turkeys to -day, Melin- settin ' on a four-barrel down by the
dy ? " well, an' George Bemont's a -buggin ' on
Here Joe, an enfant terrible, came her.”
upon the scene suddenly. Good gracious ! what a slap Mrs.
“ Them turkeys eats a lot, Mister Tacker fetched that unlucky child, with
Greene. Melindy says there's one on a long brown towel that hung at hand !
'em struts jes' like you, 'n' makes as and how he howled ! while Kate ex
much gabble." ploded with laughter, in spite of her
" Gobble ! gobble ! gobble ! ” echoed struggles to keep quiet.
an old turkey from somewhere ; I thought “ He is the dre'fullest boy !” whined
it was overhead, but I saw nothing. Me- Mrs. Tucker. “ Melindy tells how he
lindy threw her apron over her face sassed you 'tother day, Mr. Greene. I
and laughed till her arms grew reel. I shall hev to tewtor that boy ; he's got
picked up my hat and walked off. For to hev the rod, I guess ! ”
three days I kept out of that part of I bade Mrs. Tucker good night, for
the Smith demesne, I assure you ! Kate Kate was already out of the door, and,
began to grow mocking and derisive ; before I knew what she was about, had
she teased me from morning till night, taken a by-path in sight of the well;
and the more she teased me, the more and there, to be sure, sat Melindy, on a
I adored her. I was getting desperate, prostrate flour-barrel that was rolled to
when one Sunday night Kate asked me the foot of the big apple-tree, twirling
to walk down to the farm -house with her her fingers in pretty embarrassment,
a.ter tea, as Mrs. Tucker was sick, and and held on her insecure perch by the
156 Robin Hood. [ December,
stout arm of George Bemont, a hand- continued Peggy,—“so intelligent and
some brown fellow , evidently very well graceful; don't you think so, Sam ? ”
content just now. “ Aw, yes, well enough for a rustic ,"
“ Pretty,—isn't it ? ” said Kate. said I, languidly. “ I never could en
“ Very ,-quite pastoral,” sniffed I. dure red hair, though !”
We were sitting round the open door Kate stopped on the door-sill ; she
an hour after, listening to a whippoor- had risen to go up stairs.
will, and watching the slow moon rise “ Gobble ! gobble ! gobble ! ” mocked
over a hilly range just east of Centre- she. I had heard that once before !
ville, when that elvish little week ! Peter and Pegry roared ;-they knew it
week ! ” piped out of the wood that lay all ;-) was sold !
behind the house. “ Cure me of Kate Stevens ? ” Of
“That is hopeful,” said Kate ; “ I think course it did . I never saw her again
Melindy and George must have tracked without wanting to fight shy, I was so
the turkeys to their baunt, and scared sure of an allusion to turkeys. No, I
them homeward ." took the first down train . There are
“ George — who ? ” said Peggy. more pretty girls in New York, twice
66
George Bemont; it seems he is over, than there are in Centreville, I
what is your Connecticut phrase ?- console myself; but, by George! Polder,
sparkin' Melindy." Kate Stevens was charming “ Look out
66
• I'm very glad ; he is a clever fellow ," there ! don't meddle with the skipper's
said Peter. coils of rope! can't you sleep on deck
“ And she is such a very pretty girl," without a pillow ?

ROBIN HOOD .

There is no one of the royal heroes Mary, form a picture eminently health
of England that enjoys a more enviable ful and agreeable to the imagination ,
reputation than the bold outlaw of and commend him to the hearty favor of
Barnsdale and Sherwood . His chance all genial minds.
for a substantial immortality is at least But securely established as Robin
as gooil as that of stout Lion -Heart, wild Hoord is in popular esteem , his historical
Prince Hal, or merry Charles. His position is by no means well ascertained,
fame began with the yeomanry full five and his actual existence has been a sub
hundred years ago, was constantly in- ject of shrewd doubt and discussion .
creasing for two or three centuries, has “ A tale of Robin Hood ” is an old prov
extended to all classes of society, and, erh for the idlest of stories; yet all the
with some changes of aspect, is as great materials at our command for making up
as ever. Bishops, sheriffs, and game- an opinion on these questions are pre
keepers, the only enemies he ever had, cisely of this description. They consist,
have relinquished their ancient grudges, that is to say, of a few ballads of un
and Englishmen would be almost as known antiquity. These ballads, or
loath to surrender his exploits as any others like them , are clearly the author
part of the national glory. His free life ity upon which the statements of the
in the woods, his unerring eye and earlier chroniclers who take notice of
strong arm, his open hand and love of Robin Hood are founded. They are
fair play, his never forgotten courtesy, also, to all appearance, the original
his respect for women and devotion to source of the numerous and wide-spread
1857.] Robin Hood. 157

traditions concerning him ; which, uniess 1377 and 1384, and partly by his pupil
the contrary can be shown, must be re- Bower, abbot of St. Columba, about
garded, according to the almost universal 1450. Fordun has the character of a
rule in such cases, as having been sug- man of judgment and research, and any
gested by the very legends to which, in statement or opinion delivered by him
the vulgar belief, they afford an irresisti- would be entitled to respect. Of Bower
ble confirmation. not so much can be said. He largely
Various periods, ranging from the interpolated the work of his master, and
time of Richard the First to near the sometimes with the absurdest fictions. *
end of the reign of Edward the Second, Among his interpolations, and forming,
have been selected by different writers it is important to observe, no part of the
as the age of Robin Hood ; but (except original text, is a passage translated as
ing always the most ancient ballads, follows. It is inserted immediately after
which may possibly be placed within Fordun's account of the deteat of Simon
these limits) no mention whatever is de Montfort, and the punishments in
made of him in literature before the flicted on his adherents .
latter half of the reign of Edward the " At this time, [sc. 1266,] from the
Third . 66
Rhymes of Robin Hood " are number of those who had been deprived
then spoken of by the author of “ Piers of thcir estates arose the celebrated
Ploughman ” (assigned to about 1362) bandit Robert Hood, ( with Little John
as better known to idle fellows than and their accomplices,) whose achieve
pious songs, and from the manner of ments the foolish vulgar delight to cele
the allusion it is a just inference that brate in comedies and tragedies, while
such rhvines were at that time no novel- the ballads upon his adventures sung by
ties. The next notice is in Wyntown's the jesters and minstrels are preferred
Scottish Chronicle, written about 1420, to all others.
66
where the following lines occur — without Some things to his honor are also
any connection, and in the form of an related, as appears from this. Once
entry —under the year 1283 : on a time, when, having incurred the
66
Lytil Jhon and Robyne Hude anger of the king and the prince,
Wayth -men ware commendyd gude: he could bear mass nowhere but in
In Yugil-wode and Barnvsdale Barnsdale, while he was devoutly occu
Thai oysyd all this tyme thare trawale ." * pied with the service, (for this was his
At last we encounter Robin Hood in wont, nor would he ever suffer it to be
what may be called history; first of all in
interrupted for the most pressing occa
a passage of the “ Scotichronicon,” often sion,) he was surprised by a certain
quoted, and highly curious as containing sheriff and officers of the king, who had
the earliest theory upon this subject. often troubled him before, in the secret
The “ Scotichronicon " was written partly place in the woods where he was en
by Fordun, canon of Aberdeen , between gaged in worship as aforesaid . Some of
his men, who had taken the alarm , came
* A writer in the Edinburgh Reriew ( July , to him and begged him to fly with all
1847, p. 134) has cited an allusion to Robin speed. This, out of reverence for the
Hood, of a date intermediate between the host, which he was then most devoutly
passages from Wyntown and the one about
to be cited from Bower. In the year 1439, a adoring, he positively refused to do.
petition was presented to Parliament against But while the rest of his followers were
one Piers Venables of Aston, in Derbyshire, trembling for their lives, Robert, confid
* who having no liflode, ne sufficeante of ing in Him whom he worshipped, fell on
goodes, gadered and assembled unto him his enemies with a few who chanced to
many misdoers, beynge of his clothynge, and,
in manere of insurrection, wente into the * “ Legendis non raro incredibilibus aliis
wodes in that countrie, like as it hadde be que plusquam anilibus neniis ." — Hearno,
Robyn Mode and his meyné." - Rot. Parl. v. 16. Scotichronicon, p. xxix .
158 Robin Hood . [ December,
be with him, and easily got the better of date ; and it is further manifest that all
them ; and having enriched himself with three of these chroniclers had no other
their plunder and ransom, he was led authority for their statements than tradi
from that time forth to hold ministers of tional tales similar to those which have
the church and masses in greater vener- come down to our day. When , there
ation than ever, mindful of the common fore, Thierry, relying upon these chroni
saying, that cles and kindred popular legends, un
" God hears the man who often hears the
hesitatingly adopts the conjecture of
mass . ' " Mair, and describes Robin Hood as the
hero of the Saxon serfs, the chief of a
In another place Bower writes to the troop of Saxon banditti, that continued,
66
same effect : “ In this year ( 1266 ) the even to the reign of Cæur de Lion, a
dispossessed barons of England and the determined resistance against the Nor
royalists were engaged in fierce hostili- man invaders, -and when another able
ties. Among the former, Roger Morti- and plausible writer accepts and main
mer occupied the Welsh marches, and tains, with equal confidence, the hypoth
John Daynil the Isle of Ely. Robert esis of Bower, and exbibits the renowned
Hood was now living in outlawry among outlaw as an adherent of Simon de
the woodland copses and thickets." Montfort, who, after the fatal battle of
Mair, a Scottish writer of the first Evesham , kept up a vigorous guerilla
quarter of the sixteenth century, the warfare against the officers of the tyrant
next historian who takes cognizance of Henry the Third, and of his successor ,
our hero, and the only other that requires we must regard these representations,
any attention , has a passage which may which were conjectural three or four
be considered in connection with the centuries ago, as conjectures still, and
foregoing In bis · Historia Majoris even as arbitrary conjectures, unless one
9
Britanniæ” he remarks, under the reign or the other can be proved from the only
of Richard the First : * About this tiine authorities we have , the ballads, to bave
[ 1189–99). as I conjecture, the notorious a peculiar intrinsic probability: That
robbers , Robert Hood of England and neither of them possesses this intrinsic
Little John , lurked in the woods, spoiling probability may easily be shown ; but
the goods only of rich men . They slew first it will be advisable to notice another
nobody but those who attacked them , theory, which is more plausibly founded
or offered resistance in defence of their on internal evidence, and claims to be
property. Robert maintained by his confirmed by documents of unimpeach
plunder a hundred archers, so skiltul in able validity.
fight that four hundred brave men feared This theory has been propounded by
to attack them . He suffered no woman the Rev. John Hunter, in one of his
to be maltreated , and never robbed the. Critical and Historical Tracts." | Mr.
poor, but assisted them abundantly with Hunter admits that Robin Hood - lives 6

the wealth which he took from abbots."
It appears, then, that contemporaneous found in authentic contemporary chroni
history is absolutely silent concerning
Robin Hood ; that, excepting the casual
allusion in “ Piers Ploughman ,” he is first
mentioned by a rhyming chronicler who
wrote one hundred years after the latest
date at which he can possibly be sup
posed to have lived, and then by two
prose chroniclers who wrote about one
hundred and twenty-five years and two
hundred years respectively after that
only as a hero of song " ; that he is not
* In his Histoire de la Conquête de l'Angle
terre par les Normands, livr. xi . Thierry was
anticipated in his theory by Rarry, in a din.
sertation cited by Mr. Wright in his Essays :
Thèse de Littérature sur les vicissituiles et les
Transformations du Cycle populuire de Rubin
Hood . l'aris, 1832.
† London and Westminster Rerier , vol .
xxxiii. p . 424 .
No 4. The Ballad Iero,Robin Hood June,
1852 .
1857.] Robin Hood . 159

cles ; and that, when we find him men- Without asserting the literal verity of
tioned in history, 66" the information was all the particulars of this narrative, Mr.
derived from the ballads, and is not inde- Iuuter attempts to show that it contains
pendent of them or correlative with thein .” a substratum of fact. Edward the First,
While making these admissions, he ac- he informs us, was never in Lancashire
cords a considerable degree of credibility after he became king; and if Edward the
to the ballads, and particularly to the Third was ever there at all, it was not in
“ Lytell Geste,” the last two fits of which the early years of his reign. But Edward
he regards as giving a tolerably accurate the Secoud did make one single progress
account of real occurrences. in Lancashire, and this in the year 1323.
In this part of the story King Edward During this progress the king spent some
is represented as coming to Nottingham time at Nottingham , and took particular
to take Robin Hood . He traverses Lan- note of the condition of bis forests, and
cashire and a part of Yorkshire, and finds among these of the forest of Sherwood .
his forests nearly stripped of their deer, Supposing now that the incidents de
but can get no trace of the author of these tailed in the “ Lytell Geste ” really took
extensive deprelations. At last, by the place at this time, Robin Ilool mu - i have
advice of one of his foresters, assuming entered into the royal service betore the
with several of his knights the dress of a end of the year 1323. It is a singular.
monk, he proceeds from Nottingham to and in the opinion of Mr. Ilunior a very
Sherwood, and there soon encounters the pregnant coincidence, that in certain
object of his search. He submits to plun- Exchequer documents, coutaining al
der as a matter of course , and then an- counts of expenses in the king's house
nounces himself as a messenger sent to hokl, the name of Robyn Hole (or
invite Robin Hood to the royal presence. Robert Ilood) is found several times,
The outlaw receives this message with beginning with the 24th of March, 1324,
great respect. There is no man in the among the “porters of the chamber ” of
workıl, he says, whom 've loves so much the kiny , Ile received, with Simon
as his king. The monk is invited to re- Hood and others, the wages of three
main and dine ; and after the repast an pence a day. In August of the follow
exhibition of archery is ordered, in which iny year Robin Hood suffers deduction
a bad shot is to be punished by a buffet from his pay for non -attendance, bis ab
from the hand of the chieftain. Robin , sences grow frequent, and on the 22d of
having himself once failed of the mark, November heis discharged with a pres
ent of five shillings, “ poar cas gil ne poait
requests the monk to adininister the pen-
aiti. He receives a staggering blow, pluis travailler . ”
which roues his suspicions , recognizes the It remains still for Mr. Hunter to ac
king on an attentive consideration of his count for the existence of a band of seven
countenani't ', entreats grace for himself score of outlaws in the reign of Edward
and his followers, and is freely pardoned the Second, in or about Yorkshire . The
on conilition that he and they shall en- story and troublous reigns of the Plan .
ter into the king's service. To this he tagenets make this a matter of no difficulty.
agrees, and for fifteen months resides at Running his finger down the long list of
court. At the end of this time he has rebellions and commotions, he finds that
lost all his followers but two, and spent early in 1322 England was convulsed by
all his money, and feels that he shall the insurrection of Thomas, Earl of Lan
pine to death with sorrow in such a life. caster, the king's near relation, supported
He returns acordingly to the green- by many powerful noblemen . The Earl's
wood , collects his old followers around chief scat was the castle of Pontefract, in
him , and for twenty-two years maintains the West Riding of Yorkshire. He is
his independence in defiance of the power
of Edward . * Hunter, pp. 28, 35-38
160 Robin Hood . [ December,
said to have been popular, and it would who attained so extraordinary a notoriety
be a fair inference that many of his in song, a man living from one hundred
troops were raised in this part of Eng- to two hundred and fifty years later than
land. King Edward easily got the bet- Hereward , should be passed over without
ter of the rebels, and took exemplary one word of notice from any authorita
vengeance upon thein. Many of the tive historian. That this would not be
leaders were at once put to death, and so we are most fortunately able to de
the lives of all their partisans were in monstrate by reference to a real case
danger. Is it impossible, then, asks Mr. which furnishes a singularly exact paral
Hunter, that soine who had been in the lel to the present,-- that of the famous
army of the Earl secreted themselves in outlaw, Adam Gordon. In the year
the woods , and turned their skill in arvh- 1267 , says the continuator of Matthew
ery against the king's subjects or the Paris, a soldier by the name of Adam
king's deer ? that these were the men Gordon, who had lost his estates with
who for so long a time haunted Barns- other adherents of Simon de Montfort,
dale and Sherwood, and that Robin and refused to seck the mercy of the
Hood was one of them , a chief amongst king, established himself with others ir.
them , being really of a rank originally like circumstances near a woody and
somewhat superior to the rest ? ” . tortuous road between the village of
We have, then , three different hypoth- Wilton and the castle of Farnham , frca
eses concerning Robin Hood : one place which position he made forays into the
ing him in the reign of Richard the First, country round about, directing his at
another in that of Henry the Third , and tacks especially against those who were
the last under Edward the Second, and of the king's party. Prince Edward hac.
all describing hiin as a political foe to heard much of the prowess and honor
the established government. To all of able character of this man , and desired
these hypotheses there are two very ob- to have some personal knowledge of him .
vious and decisive objections. The first He succeeded in surprising Gordon with
ie, that Robin Hood, as already remarked, a superior force, and engaged him in sin
is not so much as named in contempora- gle combat, forbidding any of his own fol
ry history. Whether as the unsubdued lowers to interfere. They fought a long
leader of the Saxon peasantry, or insur- time, and the prince was so filled with
gent against the tyranny of Henry or admiration of the courage and spirit of
Edward , it is inconceivable that we his antagonist, that he promised him life
should not hear something of him from and fortune on condition of his surren
the chroniclers. If, as Thierry says, “ he dering. To these terms Gordon ac
bad chosen Hereward for his model,” ceded, his estates were restored , and Ed
it is unexplained and inexplicable why ward found him ever after an attached
his historical fate has been so different and faithful servant.t The story is ro
from that of Hereward . The hero of the mantic, and yet Adam Gordon was not
Camp of Refuge fills an ample place in
submit that it has been still more customary
the annals of his day ; his achievements to celebrate them in history, when they were
are also handed down in a prose ro
mance , which presents many points of of public importance. The case of private
and domestic stories is different.
resemblance to the ballads of Robin * Most remarkable of all would this be,
Hood. It would have been no wonder, should we adopt the vicws of Mr. Hunter,
if the vulgar legends about Hereward because we know, from the incidental testi
had utterly perished ; but it is altogeth- mony of Piers Ploughman, that only forty
er anomalous * that a popular champion years after the date fixed upon for the out
law's submission “ rhymes of Robin Hood "
* Mr. Hunter thinks it necessary to prove were in the mouth of every tavern lounger ;
that it was formerly a usage in England to and yet no chronicler can spare him a word.
celebrate real events in popular song. We † Matthew Paris, London, 1640, p. 1002.
1857.] Robin Hood. 161

made the subject of ballads. Caruit vate established hereditary name in the reigns
sacro . The contemporary historians of the Edwards. We find it very fre
however, all have a paragraph for him . quently in the indexes to the Record
He is celebrated by Wikes, the Chronicle Publications, and this although it does
of Dunstaple, the Waverley Annals, and not belong to the higher class of people.
we know not where else besides. That Robert was an ordinary Christian
But these theories are open to an ob- name requires no proof; and if it was, the
jection stronger even than the silence of combination of Robert Hood must have
history: They are contradicted by the been frequent also. We have taken no
spirit of the ballads. No line ofthese extraordinary pains to hunt up this com
songs breathes political animosity. There bination, for really the matter is alto
is no suggestion or reminiscence of wrong, gether too trivial to justify the expense
from invading Norman, or from the estab- of time; but since to some minds much
lished sovereign. On the contrary, Rob- may depend on the coincidence in ques
in loved no man in the world so well as tion, we will cite several Robin Hoods
his king. What the tone of these bal- in the reigns of the Edwards.
lads would have been, had Robin Hood 28th Ed. I. Robert Hood, a citizen of
been any sort of partisan, we may judge London , says Mr. Hunter, supplied the
from the mournful and indignant strains king's household with beer.
which were poured out on the fall of De 30th Ed. I. Robert Hood is sued for
Montfort. We should have heard of the three acres of pasture land in Throckley,
fatal field of Hastings, of the perfidy of Northumberland. (Rot. Orig. Abbrev.)
Henry, of the sanguinary revenge of 7th Ed . II. Robert Hood is surety for
Edward , -and not of matches at archery a burgess returned for Lostwithiel, Corn
and encounters at quarter-staff, the plun- wall. (Parliamentary Writs.)
dering of rich abbots and squabbles with 9th Ed. II. Robert Hood is a citizen
the sheriff. The Robin Hood of our of Wakefield , Yorkshire, whom Mr.
ballads is neither patriot under ban, nor Hunter (p. 47) " may be justly charged
proscribed rebel. An outlaw indeed he with carrying supposition too far " in
is, but an "outlaw for venyson,” like striving to identify with Robin the porter.
Adam Bell, and one who superadds to 10th Ed. III. A Robert Hood, of How
deer-stealing the irregularity of a genteel den, York, is mentioned in the Calenda
highway-robbery. rium Rot. Palent.
Thus much of these conjectures in Adding the Robin Hood of the 17th
general. To recur to the particular evi- Ed. II. we have six persons of that name
dence by which Mr. Hunter's theory is mentioned within a period of less than
supported, this consists principally in the forty years, and this circumstance does
name of Robin Hood being found among not dispose us to receive with great favor
the king's servants shortly after Edward any argument that may be founded upon
the Second returned from his visit to the one individual case of its occurrence .
north of his dominions. But the value of But there is no end to the absurdities
this coincidence depends entirely upon which flow from this supposition. We
the rarity of the name. * Now Hood, as are to believe that the weak and timid
Mr. Hunter himself remarks, is a well- prince, that had severely punished his
* Mr. Hunter had previously instituted a kinsman and his nobles, freely pardoned
similar argument in the case of Adam Bell, a yeoman, who, after serving with the
and doubtless the reasoning might be extend- rebels, had for twenty months made free
ed to Will Scathlock and Little John. With with the king's deer and robbed on the
a little more rummaging of old account-books highway ,—and not only pardoned him ,
we shall be enabled to “comprehend all
vagrom men.” It is a pity that the Sheriff but received him into service near his
of Nottingham could not have availed himself person . We are further to believe that
of the services of our “ detective. " the man who had led so daring and jovial
VOL . I. 11
162 Robin Hood. [ December,
a life, and had so generously dispensed this last supposition (which is no novelty)
the pillage of opulent monks, willingly possessed decidedly more likelihood than
entered into this service, doffed his Lin- any other. Its plausibility will be con
coln gren for the P'antagenet plush, and firmed by attending : o the apparent sig
consented to be enrolled among royal nification of the name Robin Hood.
Aunkies for three pence a day. And The natural refuge and stronghold of
again, admitting all this, we are finally the outlaw was the woods. Hence he is
obliged by Mr. Hunter's document to termed by Latin writers silvaticus, by the
concede that the stalworth archer ( who, Normans forestier. The Anglo- Saxon
according to the ballad, maintained him- robber or highwayman is called a wood.
self two-and-twenty years in the wood ) rover, ucaldgenga, and the Norse word
was worn out by his duties as “ proud for outlaw is exactly equivalent * It has
porter ” in less than two years, and was often been suggested that Robin Hood is
discharged a superannuated lackey, with a corruption, or dialectic form , of Robin
five shillings in his pocket, “poar cas qil of the Wood ; and when we remember
ne poait pluis travailler ” ! that wood is pronounced hood in some
To those who are well acquainted with parts of England t ( as whoop is pro
ancient popular poetry the adventure nounced hoop everywhere,) and that the
of King Edward and Robin Hood will outlaw bears in so many languages a
eem the least eligible portion of this cir- Dame descriptive of his habitation, this
cle of story for the foundation of an notion will not seem an idle fancy.
historical theory. The ballad of King Various circumstances, however, have
Edward and Robin Hood is but one ver- disposed writers of learning to look far
sion of an extremely multiform legend, ther for аa solution of the question before
of which tho tales of " King Edward and us . Mr. Wright propounds an hypothe
the Shepherd ” and “ King Edward and sis that Robin Hood was one among
the Hermit ” are other specimens ; and the personages of the early mythology
any one who will take the trouble to of the Teutonic peoples ” ; and a Ger
examine will be convinced that all these man scholar, in an exceedingly interest
stories are one and the same thing, the
personages being varied for the sake of * See Wright's Essays, ii . 207. “ The name
novelty, and the name of a recent or of Witikind, the famous opponent of Charle
magne, who always filed before his sight, con
of the reigning monarch substituted in cealed himself in the forests, and returned
successive ages for that of a predecessor. again in his absence, is no more than witu
Rejecting, then , as nugatory, every at- chint, in Old High Dutch, and signifies the
tempt to assign Robin Hood a definite son of the wood , an appellation which he could
never have received at his birth , since it de
position in history, what view shall we notes an exile or outlaw . Indeed, the name
adopt ? Are all these traditions absolute Witikind, though such a person seems to have
fictions, and is he himself a pure crea existed, appears to be the representative of
tion of the imagination ? Might not the all the defenders of his country against the
ballads under consideration have aa basis invaders ."
† Thus, in Kent, the Hobby -Horse is called
in the exploits of a real person, living in hooden, i. e. wooden . It is curious that Or .
the forests, somewhere and at some time 8 lando, in As You Like I, ( who represents the
Or, denying individual existence to Rob outlaw Gamelyn in the Tale of Gamelyn, a
in Hood, and particular truth to the tale which clearly belongs to the cycle of
adventures ascribed to him , may we not Robin Hood ,) should be the son of Sir Row
regard him as the ideal of the outlaw land de Bois. Robin de Bois ( says a writer in
class, a class so numerous in all the coun Notes and Queries, vi. 697 ) occurs in one of
tries of Europe in the Middle Ages ? Sue's novels “ as a well-known mythical
character, whose name is employed by
We are perfectly contented to form no French mothers to frighten their children.”
opinion upon the subject ; but if com | Kuhn, in Haupt's Zeitschrift für deutsches
pelled to express one, we should say that Alterthum , v. 472. The idea of a dorthern
 1857.] Robin Hood. 163

ing article which throws much light on seems to have been corrupted, or at least
the history of English sports, has endeav- their significance was so far forgotten,
ored to show specifically that he is in that distinct pastimes and ceremonials
name and substance one with the god were capriciously intermixed. At the
Woden . The arguments by which these beginning of the sixteenth century the
views are supported, though in their May sports in vogue were, besides a con
present shape very far from convincing, test of archery, four pageants , -- the King
are entitled to a respectful consideration . ham , or election of a Lord and Lady
The most important of these argu- of the May, otherwise called Summer
inents are those which are based on the King and Queen, the Morris -Dance, the
peculiar connection between Robin Hood Hobby-Horse, and the “ Robin Hood .”
and the month of May. Mr. Wright has Though these pageants were diverse in
justly remarked , that either an express their origin, they bad, at the epoch of
mention of this month , or a vivid de- which we write, begun to be confounded ;
scription of the season , in the older bal- and the Morris exhibited a tendency to
lads, shows that the feats of the hero absorb and blend them all, as, from its
were generally performed during this character, being a procession interspersed
part of the year. Thus, the adventure with dancing, it easily might do. We
of “ Robin Hood and the Monk ” befell
66
shall hardly find the Morris pure and
on " a morning of May.” “ Robin Hood simple in the English May -game; but
and the Potter ” and “Robin Hood and from a comparison of the two earliest
Guy of' Gisborne ” begin , like “ Robin representations which we have of this
Hood and the Monk, ” with a description sport, the Flemish print given by Douce
of the season when leaves are long, blos- in his “ Illustrations of Shakspeare ,” and
soms are shooting, and the small birds Tollett's celebrated painted window , (de
are singing ; and this season, though scribed in Johnson and Steevens's Shak .
called summer, is at the same time speare ,) we may form an idea of what
spoken of as May in “ Robin Hood was essential and what adventitious in
and the Monk , ” which , from the de- the English spectacle . The Lady is evi
scription there given , it needs must be. dently the central personage in both .
The liberation of Cloudesly by Adam She is, we presume, the same as the
Bel and Clym of the Clough is also Queen of May, who is the oldest of all
achieved " on a merry morning of May.” the characters in the May games, and
66

Robin Hood is, moreover, intimately as- the apparent successor to the Goddess of
sociated with the month of May through Spring in the Roman Floralia . In the
the gaines which were celebrated at that English Morris she is called simply The
time of the year. The history of these Lady, or more frequently Maid Marian,
games is unfortunately very defective, à name which, to our apprehension,
and hardly extends farther back than means Lady of the May, and nothing
the beginning of the sixteenth century. more . * A fool and a taborer seem also
By that time their primitive character to have been indispensable ; but the
other dancers had neither names nor
myth will of course excite the alarm of all peculiar offices, and were unlimited in
sensible, patriotic Englishmen, ( e. g. Mr. number. The Morris, then , though it
Hunter, at page 3 of his tract,) and the bare
suggestion of Woden will be received, in the lost in allegorical significance, would
same quarters, with an explosion of scorn . gain considerably in spirit and variety
And yet we find the famous shot of Eigill, by combining with the other shows.
one of the mythical personages of the Scan- Was it not natural, therefore, and in
dinavians, ( and perhaps to be regarded as one fact inevitable, that the old favorites of
of the forms of Woden ,) attributed in the bal
lad of Arlam Bel to William of Cloudesly , * Unless importance is to be attached to
who may be considered as Robin Hood under the consideration that May is the Virgin's
another name. month .
164 Robin Hood . [ December,
the populace, Robin Hood, Friar Tuck, which, beginning at the winter solstice, is
and Little John, should in the course of completed in the second month of spring ;
time displace three of the anonymous secondly, that the conquering Summer is
performers in the show ? This they had represented by the May King, or by the
pretty effectually done at the beginning Hobby -Horse (as also by the Dragon
of the sixteenth century ; and the Lady, Slayer, whether St. George, Siegfried,
who had accepted the more precise desig- Apollo, or the Sanskrit Indras ) ; and
nation of Maid Marian, was after that thirdly, that the Hobby -Horse in particu
generally regarded as the consort of Rob- lar represents the god Woden , who, as
in Hood, though she sometimes appeared well as Mars * among the Romans, is the
in the Morris without him. In like man- god at once of Spring and of Victory.
ner, the Hobby -Horse was quite early The essential point, all this being ad
adopted into the Morris, of which it mitted, is now to establish the identity
formed no original part, and at last even of Robin Hood and the Hobby - llorse.
a Dragon was annexed to the company. This we think we have shown cannot be
Under these circumstances we cannot be done by reasoning founded on the early
surprised to find the principal performers history of the games under consideration .
in the May pageants passing the one into Kuhn relies principally upon two modern
the other , —to find the May King, whose accounts of Christmas pageants. In one
occupation was gone when the gallant of these pageants there is introduced a
outlaw had supplanted him in the favor man on horseback , who carries in his
of the Lady, assuming the part of the hands a bow and arrows. The other fur
a

Hobby-Horse,* Robin Hood usurping Dishes nothing peculiar except a name :

the title of King of the May,t and the the ceremony is called a hoodening, and
Hobby -Horse entering into a contest the hobby -horse a hooden . In the rider
with the Dragon, as St. George. with bow and arrows Kuhn sees Robin
We feel obliged to regard this inter- Hood and the Hobby -Horse, and in the
change of functions among the characters name hooden (which is explained by the
in the English May -pageants as fortui- authority he quotes to mean wooden )
tous, notwithstanding the coincidence of he discovers a provincial form of rood
the May King sometimes appearing on en, which connects the outlaw and the
horseback in Germany, and notwith divinity:t It will be generally agreed
standing our conviction that Kuhn is between Summer and Winter celebrated by
right in maintaining that the May King, the Scandinavians in honor of May, a custom
the Hobby-Horse, and the Dragon - Slayer still retained in the Isle of Man, where the
are symbols of one mythical idea. This month is every year ushered in with a con
test between the Queen of Summer and the
idea we are compelled by want of space
Queen of Winter. ( Brand's Antiquities, by
barely to state, with the certainty of Ellis, i. 222, 257. ) A similar ceremony in
doing injustice to the learning and in Germany, occurring at Christmas, is noticed
genuity with which the author has sup- by Kuhn, p. 478.
ported his views. Kuhn has shown it to * Hence the spring begins with March .
be extremely probable, first, that the The connection with Mars suggests a possible
etymology for the Morris, —which is usually
Christmas games, which both in Ger explained, for want of something better, as a
many and England have a close resem Morisco or Moorish dance . There is some
blance to those of Spring, are to be con- resemblance between the Morris and the Salic
sidered as a prelude to the May sports, dance. The Salic games are said to have
and that they both originally symbolized been instituted by the Veian king Morrius, a
name pointing to Mars, the divinity of the
the victory of Summer over Winter,I Salii . -Kuhn , 488-493 .
* As in Tollett's window. The name Robin also appears to Kuhn
f In Lord Hailes's Extracts from the Book worthy of notice, since the horseman in the
of the Universal Kirk . May pageant is in some parts of Germany
* More openly exhibited in the mock battle called Ruprecht ( Rupert, Robert).
1857.] Robin Hood . 165

that these slender premises are totally in- ments, the obvious reason would appear
adequate to support the weighty conclu- to be that he was the hero of that loved
sion that is rested upon them . green -wood to which all the world re
Why the adventures of Robin Hood sorted, when the cold obstruction of
should be specially assigned , as they are winter was broken up, “ to do observance
in the old ballads, to the month of May, for a morn of May.”
remains unexplained. We have no ex- We do not, therefore, attribute much
quisite reason to offer, but we may per- value to the theory of Mr. Wright, that
haps find reason good enough in the the May festival was , in its earliest form ,
delicious stanzas with which some of a religious celebration, though, like such
these ballads begin. festivals in general, it possessed a double
“ In summer when the shawės be sheen ,
character, that of a religious ceremony ,
And leavès be large and long, and of an opportunity for the perform
It is full merry in fair forest ance of warlike games ; that, at such
To hear the fowlès song ; festivals, the songs would take the char
To see the deer draw to the dale, acter of the amusements on the occasion,
And leave the hillès hee,
And shadow them in the leaves green and would most likely celebrate warlike
Under the green -wood tree." deeds,-perhaps the myths of the patron
whom superstition supposed to preside
The poetical character of the season af- over them ; that, as the character of the
fords all the explanation that is required. exercises changed , the attributes of the
Nor need the occurrence of exhibitions patron would change also, and he who
of archery and of the Robin Hood plays was once celebrated as working wonders
and pageants, at this time of the year, oc- with his good axe or his elf -made sword
casion any difficulty. Repeated statutes, might afterwards assume the character of
from the thirteenth to the sixteenth cen- a skilful bowman ; that the scene of his
tury, enjoined practice with the bow, and actions would likewise change, and the
ordered that the leisure time of holidays person whose weapons were the bane of
should be employed for this purpose. dragons and giants, who sought them in
Under Henry the Eighth the custom was the wildernesses they infested, might be
still kept up, and those who partook in come the enemy only of the sheriff and
this exercise often gave it a spirit by his officers, under the ' grene-worle lefe ." "
assuming the style and character of It is unnecessary to point out that the
Robin Hood and his associates. In like language we have quoted contains, be
manner the society of archers in Eliza- yond the statement that warlike exercises
beth's time took the name of Arthur and were anciently combined with religious
his Knights; all which was very natural rites, a very slightly founded surmise, and
then, and would be now. None of all nothing more.
the merrymakings in merry England sur- Another circumstance, which weighs
passed the May festival. The return of much with Mr. Wright, goes but a very
the sun stimulated the populace to the little way with us in demonstrating the
accumulation of all sorts of amusements. mythological character of Robin Hood .
In addition to the traditional and appro This is the frequency with which his
priate sports of the season, there were, name is attached to mounds, wells, and
as Stowe tells us, divers warlike shows, stones, such as in the popular creed are
with good archers, morris-dancers, and connected with fairies, dwarfs, or giants.
other devices for pastime all day long. There is scarcely a county in England
and towards evening stage -plays and bon- which does not possess some monument
fires in the streets. A Play of Robin of this description . · Cairns on Black
Hood was considered “ very proper for down in Somersetshire, and barrows near
a May-game ” ; but if Robin Hood was to Whitby in Yorkshire and Ludlow in
peculiarly prominent in these entertain- Shropshire, are termed Robin Hood's
166 Robin Hood . [ December,
pricks or butts ; lofty natural eminences Records. And what do these names
in Gloucestershire and Derbyshire are prove ? The vulgar passion for bestow
Robin Hood's bills ; a huge rock near ing them is notorious and universal.
Matlock is Robin Hood's Tor ; ancient We Americans are too young to be well
boundary -stones, as in Lincolnshire, are provided with heroes that might serve
Robin Hood's crosses ; a presumed log- this purpose. We have no imaginative
gan, or rocking -stone, in Yorkshire, is peasantry to invent legends, no ignorant
Robin Hood's penny-stone; a fountain peasantry to believe them. But we have
near Nottingham , another between Don- the good fortune to possess the Devil in
caster and Wakefield, and one in Lan- common with the rest of the world ; and
cashire, are Robin Hood's wells ; a cave we take it upon us to say, that there is
in Nottinghamshire is his stable ; a rude not a mountain district in the land, which
natural rock in Hope Dale is his chair ; bas been opened to summer travellers,
a chasm at Chatsworth is his leap ; where a “ Devil's Bridge,” a “ Devil's
Blackstone Edge, in Lancashire, is bis Punch -bowl,” or some object with the
bed . " * In fact, his name bids fair to like designation , will not be pointed out.*
overrun every remarkable object of the We have taken no notice of the later
sort which has not been already appro- fortunes of Robin Hood in his true and
priated to King Arthur or the Devil ; original character of a hero of romance .
with the latter of whom , at least, it is Towards the end of the sixteenth cen
presumed, that, however ancient, he will tury Anthony Munday attempted to re
not dispute precedence. vive the decaying popularity of this king
“ The legends of the peasantry,” quoth of good fellows, who had won all his honors
Mr. Wright, “ are the shadows of a very as a simple yeoman , by representing him
remote antiquity.” This proposition , thus in the play of “ The Downfall of Robert,
broadly stated, we deny. Nothing is Earl of Huntington ” as a nobleman in
more deceptive than popular legends; disguise, outlawed by the machinations
and the “ legends ” we speak of, if they of his steward . This pleasing and suc
are to bear that name, have no claim to cessful drama is Robin's sole patent to
antiquity at all. They do not go beyond that title of Earl of Huntington, in con
the ballads. They are palpably of sub- firmation of which Dr. Stukeley fabri
sequent and comparatively recent origin. cated a pedigree that transcends even
It was absolutely impossible that they the absurdities of heraldry, and some
should arise while Robin Hood was a liv- unknown forger an epitaph beneath the
ing reality to the people. The archer of skill of a Chatterton . Tbose who desire
Sherwood who could barely stand King a full acquaintance with the fabulous
Edward's buffet, and was felled by the history of Robin Hood will seek it in the
Potter, was no man to be playing with well-known volumes of Ritson , or in
rocking -stones. This trick of naming those of his recent editor, Gutch, who
must have begun in the decline of his does not make up by superior discrimina
fame ; for there was a time when his pop- tion for his inferiority in other respects to
ularity drooped, and his existence was that industrious antiquary.
just not doubted,-not elaborately * See some sensible reinarks in the Gentle
tained by learned historians, and anti man's Magazine for March, 1793, by D. H.,
quarians deeply read in the Public that is, says the courteous Ritson, by Gough,
“ the scurrilous and malignant editor of that
* Edinburgh Review , vol. 86, p. 123. degraded publication . "
1857.] The Ghost Redivivus. 167

THE GHOST REDIVIVUS.

ONE of those violent, though short- pence less than the sum demanded by the
lived storms, which occasionally rage in women of the place. But the pretty
southern climates, had blown all night in mountaineers ask, in addition to their
the neighborhood of the little town of modest wages, a shelter for the night, a
San Cipriano, situated in a wild valley little straw or hay for their beds, and a
of the Apennines opening towards the small daily portion of oil and salt to sea
sea Under the olive -woods that cover son the bean - flour and chestnuts, which
those steep bills lay the olive -berries constitute their sole food . They are then
strewed thick and wide ; here and there perfectly contented.
a branch heavy -laden with balf -ripe fruit, The old Doctor had hired several of
torn by the blast from its parent tree, these damsels to assist in getting in his
stretched its prostrate length upon the olive crop, with the customary additional
ground. An abundant premature har- compact to spin some of the unwrought
vest had fallen, but at present there fax of the household when bad weather
were no means of collecting it ; for the prevented their out-of-door work, as well
deluging rains of the night bad soaked as regularly in the evening between
the ground, the grass, the dead leaves, early dusk and bed -time. Happy those
the fruit itself, and the rain was still fall- to whose lot it fell to be employed by
ing heavily. If gathered in that state . Dr. Morani ! Besides not beating down
the olives are sure to rot. their wages to the utmost, it was the
“ Pazienza ! ” in such disasters exclaim Doctor's wont, out of the exuberance
the inhabitants of the Riviera, with a of a warm -hearted, joyous nature, un
melancholy shrug of the shoulders. And chilled even by his sixty winters, to give
they needs must have patience until the to his serving men and maidens not only
weather clears and the ground dries, be- kind words and encouraging looks, but
fore they can secure such of the olives as also what made him perhaps still more
may happily be uninjured. popular, humorous jokes and droll sto
On the day we speak of, the 21st of ries.
December, 1852 , the proprietors of olive- The Doctor, indeed, concealed some
grounds in San Cipriano wore very blank thing of the philosopher under the garb
faces ; they talked sadly of the falling of a wag. His quaint sayings and doings
prices of the fruit and oil, and the olive- were frequently quoted with great relish
pickers crossed their hands and looked among this rural population. He had a
vacantly at the gray sky. way of his own of shooting facts and
In the spacious kitchen of Doctor Mo- truths into the uncultivated understand
rani were assembled a body of young ings of these laborers,-facts and truths
rosy lasses in laced bodices, and short that never otherwise could have pene
bright-colored petticoats, come down from trated so far ; he feathered his philosophi
the neighboring mountains for the olive- cal or moral arrows with a jest, and they
gathering, much as Irish laborers cross stuck fast.
over to England for the bay -making sca- Signora Martina, his wife, was a good
son . These girls arrive in troops from soul, and, though a strict housewife, was
their native villages among the hills, car- yet not so thrifty but that she could allow
rying on their heads a sackful of the flour a little of her abundance to overflow on
of dried beans and a lesser quantity of those in ber service ; and these crumbs
dried chestnuts. They offer their services from her table added many delicious bits
to the inhabitants of the valley at the rate to the bean - flour repasts. So, as we have
of four pence English a day ; about three said, happy the mountain girls taken into
168 The Ghost Redivivais. [ December,
Dr. Moranis service ! But specially blest fered with his more usual business at that
among the blest this year were two sis season .
For Beppo was one of the men
ters, to whom was allotted a bed, a real whose task it was to climb the olive- trees
bed, to sleep upon ! How came they to and shake down the olives for the women
be furnished with such a luxury ? Why, gathering below . He was distinguished
this season the Doctor had hired more among many as a skilful and valiant
than the usual number of pickers. The climber ; nor had his laurels been earned
outbuilding given them to sleep in was without perils and wounds. Occasionally
thus too sinall to accommodate all, so two he fell, and occasionally broke a bone or
were taken into the bouse, and a di- two,-episodes that had their compensa
ninutive closet, generally used by the tions. Beppo, then, on this particular
family as a þath-room, was turned into rainy afternoon , came in with a flat bas
a bed -room for the lucky couple. Now ket full of newly cut wood on his head,
for a description of the bed . Over the respectfully saluted the Padrona, and,
bath was placed an ironing-board, and after throwing down his load in a corner
upon this a mattress quite as narrow , of the kitchen, leisurely turned his basket
almost as hard , and far less smooth than topsy-turvy, seated himself upon it, and
the narrow plank on which it lay. The prepared to take his part in the general
width of the bed was just sufficient to conversation .
admit the two sisters, packed close, each At this moment the Doctor himself
lying on her side. As to turning, that entered, his cloak and hat dripping.
was simply out of the question ; but “ poor Heugh ! heugh ! ” he exclaimed , in a
labor in sweet slumber lock'd ” lay from voice of disgust, as his wife helped him
night till morning without once dreaming out of his covering ; “ what weather ! ”
of change of position. He went towards the fire, and spread out
Signora Martina, the first day or two, his hands to catch the heat of the glowing
expressed some fear lest they might not embers, on which sat a saucepan . “ Hor
rest well ; but both girls averred they rid weather ! The wind played the very
never in their lives had known so luxu- mischief with us last night ! ”
66
rious a bed , —and never should again , Many branches broken , Padrone ? "
unless their good fortune brought them asked Beppo, cagerly.
66
back another year to enjoy this sybarite Branches, eh ? Aye , aye ; saw
couch at Dr. Morani's. away ; burn away ; don't be afraid of a
Though irrelevant to our story, this supply failing," said the Doctor, dryly.
66
short digression may serve to illustrate Oh, Santa Maria ! ” sighed Signora
the Arcadian simplicity of babits prevail. Martina, in sad presentiment.
ing in these mountainous districts, and 66
Plenty of firewood, my dear soul, for
&
affords one more illustration of the axiom, two years," went on the Doctor. “ The
not more trite than true, that human en- big tree near the pigeon -house is head
joyment and luxury are all comparative. down, root up, torn , smashcd, prostrate,
Well ! the wet afternoon was wearing while good-for-nothing saplings are stand
on , beguiled by the young girls as best ing."
it might be, with the spindle and distaff, “ Oh Lord ! such a tree ! that never
and incessant chatter and laugh, save failed, bad year or good year, to give us
when they joined their voices in some a sack of olives, and often more ! ” cried
popular chant. Signora Martina was de- Signora Martina, piteously. “ More than
livering fresh flax to the spinners ; Ma- three generations old it was !” And she
rietta, the maid, was busy about the fire, began actually to weep. * Oil selling
in provident forethought for supper ; and for nothing, and the tree, the best of
Beppo, a barefooted , weather -beaten indi trees, to be blown down ! ”
vidual, was bringing in the wood he had 66
Take care," said the Doctor, “ take
been sawing this rainy day, which inter- care of repining ! Little misfortunes are
1857.] The Ghost Redivivus. 169

like a rash, which carries off bad humors “Tell us about the ghost your uncle
from a too robust body. Suppose the saw , ” suggested another of the girls.
storm bad laid my head low, and turned “ A ghost !” cried the Doctor. “ Any
up my toes ; what then , eh, little girls ? ” one here seen a ghost ? I wish I could
turning to the group of young creatures have such a chance ! What was it
standing with their eyes very wide open like ? ”
at the recital of the misdeeds of the tur- " I did not see it myself; I do but be
bulent wind, and now as suddenly off lieve what my uncle told me, ” said Pas
into a laugh at the image of the Doctor's qualina, with a gravity that had a shade
decease so represented. “ Ah ! you gig- of resentment.
gling set : Happy you that have no “ If one is only to speak of what one
9
branches to be broken, and no olive- has seen,” urged the prompter of the
66
pickers to pay ! Per Bacco ! you are uncle's ghost-story , “ tell the Padrone of
well off, if you only knew it ! " the witch that bewitched your sister . ”
He walked over to where his weeping “ Ah ! and so we have witches too ? ”
wife sat, laid his hand on her head, and groaned the Doctor.
stooping, kissed her brow . The girls “ As to that ,” resumed Pasqualina, with
laughed again. a dignified look, " I can't help believing
“ Bc quiet, all of you ! Do you think my own eyes, and those of all the people
that only smooth brows and bright of our village.”
cheeks ought to be kissed ? Be good “ Well,” exclaimed Doctor Morani,
loving wives, and I promise you your “ let us hear all about the witch . "
husbands will be blind to your wrin- “ You know, all of you," said Pasqua
kles. I could not be happy without the lina, “ what bad fits my sister had, and
sight of this well-known face ; it is the how she was cured by the miraculous
record of happiness for me. I wish you Madonna del Laghetto. So my sister
all our luck, my dears ! ” had no more fits, till Madalena, a spite
All simpered or laughed , and Mar- ful old woman , and whom everybody in
tina's brow smoothed . the village knows to be a witch, mum
“ Now I see that I can still make you bled some of her spells and
smile at misfortune,” continued the Doc- “ Hallo ! ” cried the Doctor, “ do you
tor, “ I will tell you something comfort- mean that witches have more power than
ing. As I came along, I met Paolo, the the Madonna ? ”
olive-merchant, who offered me a franc “ Oh ! Signor Dottore, you put things
more a sack than he did to any one else, so strangely ! just listen to the truth . So
because he knows our olives are of a this old woman came and mumbled some
superior quality." of her spells, and then my poor sister
Signora Martina smiled rather a grim fell down again, and has since had fits
smile at this compliment to her olives. as bad as ever. But ny father and
“ But I told him ," went on Doctor brother were not going to take it so
Morani, with a certain look of pride, easily, and they beat the bad old witch
" that we were not going to sell ; we in- till she couldn't move, and had to be car
terded to make oil for ourselves. And ried to the hospital. I hope she may die,
so we will, Martina, with the olives that with all my heart I do ! ”
have been blown down, hoping the best “ You had better hope she will get
for those still on the trees. Now let us well,” observed the Do« tor, coolly ; 66" for
talk of something more pleasant. Pas- if she should happen to die, my good
qualina, suppose you tell us a story ; Pasqualina, it would be very possible
you are our best hand, I believe. ” that your father and brother might be
“ I am sure, Signor Dottore, I have sent to the galleys.”
nothing worth your listening to,” an- Here Pasqualina set up a howl.
swered Pasqualina, blushing. “Do not afflict yourself just now,” re
 170 The Ghost Redivivus. [ December,
sumed Doctor Morani ; “ for, with all their (here Martina lowered her voice)—“the
good -will, they have not quite killed the people do not follow our holy religion,
woman . I saw her myself at the hospi- and are called, therefore, Protestants
tal; she is getting better, and when and heretics. They are industrious,
cured, I shall take care that she does notwithstanding, and clever in certain
not return among such a set of savages arts and manufactures, and it was from
as flourish in your village, Signorina some of them that Carlo learned the
Pasqualina. Excuse my boldness ,” – watchmaking trade. After staying away
and the Doctor took off bis skull-cap, three years, one fine day he came back,
in playful obeisance to the young girl, — bringing with him one of these Swiss,
66
" only advise your family another time Hans Reuter ; and the two, being great
to be less ready with their hands and friends, set up a shop together, where
their belief in every species of absurd- they made and sold watches and jewel
ity. Did not Father Tommaso tell you ry. There was not business enough in
but yesterday, that it was not right to San Cipriano to maintain them , but they
believe in ghosts or witches, save and made it out by selling at wholesale in
except the peculiar one or two it is his the neighboring towns.
66
business to know about, and who lived • For years all went smoothly with the
some thousand years ago ? There have partners, and their good luck began to
been none since, believe me." be wondered at, when one morning their
" Strange things do happen, however,” shop was not open at the usual hour.
observed Signora Martina, thoughtful. What was the matter ? what had hap
ly, — " things that neither priest nor law- pened ? there was Carlo Boschi knocking
yer can explain. What was that thing and shouting to Hans, and all in vain.
which appeared, twenty years ago,on I must tell you that Carlo lived else
the tower of San Ciprano ? ” The where, and Hans bad the care of the
Signora's voice sent a shudder through premises at night, sleeping in a little
all the women present. room at the back of the shop. The
“ A trick, and a stupid trick,” per- neighbors went out and advised Carlo
sisted her husband . to force the door. Very well. When
66
Not at all a trick, Doctor,” said Mar- they got in , they found Hans bound
tina, shaking her head. band and foot, and so closely gagged
• Did you see it yourself, Martina ?” that he was almost stifled . As soon as
“ No; but I saw those who did with he could speak, he said that just after
their own two blessed eyes." he bad shut up, the previous evening,
“ The Padrona is quite right,” said there was a knock at the door. He
Beppo, without leaving his basket. “ I, had scarcely opened it, when he was
for one, saw it." seized by two ruffians with blackened
This assertion produced such aa hubbub faces, who threw him down, gagged and
as sent the Doctor growling from the tied him , and then coolly proceeded to
room , and left Signora Martina at liberty ransack every place, packed up every
to comply with the general petition for bit of jewelry, every watch , and every
the story piece of money, and then decamped
“ It was twenty -five years last Easter with their booty, locking the door on the
since Hans Reuter came to San Cip- outside. The robbery took place on the
riano with Carlo Boschi, the son of old third and last day of the Easter Fair,
Pietro, of our town. Carlo had gone exactly when there was the greatest
away three years before to seek his noise and bustle from the breaking up
fortune. He went to Switzerland, itof booths, such an uproar of singing,
seems, a distant country beyond the brawling, and rolling of carts, and such
.
mountains, where the language is differ- a stream of people going in every direc
ent from ours, and where it is said "- tion, as made it easy for the thieves to
1857. ] The Ghost Redivivus . 171

escape detection. The police took a took still longer, he being old and very
great many depositions, and made a infirm , before he could get to the hos
great fuss; but there the matter ended. pital. When he did, it was too late ;
" To say the truth, it was like looking poor Hans was dead.
for a bird in a forest, considering the “ This was a sad business ; for, if the
number of strangers who had attended Padre had come in time, at all events
the fair; besides, the police, you know , Hans's soul would have been safe, and
at that time, were too busy dogging and his body buried in consecrated ground.
hunting down Liberals to care for track. My husband went to the Rector and told
ing only thieves. That, however, is no his Reverence that Hans had renounced
business of mine or yours ; and perhaps his errors, and bad made a full profes
it would have done no good to poor Hans, sion of the Catholic faith to him ; but
even if the criminals had been discover- his Reverence shook his head, and said
ed . He had got a great shock ; he could that was not the same thing as if Padre
not recover his spirits. Every one felt · Michele had received Hans into the true
for bim, because he was a kind , sociable fold . Then my husband said it was a
man , as well as industrious ; the only fault pity Hans should suffer because the
he had was being a Protestant. What Padre had been out of the way ; but his
that was no one exactly knew ; but it was Reverence always answered , “ No,' and
a great sin and a great pity, it seems. so 6· No ' it was. The clergy were not
Sure it is that Hans never went to con- to attend, and the body was to be put in .
fession , or to the communion . However, to the ground just as you might bury a
as time passed and brought no tidings dog. What could my husband do more ?
of the robbers, the poor man grow more So he went his way to his patients. It
thin and careworn every day. He would happened that he bad to see several, far
talk for hours about Switzerland, about in the country, and so did not come
his own village, his father's house, his home till late at night.
parents and relations. He had left them 6 You all know the tower which stands
so thoughtlessly, he said , he had scarcely upon the green knoll high above the
felt aa regret; yet now a yearning grew town. It is a relic of very old times,
within him to look once more upon those when San Cipriano had fortifications.
dear faces, and the verdant mountains It has been a ruin for more than a cen
of his country , upon its cool, rushing tury,-a mere shell, open to the sky, en
streams, wide, green pastures, and the circling a wide space of ground. A few
cows that grazed on them . He used to days before Hans's death, the Doctor
tell us, that, when he was alone, he heard had taken it into his head he would like
their bells in the distance, and they to hire this tower of the municipality, to
seemed to call him home. My husband which it belongs, to make a garden with
did not like all this, and said Hans in its walls. He had been to examine
ought to go at once, or it would be too the place a week previous, and had
late. But Hans delayed and delayed, in brought home the key of the gate, being
the hope of recovering some of his stolen determined to take it. Now this very
property, till one day he was taken very day after Hans died, and while my hus
ill and had to be carried to the hospital. band was away on his round of country
The Doctor attended him two or three visits, the Syndic sent to ask for the key,
times every day, and on the third was and I, thinking no harm , gave it. And
summoned in a great hurry. Morani now what do you think the Syndic want
went and hail a long conversation with ed the key for ? Just to dig a hole for
the poor dying fellow , and then Padre poor Hans. Yes, the body was carried
Michele of the Capuchin Convent was up there, and buried out of sight as
sent for. It was some time before the quickly as possible.
good monk could be found, and then it 66
“ When the Doctor came home he was
172 The Ghost Redivivus. [ December,
in a mighty passion with everybody ;- swear I saw it. I felt all ,-) can't tell
with the Rector, for refusing Hans a how,-a sort of hot cold, and as if my
place in the burial-ground ; with the Syn- legs were water. I don't know how I
dic, for allowing the tower to be used for managed to raise my gun, I did it quite
such a purpose ; and most of all with me, dreaming like; it went off with the big
for giving the key without asking why gest noise ever a gun made, and the
or wherefore. bullet must have gone through the very
“ However, what was done could not head of the ghost, for it waved its thin
be undone, and so no more was said arms fearfully. All the rest ran away,
It might have been a
about the matter. but I could not move a peg. Then a ter
week after, when some girls who had set rible voice roared out, • I shall not forget
out before daylight to go to the wood for thee, my friend ! I will visit thee again
leaves, came back much terrified, declar- before thy last hour ! Now begone ! ”
ing they had seen an apparition on the Beppo ceased speaking, and a shud
tower wall. Not one had dared to go on dering silence fell on the listeners. Mar
to the wood , but all ran back to the town tina alone ventured on the awe -struck
and spread the alarm . A dozen persons, whisper of " What was it like, Beppo ? ”
66

at least, came to our house to tell us “ A tall, white figure ; its arms spread
about it, and I promise you my husband out like a cross, -- s0, ” replied Beppo,
did not call it a stupid trick, as he did to rising from his basket, the better to
day. He looked very grave, and ex- personate the ghost. “ Jesu Maria ! ”
claimed, ' I don't wonder at it. No he shrieked, “ there it is ! O Lord,
doubt it is poor Hans, who does not like have mercy on us ! ”
to lie in unconsecrated ground. Don't And sure enough, standing against the
come to me -- it's none of my business,- door was a tall, white figure, its arms
I have only to do with the living ,—the spread out like the limbs of a cross.
dead belong to the clergy ,—this is the Screams, both shrill and discordant, filled
Rector's affair. If ever a ghost had a the room ,-Martini,Beppo, Marietta, and
right to walk , it is in such a case as this, the girls tumbling and rushing about dis
when a poor, honest fellow is denied traught with terror. Such a mad-like
Christian burial because an old monk's scene ! There was a trembling and a
legs refuse to carry him fast enough. shaking of the white figure for a moment,
Had Padre Michele been a younger then down it went in a heap to the floor,
man, all would have been right.' and out came the substantial proportions
“ There was quite a general commotion of Doctor Morani, looming formidable in
in the town, and at last, after a day or the dusky light of the expiring embers.
two, some of the young men determined The sound of his well-known vigorous
they would go and watch the next night, laugh resounded through the kitchen, as
to see if the thing appeared, or if it was he flung a bunch of pine branches on
more women's nonsense, and they went the fire . The next moment a bright
accordingly .” flame shot up, and the light as by magic
“ I was one of the party,” interrupted brought the scared group to their senses.
Beppo, taking the narrative out of his Each looked into the faces of the others
Padrona's mouth, stirred by the bigh- with an expression of rising merriment
wrought excitement of his recollections.
66
struggling with ghastly fear, and first a
“ I went with ten others, and I had a long -drawn breath of relief, and then a
good loaded gun with me . We hid our burst of laughter broke from all.
66
selves behind some bushes, and watched What a fright you have given us,
and watched. Nothing appeared, until Padrone ! ” Beppo was the first to say.
the girls, who had agreed to come at “ I hope so ," replied the Doctor, — " it
their usual hour for going to the wood , has only paid you off for the one you
passed by ; then, just at that moment, I gave me twenty years ago."
1857.] The Ghost Redivivus. 173

“ I !—you !—but how , caro Padrone ? " one of being such a monstrous block
“ Ah ! you haven't yet, I assure you , head ; so I was rather disagreeably start
recognized your old acquaintance, the led at hearing the crack of a gun, and
identical ghost which you favored with a feeling the tingling of a bullet whizzing
bullet . Would you like to see it once past my ear . You nearly made me into
more ? " a real ghost, friend Beppo ; for I assure
“ Pazienza ! ” exclaimed Beppo, “ for you, you are a capital shot. Ever since
once ,-twice ;—but three times, -no, that that memorable aim , I have entertained
is more than enough. I am satisfied the deepest respect for you as a marks
with what I have seen . " man ; it was not your fault that I am
“ Do you know what you have seen ? ”
66
here now to make this confession. I
resumed the Doctor. Very well, listen ducked my head below the wall in case
to me. a volley was to follow the signal gun.
When the Rector refused to let
poor Hans lie in the same ground with When I peeped again , there remained
many of our townspeople who (God one solitary figure before the tower, im
rest their souls !) had lived scarcely so movable as a stone pillar. O noble
honest a life as he had done, I was far Beppo, it was thou !
from imagining that he was to be thrust " " I must get rid of this fellow one way
into the tower, of all places in the world , or other,' thought I, “ but not by shaking
and just when it was well known I had my stick -covered sheet, or I shall have
bargained for it. That's the way I am another bullet.' So I raised myself breast
to be used, is it ? ' thought I. • I'll play high above the wall, made a trumpet of
you a trick, my friends, worth two of my hands, and roared out the fearful
yours, one that will make you glad to promise I have kept this evening. As
give honest Hans hospitality in your soon as I saw my enemy's back, I left
churchyard . my station , and never played the ghost
“ I waited a few days, till the moon again .”
should rise late, so as to be shining “ A pretty folly for a man of forty ! "
about one or two in the morning, the cried Signora Martina, still smarting un
time when the girls set off for the woods. der her late fright. Why, a boy would
I provided myself with aa sheet, and took be well whipped for such aa trick . There's
care to be in the tower before midnight. no knowing what to believe in a man
I tied two long sticks together in the like you , —no saying when you are in
shape of a cross, stuck my hat on the top, earnest or in fun ."
and threw the linen over the whole ; and After a moment's silence, the lady
a capital ghost it was. Then I got under asked in a softer tone, “ Now do tell me,
the drapery, pushing up the stick, so as Morani, is it true that poor Hans recant
to give the idea of a gigantic human fig . ed before he died ? "
ure with extended arms. I had no fear “ My dear, if Padre Michele had been
of being discovered, for the Syndic had in time, we should have been sure of the
the key still in his possession, and I had fact. You see the Rector did not think
made good my entrance through a gap I knew enough of theology to decide. 1
in the wall sufficiently well concealed by am a submissive child of the Church ,"
brambles. I suppose I need not tell you , replied the husband. “ As for the ghost,
young women , how brave your mothers I took care to provide against forgetting
were. My ghostship heard of the young my folly. On the top shelf of the labo
men's project, and encouraged them , ratory I hung up the bullet-pierced hat ;
never thinking there was one among and the bullet itself I ticketed with the
them so stupid as to carry aa gun to fight date and kept in my desk . Who wants
a ghost with ; for how can you shoot a to see the ghost's hat ?” — and the Doctor
ghost, when it has neither Aesh nor drew aa hat from under the sheet still
blood ? It was impossible to suspect any lying on the floor, and exhibited it to the
 174 The Golden Mile. Stone. [ December,
curious eyes of all present, making them “ Knowing what you know by experience,
admire the neat hole in it. The bullet suppose you hint to any one inclined to
itself he took out of his waistcoat pocket, spectre-shooting, that he runs the risk of
and holding it towarus Beppo, asked , killing a live man, and having two ghosts
“ Hadn't it a mark ? ” on his hands,—the ghost of the poor
“Yes, sir, I cut a cross on it,” replied devil shot, and one of himself hanged
the abashed climber of olive-trees ; "and for murder. As for you, young girls, re
by all the Saints, there it is still ! Pas- member that when you go forth to meet
qualina, my girl," turning to her, “ your the perils of dark mornings, you are
uncle's ghost will turn out to be some- more likely to encounter dangers from
body .” flesh and blood than from spirits."
Bravo ! Beppo,” cried the Doctor.

THE GOLDEN MILE - STONE .

[ The Milliarium Aureum , or Golden Mile- Stone, was a gilt marble pillar in the Forum at
Rome, from which, as a central point, the great roads of the empire diverged through the
several gates of the city, and the distances were measured .)

LEAFLESS are the trees; their purple branches

Spread themselves abroad, like reefs of coral
Rising silent
In the Red Sea of the winter sunset.

From the hundred chimneys of the village,

Like the Afrcet in the Arabian story,
Smoky columns
Tower aloft into the air of amber.

At the window winks the flickering fire- light;

Here and there the lamps of evening glimmer,
Social watch - fires,
Answering one another through the darkness.
On the hearth the lighted logs are glowing,
And, like Ariel in the cloven pine-tree,
For its freedom
Groans and sighs the air imprisoned in them .

By the fireside there are old men seated,

Seeing ruined cities in the ashes,
Asking sadly
Of the Past what it can ne'er restore them .

By the fireside there are youthful dreamers,

Building castles fair with stately stairways,
Asking blindly
Of the Future what it cannot give them .
1857. ] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 175

By the fireside tragedies are acted

In whose scenes appear two actors only,
Wife and husband,
And above them God, the sole spectator.

By the fireside there are peace and comfort,

Wives and children, with fair, thoughtful faces,
Waiting, watching
For aa well-known footstep in the passage.

Each man's chimney is his Golden Mile - Stone ,

Is the central point from which he measures
Every distance
Through the gateways of the world around him .

In his farthest wanderings still he sees it ;

Hears the talking flame, the answering night-wind,
As he heard them
When he sat with those who were , but are not.

Happy he whom neither wealth nor fashion ,

Nor the march of the encroaching city,
Drives an exile
From the hearth of his ancestral homestead !

We may build more splendid habitations,

Fill our rooms with paintings and with sculptures,
But we cannot
Buy with gold the old associations.

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST - TABLE .

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.

I REALLY believe some people save he said, “and a man driving a sprink
their bright thoughts, as being too pre- ling-machine through it.”
cious for conversation. What do you “ Why don't you tell the man he is
think an admiring friend said the other wasting that water ? What would be the
day to one that was talking good things, – state of the highways of life, if we did
»
good enough to print ? 66" Why," said he, not drive our thought-sprinklers through
" you are wasting merchantable litera- them with the valves open , sometimes ?
ture , a cash article, at the rate, as nearly “ Besides, there is another thing about
as I can tell, of fifty dollars an hour. ” this talking, which you forget. It shapes
The talker took him to the window and our thoughts for us ;-the waves of con
asked him to look out and tell what he versation roll them as the surf rolls the
saw . pebbles on the shore. · Let me modi.
“ Nothing but a very dusty street," fy the image a little. I rough out my
176 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ December,
thoughts in talk as an artist models in sermons except what they preach them
clay. Spoken language is so plastic , – selves. A dull preacher might be con
you can pat and coax, and spread and ceived, therefore, to lapse into a state of
shave, and rub out, and fill up, and stick quasi heathenism, simply for want of
on so easily, when you work that soft religious instruction. And on the other
material, that there is nothing like it for hand, an attentive and intelligent hearer,
modelling. Out of it come the shapes listening to a succession of wise teachers,
which you turn into marble or bronze in might become actually better educated in
your immortal books, if you happen to theology than any one of them . We are
write such. Or, to use another illustra- all theological students, and more of us
tion, writing or printing is like shooting qualified as doctors of divinity than have
with a rifle ; you may hit your reader's received degrees at any of the universi
mind , or miss it ; - but talking is like ties.
playing at a mark with the pipe of 'an en It is not strange, therefore, that very
gine; if it is within reach, and you have good people should often find it difficult,
time enough, you can't help hitting it.” if not impossible, to keep their attention
The company agreed that this last il- fixed upon a sermon treating feebly a
lustration was of superior excellence, or subject which they have thought vigor
in the phrase used by them, “ Fust-rate.” ously about for years, and heard able
I acknowledged the compliment, but men discuss scores of times. I have
gently rebuked the expression. “ Fust- often noticed, however, that a hopelessly.
rate,” “ prime,” “ a prime article," " a su- dull discourse acts inductively, as electri
perior piece of goods,” “ a handsome cians would say, in developing strong
garment,” a gent in a flowered vest,”- mental currents. I am ashamed to think
all such expressions are final. They with what accompaniments and variations
blast the lineage of him or her who ut- and fioriture I have sometimes followed
ters them, for generations up and down. the droning of a heavy speaker, -not
There is one other phrase which will willingly,—for my habit is reverential, —
soon come to be decisive of a man's but as a necessary result of a slight con
social status, if it is not already : “ That tinuous impression on the senses and the
tells the whole story.” It is an expres- mind, which kept both in action without
sion which vulgar and conceited people furnishing the food they required to work
particularly affect, and which well-mean- upon . If you ever saw a crow with a
ing ones, who know better, catch from king -bird after him, you will get an
them . ' It is intended to stop all debate , image of a dull speaker and a lively
like the previous question in the General listener. The bird in sable plumage
Court. Only it don't ; simply because flaps heavily along his straight-forward
“that ” does not usually tell the whole, course , while the other sails round him ,
por one half of the whole story. over him , under him, leaves him, comes
-It is an odd idea, that almost all back again, tweaks out a black feather,
our people have had a professional edu- shoots away once more, never losing
cation . To become a doctor a man must sight of him, and finally reaches the
study some three years and hear a thou- crow's perch at the same time the crow
sand lectures, more or less. Just how does, having cut a perfect labyrinth of
much study it takes to make a lawyer I loops and knots and spirals while the
cannot say, but probably not more than slow fowl was painfully working from one
this. Now most decent people hear one end of his straight line to the other.
hundred lectures or sermons (discourses) [ I think these remarks were received
on theology every year, —and this, twenty, rather coolly. A temporary boarder from
thirty, fifty years together. They read the country, consisting of a soinewhat
a great many religious books besides. more than middle -aged female, with a
The clergy, however, rarely hear any parchment forehead and a dry little “ fri
1857.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 177

sette ” shingling it, a sallow neck with a have learned utterly to distrust them , and
necklace of gold beads, a black dress never allow them to bully me out of a
too rusty for recent grief, and contours thought or line.
in basso-rilievo, left the table prema- This is the philosophy of it. (Here
(
turely, and was reported to have been the number of the company was dimin
very virulent about what I said. So I ished by a small secession.) Any new
went to my good old minister, and re formula which suddenly emerges in our
peated the remarks, as nearly as I could consciousness has its roots in long trains
remember them , to him . He laughed of thought; it is virtually old when it
good -naturedly, and said there was con- first makes its appearance among the
siderable truth in them . He thought recognized growths of our intellect.
he could tell when people's minds were Any crystalline group of musical words
wandering, by their looks. In the earlier has had a long and still period to form
years of his ministry he had sometimes in . Here is one theory.
noticed this, when he was preaching ;- But there is a larger law which per
very little of late years. Sometimes, haps comprehends these facts. It is this.
when his colleague was preaching, he The rapidity with which ideas grow old
observed this kind of inattention ; but in our memories is in a direct ratio to
after all, it was not so very unnatural. the squares of their importance. Their
I will say , by the way, that it is a rule apparent age runs up miraculously, like
I have long followed, to tell my worst the value of diamonds, as they increase
thoughts to my minister, and my best in magnitude. A great calamity, for in
thoughts to the young people I talk stance, is as old as the trilobites an hour
with.] after it has happened. It stains back
I want to make a literary confes ward through all the leaves we have
sion now, which I believe nobody has turned over in the book of life , before its
made before me. You know very well blot of tears or of blood is dry on the
that I write verses sometimes, because page we are turning. For this we seem
I have read some of them at this table. to have lived ; it was foreshadowed in
( The company assented ,-- two or three dreams that we leaped out of in the
of them in a resigned sort of way, as I cold sweat of terror ; in the “ dissolving
thought, as if they supposed I had an views ” of dark day - visions; all omens
epic in my pocket, and was going to read pointed to it ; ail paths led to it. After
half a dozen books or so for their benefit.) the tossing half -forgetfulness of the first
-I continued. Of course I write some sleep that follows such an event, it
lines or passages which are better than comes upon us afresh, as a surprise, at
others; some which, compared with the waking ; in a few moments it is old
others, might be called relatively excel- again ,-old as eternity.
lent. It is in the nature of things that I [I wish I had not said all this then
should consider these relatively excellent and there. I might have known bet
lines or passages as absolutely good. So ter. The pale schoolmistress, in her
much must be pardoned to humanity. mourning dress, was looking at me, as I
Now I never wrote a “ good ” line in noticed, with a wild sort of expression.
my life, but the moment after it was All at once the blood dropped out of
written it seemed a hundred years old. her cheeks as the mercury drops from a
Very commonly I had a sudden convic- broken barometer- tube, and she melted
tion that I had seen it somewhere . Pos- away from her seat like an image of
sibly I may have sometimes unconsciously snow ; a slung -shot could not have
stolen it, but I do not remember that I brought her down better. God forgive
ever once detected any historical truth me !
in these sudden convictions of the anti- After this little episode, I continued, to
quity of my new thought or phrase. I some few that remained balancing tea
VOL . I. 12
178 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ December,
spoons on the edges of cups, twirling -So we have not won the Good
knives, or tilting upon the hind legs of wood cup ; au contraire, we were a “ bad
their chairs until their heads reached the fifth ,” if not worse than that ; and trying
wall, where they left gratuitous adver- it again, and the third time, has not yet
tisements of various popular cosmet- bettered the matter. Now I am as patri
ics.] otic as any of my fellow -citizens,—too
When a person is suddenly thrust into patriotic in fact, for I have got into hot
any strange, new position of trial, he water by loving too much of my coun
finds the place fits him as if he had beentry ; in short, if any man, whose fighting
measured for it. He has committed a weight is not more than eight stone four
great crime, for instance, and is sent to pounds, disputes it, I am ready to dis
the State Prison. The traditions, pre- cuss the point with him . I should havo
scriptions, limitations, privileges, all the gloried to see the stars and stripes in
sharp conditions of his new life, stamp front at the finish . I love my country,
themselves upon his consciousness as the and I love horses. Stubbs's old mezzo
signet on soft wax ;-a single pressure is tint of Eclipse hångs over my desk, and
enough. Let me strengthen the image a Herring's portrait of Plenipotentiary ,
little. Did you ever happen to see whom I saw run at Epsom ,-over my
that most soft-spoken and velvet -handed fireplace. Did I not elope from school
steam -engine at the Mint ? The smooth to see Revenge, and Prospect, and Little
piston slides backward and forward as a John , and Peacemaker run over the
lady might slip her delicate finger in and race -course where now yon suburban
out of a ring. The engine lays one of village flourishes, in the year eighteen
its fingers calmly, but firmly, upon a bit hundred and ever -so-few ? Though I
of metal ; it is a coin now, and will re- never owned a horse, have I not been
member that touch, and tell a new race the proprietor of six equine females, of
about it, when the date upon it is crusted which one was the prettiest little “Mor
over with twenty centuries. So it is gin ” that ever stepped ? Listen, then, to
that a great silent-moving misery puts a an opinion I have often expressed long
new stamp on us in an hour or a mo- before this venture of ours in England.
ment,—as sharp an impression as if it Horse-racing is not a republican institu
had taken balf a lifetime to engrave it. tion ; horse -trotting is. Only very ricb
It is awful to be in the hands of the persons can keep race -horses, and every
wholesale professional dealers in misfor- body knows they are kept mainly as
tune ; undertakers and jailers magnetize gambling implements. All that matter
you in a moment, and you pass out of about blood and speed we wont dis
the individual life you were living into cuss ; we understand all that ; useful,
the rhythmical movements of their hor- very,—of course,-great obligations to
rible machinery. Do the worst thing the Godolphin “ Arabian,” and the rest.
you can, or suffer the worst that can be I say racing horses are essentially gam
thought of, you find yourself in a cate- bling implements, as much as roulette
gory of humanity that stretches back as tables. Now I am not preaching at this
far as Cain , and with an expert at your moment ; I may read you one of my ser
elbow that has studied your case all out mons some other morning; but I main
beforehand, and is waiting for you with tain that gambling, on the great scale, is
his implements of hemp or mahogany. not republican. It belongs to two phases
I believe, if a man were to be burned in of society , —a cankered over-civilization,
any of our cities to -morrow for heresy, such as exists in rich aristocracies, and
there would be found a master of cere- the reckless life of borderers and adven
monies that knew just how many fagots turers, or the semi-barbarism of a civiliza
were necessary, and the best way of ar- tion resolved into its primitive elements.
ranging the whole matter. Real republicanism is stern and severe ;
1857.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. 179

its essence is not in forms of government, have, with a thoroughly provincial con
but in the omnipotence of public opin- ceit, which some of us must plead guilty
ion which grows out of it. This public to .
opinion cannot prevent gambling with We may beat yet. As an American,
dice or stocks, but it can and does com- I hope we shall. As a moralist and oc
pel it to keep comparatively quiet. But casional sermonizer, I am not so anxious
horse-racing is the most public way of about it. Wherever the trotting horse
gambling ; and with all its immense at- goes, he carries in his train brisk omni
tractions to the sense and the feelings, – buses, lively bakers' carts, and therefore
to which I plead very susceptible,—the hot rolls, the jolly butcher's wagon , the
disguise is too thin that covers it, and cheerful gig, the wholesome afternoon
everybody knows what it means. Its drive with wife and child , —all the forms
supporters are the Southern gentry, —fine of moral excellence, except truth, which
fellows, no doubt, but not republicans does not agree with anykind of horse
exactly, as we understand the term ,-a flesh . The racer brings with him gam
few Northern millionnaires more or less bling, cursing, swearing, drinking, the
thoroughly millioned, who do not repre- eating of oysters, and a distaste for mob
sent the real people, and the mob of caps and the middle-aged virtues.
sporting men, the best of whom are com- And by the way , let me beg you not
monly idlers, and the worst very bad to call a trotting match a race, and not
neighbors to have near one in a crowd, to speak of a “ thorough-bred ” as a
or to meet in a dark alley. In Eng- “ blooded ” horse, unless he has been re
land, on the other hand, with its aris- cently phlebotomized. I consent to your
tocratic institutions, racing is a natural saying “ blood horse,” if you like. Also,
growth enough ; the passion for it spreads if, next year, we send out Posterior and
downwards through all classes, from the Posterioress, the winners of the great
Queen to the costermonger. London is national four-mile race in 7 18 ), and
like a shelled corn -cob on the Derby they happen to get beaten, pay your
day, and there is not a clerk who could bets, and behave like men and gentle
raise the money to hire a saldle with men about it, if you know how .
an old hack under it that can sit down [ I felt a great deal better after blow
on his office-stool the next day without ing off the ill-temper condensed in the
wincing. above paragraph. To brag little , —to
Now just compare the racer with the show well,—to crow gently, if in luck,
trotter for a moment. The racer is in- to pay up, to own up, and to shut up,
cidentally useful, but essentially some- if beaten , are the virtues of a sporting
thing to bet upon, as much as the thim- man , and I can't say that I think we
ble -rigger's “ little joker.” The trotter have shown them in any great perfection
is essentially and daily useful, and only of late.]
incidentally a tool for sporting men. Apropos of horses. Do you know
What better reason do you want for how important good jockeying is to au
the fact that the racer is most cultivated thors ? Judicious management ; letting
and reaches his greatest perfection in the public see your animal just enough,
England , and that the trotting horses of and not too much ; holding him up hard
America beat the world ? And why when the market is too full of him ; let
should we have expected that the pick— ting him out at just the right buying in
if it was the pick - of our few and far- tervals ; always gently feeling his mouth ;
never slacking and never jerking the
between racing stables should beat the
pick of England and France ? Throw rein ;—this is what I mean by jockeying.
over the fallacious time-test, and there -When an author has a number of
was nothing to show for it but a natural books out, a cunning hand will keep
kind of patriotic feeling, which we all them all spinning, as Signor Blitz does
180 The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. [ December,
his dinner-plates ; fetching each one up, unstable reputations, you fellows who all
as it begins to “ wabble ,” by an adver- feel sure that your names will be house
tisement, a puff, or a quotation. hold words aa thousand years from now.
-Whenever the extracts from a “ A thousand years is a good wbile ,”
living writer begin to multiply fast in the said the old gentleman who sits opposite,
papers, without obvious reason , there is a thoughtfully.
new book or a new edition coming. The -Where have I been for the last
extracts are ground -bait. three or four days ? Down at the Island,
-Literary life is full of curious phe- deer-shooting . — How many did I bag ? I
nomena. I don't know that there is any- brought home one buck shot. — The Island
thing more noticeable than what we may is where ? No matter. It is the most
call conventional reputations. There is a splendid domain that any man looks up
tacit understanding in every community on in these latitudes. Blue sea around it,
of men of letters that they will not dis- and running up into its heart, so that the
turb the popular fallacy respecting this little boat slumbers like a haby in lap,
or that electro -gilded celebrity. There while the tall ships are stripping naked
are various reasons for this forbearance : to fight the hurricane outside, and storm
one is old ; one is rich ; one is good -na- stay -sails banging and flying in ribbons.
tured ; one is such a favorite with the Trees, in stretches of miles ; beeches,
pit that it would not be safe to hiss him oaks, most numerous ;-many of them
from the manager's box. The venerable hung with moss, looking like bearded
augurs of the literary or scientific temple Druids; some coiled in the clasp of huge,
may smile faintly when one of the tribe dark -stemmed grape - vines. Open patch
is mentioned ; but the farce is in general es where the sun gets in and goes to sleep,
kept up as well as the Chinese comic and the winds come so finely sifted that
scene of entreating and imploring a man they are as soft as swan's down. Rocks
io stay with you, with the implied com- scattered about,—Stonehenge -like mon
pact between you that he shall by no oliths. Fresh -water lakes ; one of them,
means think of doing it. A poor wretch Mary's lake, crystal-clear, full of flash
he must be who would wantonly sit down ing pickerel lying under the lily-pads
on one of these bandbox reputations. like tigers in the jungle. Six pounds of
A Prince-Rupert's-drop, which is a tear ditto one morning for breakfast. Ego
of unannealed glass, lasts indefinitely, fecit.
if you keep it from meddling hands; The divinity -student looked as if he
but break its tail off, and it explodes would like to question my Latin. No,
and resolves itself into powder. These sir, I said , you need not trouble your
celebrities I speak of are the Prince- self. There is a higher law in grammar ,
Rupert's-drops of the learned and polite not to be put down by Andrews and
world . See how the papers treat them ! Stoddard . Then I went on.
What an array of pleasant kaleidoscopic Such hospitality as that island bas
phrases, that can be arranged in ever so seen there has not been the like of in
many charming patterns, is at their ser- these our New England sovereignties.
vice ! How kind the “ Critical Notices ” . There is nothing in the shape of kind
-where small authorship comes to pick ness and courtesy that can make life
up chips of praise, fragrant, sugary, and beautiful, which has not found its home
sappy - always are to them ! Well, life in that ocean -principality. It has wel
would be nothing without paper-credit comed all who were worthy of welcome,
and other fictions; so let them pass cur- from the pale clergyman who came to
rent. Don't steal their chips ; don't breathe the sea -air with its medicinal
puncture their swimming-bladders ; don't salt and iodine, to the great statesman
come down on their pasteboard boxes ; who turned his back on the affairs of
don't break the ends of their brittle and empire, and smoothed his Olympian fore
1857.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 181

head, and flashed his white teeth in mer- As he drifts on the blast, like a wind -wafted
riment over the long table, where his leaf,
O'er the gulfs of the desolate sea .
wit was the keenest and his story the
best.
Thus drifting afar to the dim -vaulted caves
[ I don't believe any man ever talked Where life and its ventures are laid,
like that in this world . I don't believe The dreamers who gaze while we battle tho
I talked just so ; but the fact is, in re waves
porting one's conversation , one cannot May see us in sunshine or shade;
help Blair -ing it up more or less, iron Yet true to our course , though our shadow
grow dark,
ing out crumpled paragraphs, starching We'll trim our broad sail as before,
limp ones, and crimping and plaiting a And stand by the rudder that governs the
little sometimes; it is as natural as prink- bark,
ing at the looking-glass.] Nor ask how we look from the shore !
How can a man help writing poe
try in such a place ? Everybody does -Insanity is often the logic of an
write poetry that goes there . In the state accurate mind overtasked . Good mental
archives, kept in the library of the Lord machinery ought to break its own wheels
of the Isle, are whole volumes of unpub- and levers, if anything is thrust among
lished verse , -some by well-known hands, them suddenly which tends to stop them
and others, quite as good, by the lastpeo- or reverse their motion . A weak mind
ple you would think of as versifiers , — does not accumulate force enough to
men who could pension off all the genu- hurt itself ; stupidity often saves a man
ine poets in the country, and buy ten from going mad. We frequently see
acres of Boston common, if it was for sale, persons in insane hospitals, sent there in
with what they had left. Of course I had consequence of what are called religious
to write my little copy of verses with the mental disturbances. I confess that I
rest ; here it is, if you will hear me read think better of them than of many who
it. When the sun is in the west, ves- hold the same notions, and keep their
sels sailing in an easterly direction look wits and appear to enjoy life very well,
bright or dark to one who observes them outside of the asylums. Any decent per
from the north or south, according to the son ought to go mad, if he really holds
tack they are sailing upon. Watching such or such opinions. It is very much to
them from one of the windows of the his discredit in every point of view , if he
great mansion , I saw these perpetual does not. What is the use of my saying
changes, and moralized thus : what some of these opinions are ? Per
haps more than one of you hold such as
As I look from the isle, o'er its billows of I should think ought to send you straight
green over to Somerville, if you have any logic
To the billows of foam -crested blue,
Yon bark , that afar in the distance is seen ,
in your beads or any human feeling in
Half dreaming, my eyes will pursue : your hearts. Anything that is brutal,
Now dark in the shadow, she scatters the cruel, heathenish, that makes life hopeless
spray for the most of mankind and perhaps for
As the chaff in the stroke of the flail; entire races,-anything that assumes the
Now white as the sea-gull, she flies on her necessity of the extermination of instincts
way ,
The sun gleaming bright on her sail. which were given to be regulated ,-n0
matter by what name you call it,-DO
Yet her pilot is thinking of dangers to shun ,- matter whether a fakir, or a monk , or
Of breakers that whiten and roar ; a deacon believes it,-if received, ought
How little he cares, if in shadow or sun to produce insanity in every well-regu
They see him that gaze from the shore !
He looks to the beacon that looms from the lated mind. That condition becomes a
reef, normal one, under the circumstances. I
To the rock that is under his lee, am very much ashamed of some people
 182 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ December,
for retaining their reason, when they drifts, and sat behind females that would
know perfectly well that if they were not have the window open when one could
the most stupid or the most selfish of not wink without his eyelids freezing
human beings, they would become non- together. Perhaps I shall give you some
compotes at once. of my experiences one of these days ;-I
[ Nobody understood this but the theo will not now , for I have something else
logical student and the schoolmistress. for you .
They looked intelligently at each other ; Private theatricals, as I have figured
but whether they were thinking about in them in country lyceum -halls, are one
my paradox or not, I am not clear.- thing, -and private theatricals, as they
It would be natural enough. Stranger may be seen in certain gilded and fres
things have happened . Love and Death coed saloons of our metropolis, are an
enter boarding houses without asking the other . Yes, it is pleasant to see real
price of board, or whether there is room gentlemen and ladies, who do not think it
for them . Alas, these young people are necessary to mouth, and rant, and stride,
poor and pallid ! Love should be both like most of our stage heroes and hero
rich and rosy , but must be either rich or ines, in the characters which show off
rosy . Talk about military duty ! What their graces and talents ; most of all to
is that to the warfare of a married maid- see a fresh, unrouged , unspoiled , high
of-all-work , with the title of mistress, and bred young maiden , with a lithe figure,
an American female constitution , which and a pleasant voice, acting in those
collapses just in the middle third of life, love -dramas that make us young again
and comes out vulcanized India -rubber, to look upon , when real youth and
if it happen to live through the period beauty will play them for us.
when health and strength are most want- -Of course I wrote the prologae I
ed ? ] was asked to write. I did not see the
-Have I ever acted in private the- play, though. I knew there was a young
atricals ? Often. I have played the part lady in it, and that somebody was in love
of the “ Poor Gentleman ,” before a great with her, and she was in love with him,
many audiences, -more, I trust, than I and somebody (an old tutor, I believe)
shall ever face again. I did not wear a wanted to interfere, and, very naturally,
stage -costume, nor a wig, nor mousta- the young lady was too sharp for him.
ches of burnt cork ; but I was placarded The play of course ends charmingly;
and announced as a public performer, there is a general reconciliation, and
and at the proper hour I came forward all concerned form a line and take each
with the ballet-dancer's smile upon my others’ hands, as people always do after
countenance, and made my bow and they have made up their quarrels,-and
acted my part. I have seen my name then the curtain falls, -if it does not
stuck up in letters so big that I was stick, as it commonly does at private
ashamed to show myself in the place by theatrical exhibitions, in which case a
daylight. I have gone to a town with a boy is detailed to pull it down, which he
sober literary essay in my pocket, and does, blushing violently.
seen myself everywhere announced as Now , then, for my prologue. I am not
the most desperate of buffos,-one who going to change my cæsuras and caden
was obliged to restrain himself in the full ces for anybody ; so if you do not like
exercise of his powers, from prudential the heroic, or iambic trimeter brachy
considerations. I have been through as catalectic, you had better not wait to
many hardships as Ulysses, in the pur hear it .
suit of my histrionic vocation. I have THIS IS IT.
travelled in cars until the conductors all A Prologue ? Well, of course the ladies
knew me like a brother. I have run off know ;
the rails, and stuck all night in snow- I have my doubts . No matter ,–here we go !
r
1857.) The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table.
What is a Prologue ? Let our Tutor teach :
Pro means beforehand ; logos stands for
speech.
' Tis like the harper's prelude on the strings,
The prima donna's courtesy ere she sings ;
Prologues in metre are to other pros
As worsted stockings are to engine -hose.
" The world's a stage," — As Shakspeare said,
one day ;
The stage a world - was what he meant to
sav.
The outside world's a blunder, that is clear ;
The real world that Nature meant is here .
Here every foundling finds its lost mamma ;
Each rogue, repentant, melts his stern papa ;
Misers relcut, the spendthriſt's debts are paid,
The cheats are taken in the traps they laid ;
One after one the troubles all are past
Till the fifth act comes right side up at last,
.When the young couple, old folks, rogues,
and all,
Join bands, so happy at the curtain's fall.
- Here suffering virtue ever finds relief,
And black-browed ruftians always come to
grief.
- When the lorn damsel, with a frantic
screech ,
And cheeks as hueless as a brandy -peach,
Cries, “ Help, kyind Heaven ! ” and drops
upon her knees
On the green - baize, -beneath the ( canvas )
trees ,
See to her side avenging Valor ily:
“ Ha ! Villain ! Draw ! Now, Terraitorr, yield
or die ! ”
-When the poor hero flounders in despair ,
Some dear lost uncle turns up millionnaire ,
Clasps the young scapegrace with paternal
joy,
Sobs on his neck , “My boy ! MY BOY !! MY
BOY !!! "
Ours, then, sweet friends, the real world to
night
Of love that conquers in disaster's spite.
Ladies, attend ! While woful cares and doubt
Wrong the soft passion in the world without,
Though fortune scow ), though prudence in
terfere,
One thing is certain : Love will triumph here !
Lords of creation , whom your ladies rule,
The world's great masters, when you're out
of school ,
Learn the brief moral of our evening's play :
Man has his will ,-but woman has her way !
While man's dull spirit toils in smoke and
fire,
Woman's swift instinct threads the electric
wire ,
183
The magic bracelet stretched beneath the
waves
Beats the black giant with his score of slaves.
All earthly powers confess your sovereign
art
But that one rebel,-woman's wilful heart.
All foes you master ; but a woman's wit
Lets daylight through you ere you know
you're hit.
So, just to picture what her art can do,
Hear an old story made as good as new .
Rudolph, professor of the headsman's trade,
Alike was famous for his arm and blade.
One day a prisoner Justice had to kill
Knelt at the block to test the artist's skill.
Bare -armed, swart- visaged, gaunt, and shaggy
browed,
Rudolph the headsman rose above the crowd.
His falchion lightened with a sudden gleam ,
As the pike's armor flashes in the stream.
He sheathed his blade ; he turned as if to go ;
The victim knelt, still waiting for the blow .
“ Why strikest not ? Perform thy murderous
act,"
The prisoner said. ( His voice was slightly
cracked .)
“ Friend, I have struck,” the artist straight
replied ;
“ Wait but one moment, and yourself decide."
He held his snuff-box , — " Now theu, if you
please ! ”
The prisoner sniffed, and, with a crashing
sneeze ,
Off his head tumbled ,-bowled along the
floor ,
Bounced down the steps ;—the prisoner said .
no more !
Woman ! thy falchion is a ittering eye ;
If death lurks in it, oh , how sweet to die !
Thou takest hearts as Rudolph took the head ;
We die with love, and never dream we're
dead !
The prologue went off very well, as I
bear. No alterations were suggested by
the lady to whom it was sent, so far as I
know. Sometimes people criticize the
poems one sends them , and suggest all
sorts of improvements. Who was that
silly body that wanted Burns to alter
“ Scots wha hae, " so as to lengthen the
last line, thus ?
u Edward ! ” . Chains and slavery !.
Here is a little poem I sent a short
time since to a committee for a certain
celebration. I understood that it was to
184 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ December,
be a festive and convivial occasion , and are not, however, those generally enter
ordered myself accordingly. It seems tained by this community. I have there
the president of the day was what is fore consulted the clergyman of this
called a “ teetotaller. " I received a note place, who has made some slight changes,
from him in the following words, contain which he thinks will remove all objec
ing the copy subjoined, with the emen tions, and keep the valuable portions of
dations annexed to it. the poem . Please to inform me of your
“ Dear Sir,-Your poem gives good charge for said poem . Our means are
satisfaction to the committee. The senti limited, etc., etc., etc.
ments expressed with reference to liquor “ Yours with respect.”

HERE IT IS,–WITH THE SLIGHT ALTERATIONS !

Come! fill a fresh bumper,-for why should we go
logwood
While the mouth still reddens our cups as they flow ?
decoction

Pour out the mob juices still bright with the sun,
dye stuff
Till o'er the brimmed crystal the rubin shall run .
half -ripened apples
The purple globed -etustors their life- dews have bled ;
taste sugar of lead
How sweet is the kerth of the fragrance - they shed !
rank poisons wines !!!

For summer's list posts lie hid in the witness

stable boys smoking long - nines
That were garnered by maidete#obarighed through thevinos
scowl howl scoff speer

Then a cmile, and a glace, and a telet, and a ekosi,

strychnine and whiskey , and ratsbane and beer
For all the good wigo And we've some of ti hors !
In cellar, in pantry, in attic , in hall,
Down , down , with the tyrant that masters us all !
Leag live the same correst that douglas festa!!!

The company said I had been shabbily
treated, and advised me to charge the
committee double,—which I did . But as
I never got my pay, I don't know that it
made much difference. I am a very
particular person about having all I
write printed as I write it. I require to
see a proof, a revise, a re -revise, and a
double re-revise, or fourth-proof rectified
impression of all my productions, espe-
cially verse. Manuscripts are such puz- serious purport, and applies to such as
zles! Why, I was reading some lines
near the end of the last number of this
journal, when I came across one begin-
ning
" The stream flashes by,"
Now as no stream had been mentioned ,
I was perplexed to know what it meant
It proved, on inquiry, to be only aa mis
print for “ dream .” Think of it ! No
wonder so many poets die young.
I have nothing more to report at this
time, except two pieces of advice I gave
to the young women at table. One re
lates to a vulgarism of language, which I
grieve to say is sometimes heard even
from female lips. The other is of more
contemplate a change of condition ,
matrimony, in fact.
-The woman who " calc'lates " is lost.
-Put not your trust in money, but put
your money in trust.
1857.] Thomas Carlyle. 185

THOMAS CARLYLE.

THOMAS CARLYLE is a name which upon the minds of Coleridge, Carlyle,

no man of this generation should pro- and others, produced finally these great
nounce without respect ; for it belongs to and memorable results. It is but justice,
one of the high -priests of modern litera- bowever, to recognize Coleridge as the
ture, to whom all contemporary minds pioneer of the new era. His fine meta
are indebted, and by whose intellect physical intellect and grand imagination,
and influence a new spiritual cultus nurtured and matured in the German
has been established in the realm of let- schools of philosophy and theology, re
ters. is yet impossible to estimate produced the speculations of their great
either the present value or the remote thinkers in a form and coloring which
issues of the work which he has accom- could not fail to be attractive to all
plished. We see that a revolution in seeking and sincere minds in England.
all the departments of thought, feeling, The French Revolution and the Ency
and literary enterprise has been silently clopedists had already prepared the
achieved amongst us, but we are yet ig- ground for the reception of new thought
norant of its full bearing, and of the final and revelation . Hence Coleridge, as
goal to which it is hurrying us. One writer and speaker, drew towards his
thing, however, is clear respecting it : centre all the young and ardent men of
that it was not forced in the hot-bed of his time,-and among others, the sub
any possible fanaticism , but that it grew ject of the present article. Carlyle,
fairly out of the soil, a genuine product however, does not seem to have profited
of the time and its circumstances. It was, much by the spoken discourses of the
indeed, a new manifestation of the hid- master ; and in his “ Life of Sterling " he
den forces and vitalities of what we call gives an exceedingly graphic, cynical,
Protestantism ,—an assertion by the liv- and amusing account of the oracular
ing soul of its right to be heard once meetings at Highgate, where the phi
more in a world which seemed to ignore losopher sat in his great easy -chair, sur
its existence, and had set up a ghastly rounded by his disciples and devotees,
skeleton of dry bones for its oracle and uttering, amid floods of unintelligible,
God. It was that necessary return to mystic eloquence, those radiant thoughts
health , earnestness, and virtuous en- and startling truths which warrant his
deavor which Kreeshna speaks of in the claim to genius, if not to greatness. It
Hindoo Geeta : “ Whenever vice and is curious to observe how at this early
corruption have sapped the foundations period of Carlyle's life, when all the
of the world, and men have lost their talent and learning of England bowed
sense of good and evil, I, Kreeshna, at these levees before the gigantic spec
make myself manifest for the restoration ulator and dreamer, he, perhaps alone,
of order, and the establishment of jus- stood aloof from the motley throng of
tice, virtue, and piety.” And so this worshippers,—with them , but not of
literary revolution, of which we are them , coolly analyzing every sentence
speaking, brought us from frivolity to delivered by the oracle, and sufficiently
earnestness, from unbelief and all the learned in the divine lore to separate
dire negations which it engenders, to a the gold from the dross. What was
sublime faith in human duty and the good and productive he was ready to
providence of God. recognize and assimilate; leaving the
We have no room here to trace either opium pomps and splendors of the dis
the foreign or the native influences which course, and all the Oriental imagery
operating as antagonism or as inspiration with which the speaker decorated his
186 Thomas Carlyle. [ December,
bathos, to those who could find profit tent to chew the cud of parish sermons,
therein . It is still more curious and and swallow , Sunday after Sunday, the
sorrowful to see this great Coleridge, en- articles of common belief, he seemed an
dowed with such high gifts, of so various eccentric comet. But a better astrono
learning, and possessing so marvellous my recognized him as a fixed star, for
and plastic a power over all the forms he was unmistakable by that fitting Few
of language, forsaking the true for the whose verdict is both history and immor
false inspiration, and relying upon a tality.
vile drug to stimulate his large and lazy But a greater than Coleridge, destined
intellect into action . Carlyle seems to to assume a more commanding position,
have regarded him at this period as a and exercise a still wider power over the
sort of fallen demigod ; and although he minds of his age, arose in Thomas Car
sneers, with an almost Mephistophelean lyle. The son of a Scotch farmer, he had
distortion of visage, at the philosopher's in his youth a hard student's life of it,
half inarticulate drawling of speech, at and many severe struggles to win the
his snuffy, nasal utterance of the ever- education which is the groundwork of
recurring “ omnject ” and “ sumnject,” yet his greatness. His father was a man of
gleams of sympathy and affection, not keen penetration, who saw into the heart
unmixed with sorrow , appear here and of things, and possessed such strong intel
there in what he says concerning him . lect and sterling common sense that the
And indeed , although the iminense fame country people said " he always hit the
of Coleridge is scarcely warranted by his nail on the head and clinched it.” His
printed performances, he was, neverthe- mother was a good, pious woman , who
less, worthy both of affection and hom- loved the Bible, and Luther's “ Table
age. For whilst we pity the weakness Talk,” and Luther, — walking humbly
and disease of his moral nature, under and sincerely before God, her Heavenly
the influence of that dark and terribly Father. Carlyle was brought up in the
enchanting weed, we cannot forget either religion of his fathers and his country ;
his personal amiabilities or the great ser- and it is easy to see in his writings how
vice which he rendered to letters and to deep a root this solemn and earnest be
society. Carlyle himself would be the lief had struck down into his mind and
last man to deny this laurel to the brows character. He readily confesses how
of “ the poet, the philosopher, and the much he owes to his mother's early
divine,” as Charles Lamb calls him ; and teaching, to her beautiful and beneficent
it is certain that the thinking of Cole- example of goodness and holiness ; and
ridge helped to fashion Carlyle's mind, he ever speaks of her with affection and
and not unlikely that it directed him to reverence . We once saw him at a
a profounder study of German writers friend's house take up a folio edition of
than he had hitherto given to them . the “ Table Talk " alluded to, and turn
Coleridge had already formed a school over the pages with a gentle and loving
both of divinity and philosophy. He hand, reading here and there his moth
had his disciples, as well as those far er's favorite passages, now speaking
off gazers who looked upon him with of the great historic value of the book,
amazement and trembling, not knowingand again of its more private value, as
what to make of the phenomenon , or his mother's constant companion and sol
whether to regard him as friend or foe ace . It was touching to see this pitiless
to the old dispensation and the estab- intellect , which had bruised and broken
lished order of things. He had written the idols of so many faiths, to which
books and poems, preached Unitarian Luther himself was recommended only
sermons, recanted , and preached philoso- by his bravery and self-reliance and
phy and Church -of- Englandism . To the the grandeur of his aims, -it was touch
dazzled eyes of all ordinary mortals, con- ing, we say, and suggestive also of many
1857.] Thomas Carlyle. 187

things, to behold the strong, stern man although I had not at that time knowl
paying homage to language whose spirit edge enough of mathematics to make
was dead to him , out of pure love for his the task other than a Hercules- labor
dear mother, and veneration also for the to me, yet I read and wrought un
great heart in which that spirit was once ceasingly, through all obstructions and
alive that fought so grand and terrible a difficulties, until I had accomplished it ;
battle. Carlyle likes to talk of Luther, and no Tamerlane conqueror ever felt
and, as his “ Hero Worship ” shows, half so happy as I did when the ter
loves his character. A great, fiery, an- rible book lay subdued and vanquished
gry gladiator, with something of the before me.” This trifling anecdote is a
bully in him , —as what controversialist key to Carlyle's character. To achieve
has not, from Luther to Erasmus, to his object, he exhausts all the means with
Milton, to Carlyle himself ?-a dread in his command ; never shuffles through
image -breaker, implacable as Cromwell, his work, but does it faithfully and sin
but higher and nobler than he, with the cerely, with a man's heart and hand .
tenderness of a woman in his inmost This outward sincerity in the conduct of
heart, full of music, and glory, and spirit his executive faculty has its counterpart
uality, and power ; his speech genuine in the inmost recesses of his nature . We
and idiomatic, not battles only, but con- feel that this man and falsehood are im
quests; and all his highest, best, and possible companions, and our faith in
gentlest thoughts robed in the divine bis integrity is perfect and absolute .
garments of religion and poetry ;—such Herein lies his power ; and here also lies
was Luther, and as such Carlyle delights the power of all men who have ever
to behold him . Are they not akin ? moved the world . For it is in the nature
We assuredly think so . For the blood of truth to conserve itself, whilst false
of this aristocracy refuses to mix with hood is centrifugal, and flies off into in
that of churls and bastards, and flows anity and nothingness. It is by the
pure and uncontaminated from century cardinal virtue of sincerity alone — the
to century, descending in all its richness truthfulness of deed to thought, of ef
and vigor from Piromis to Piromis. The fect to cause that man and nature are
ancient philosopher knew this secret well sustained . God is truth ; and he who is
enough when he said a Parthian and a most faithful to truth is not only likest
Libyan might be related, although they to God , but is made a participator in the
had no common parental blood ; and that divine nature. For without truth there
a man is not necessarily my brother be- is neither power, vitality, nor perma
cause he is born of the same womb. nence .

We find that Carlyle in his student- Carlyle was fortunate that he was
life manifested many of those strong comparatively poor, and never tempted,
moral characteristics which are the attri- therefore, as a student, to dissipate his fine
butes of all his heroes. An indomitable talents in the gay pursuits of university
courage and persistency meet us every- life. Not that there would have been
where in his pages,-persistency, and also any likelihood of his running into the
careful painstaking, and patience in sift- excesses of ordinary students, but we
ing facts and gathering results. He dis- are pleased and thankful to reflect that
ciplined himself to this end in early he suffered no kind of loss or harm in
youth, and never allowed any study or those days of his novitiate. It is one of
work to conquer him . Speaking to us the many consolations of poverty that it
once in private upon the necessity of protects young men from snares and
persevering effort in order to any kind vices to which the rich are exposed ; and
of success in life, he said , “When I our poor student in his garret was pre
was a student, I resolved to make my- served faithful to his vocation, and laid
up day by day those stores of knowledge,
self master of Newton's ' Principia,' and
188 Thomas Carlyle. [ December,
experience, and heavenly wisdom which to be lifted only, if ever, by Carlyle him
he has since turned to so good account. self. Through the want of companion
It would be deeply interesting, if we ship, he fell back naturally upon books
could learn the exact position of Car- and his own thoughts. Here he wrote
lyle's mind at this time, with respect to some of his finest critical essays for the
those profound problems of human na- reviews, and that “rag of a book , " as
ture and destiny which have occupied the he calls it, the “ Life of Schiller .” The
greatest men in all ages, ceaselessly and essays show a catholic, but conserva
pertinaciously urging their dark and tive spirit, and are full of deep thought
solemn questions, and refusing to de. They exhibit also a profoundly philo
part until their riddles were in some sophical mind, and a power of analysis
sort solved . That Carlyle was haunted which is almost unique in letters. They
by these questions, and by the pitiless are pervaded likewise by an earnestness
Sphinx herself who guards the portals and solemnity which are perfectly He
of life and death , —that he had to meet braic ; and each performance is present
her face to face, staring at him with her ed in a style decorated with all the
stony, passionless eyes,-that he had to costly jewels of imagination and fancy,
grapple and struggle with her for victory, --a style of far purer and more genuine
—there are proofs abundant in his writ- English than any of his subsequent writ
ings. The details of the struggle, how- ings, which are often marred, indeed, by
ever, are not given us ; it is the result gross exaggerations, and still grosser vio
only that we know. But it is evident that lations of good taste and the chastities of
the progress of his mind from the bog- language. What made these writings,
region of orthodoxy to the high realms however, so notable at the time, and so
of thought and faith was a slow proceed- memorable since, was that sincerity and
ing,—not rolled onward as with the char- deep religious feeling of the writer which
iot-wheels of a fierce and sudden revo- we have already alluded to. Here were
lution, but gradually developed in a long new elements introduced into the cur
series of births, growths, and deaths. rent literature, destined to revivify it,
The theological phraseology sticks to and to propagate themselves, as by semi
him , indeed, even to the present time, nal vitality, in myriad minds and forms.
although he puts it to new uses ; and it These utterances were both prophetic
acquires in his hands a power and sig- and creative, and took all sincere minds
nificance which it possessed only when, captive. Dry and arid in comparison
of old, it was representative of the di- as Egyptian deserts, lay all around him
vine. the writings of his contemporaries. No
Carlyle was matured in solitude. Em- living waters flowed through them ; all
erson found him, in the year 1833, on the was sand, and parch, and darkness. The
occasion of his first visit to England, liv- contrast was immense : a living soul and
ing at Craigenputtock, a farm in Niths- a dead corpse ! Since the era of the Com
dale, far away from all civilization , and monwealth, — the holy, learned, intellec
“ no one to talk to but the minister of tual, and earnest age of Taylor, Bar
the parish .” He, good man, could make row , Milton, Fuller, — no such pen of
but little of his solitary friend , and must fire had wrought its miracles amongst us.
many a time have been startled out Writers spoke from the intellect, believed
of his canonicals by the strange, alien in the intellect, and divorced it from the
speeches which he heard . It is a pity soul and the moral nature. Science, his
that this minister had not had some of tory, ethics, religion, whenever treated of
the Boswell faculty in him , that he might in literary form , were mechanized, and
have reported what we should all be so shone not with any spiritual illumination.
glad to hear. Over that period of his There was abundance of lawyer-like abil
life, however, the curtain falls at present, ity,—but of genius, and its accompany.
 .
Thomas Carlyle. 189
1857.]
fail to be productive. Jean Paul, the
ing divine afflatus, little. Carlyle is full
of genius; and this is evidenced not only beautiful ! — the good man , and the wise
by the fine aroma of his language, but teacher, with poetic stuff in him suffi
by the depths of his insight, his won- cient to have floated an argosy of mod
drous bistorical pictures,-living cartoons ern writers,—this great, imaginative Jean
of persons, events, and epochs, which he Paul was for a long time Carlyle's idol,
paints often in single sentences, —and the whom he reverently and affectionately
rich mosaic of truths with which every studied. He has written a fine paper
page of his writings is inlaid . about him in his “ Miscellanics," and
That German literature, with which we trace his influence not only in Car
at this time Carlyle had been more or lyle's thought and sentiment, but in the
less acquainted for ten years, had done very form of their utterance. He was,
much to foster and develope his genius indeed, warped by him , at one period,
there can be no doubt; although the clear out of his orbit, and wrote as he in
book which first created a storm in his spired. The dazzling sunbursts of Rich
mind, and awoke him to the conscious-
9 ter's imagination, however, its gigantic
ness of his own abundant faculty, was procession of imagery, moving along in
the “ Confessions ” of Rousseau , -a fact sublime and magnificent marches from
which is well worthy of record and re- earth to heaven , from heaven to earth ,
membrance. He speaks subsequently of the array, symbolism , and embodiment
poor Jean Jacques with much sympathy of his manifold ideas, ceased in the end
and sorrow ; not as the greatest man of to enslave, though they still captivated
his time and country, but as the sincer- Carlyle's mind ; and he turns from him to
est ,-a smitten, struggling spirit,- the thinkers who deal with God's geome
try, and penetrate into the abysses of
“ An infant crying in the night, being ,—to primordial Kant, and his be
An infant crying for the light, hemoth brother, Fichte . Nor does He
And with no language but a cry."
gel, or Schelling, or Schlegel, or Novalis
From Rousseau, and his strange escape his pursuit, but he hunts them all
thoughts, and wild , ardent eloquence, down, and takes what is neechful to him ,
the transition to German literature was out of them , as his trophy. Schiller is
easy. Some one had told Carlyle that his king of singers, although he does not
he would find in this literature what he much admire his “ Philosophical Let
had so long sought after,-truth and rest, ters ," or his “ Æsthetic Letters. " But his
—and he gladly learned the language, grandest modern man is the calm and
and addressed himself to the study of plastic Goethe, and the homage he ren
its masters ; with what success all the ders him is worthy of a better and a ho
world knows, for he has grafted their lier idol. Goethe's “ Autobiography,” in
thoughts upon his own, and whoever so far as it relates to his early days, is
now speaks is more or less consciously a bad book ; and Wordsworth might well
impregnated by his influence. Who the say of the “ Wilhelm Meister, ” that "it
man was that sent Carlyle to them does was full of all manner of fornication, like
not appear, and so far as he is concerned the crossing of flies in the air.” Goethe,
it is of little moment to inquire ; but the however, is not to be judged by any frag
fact constitutes the grand epoch in Car- mentary estimate of him, but as an intel
lyle's life, and his true history dates from lectual whole ; for he represented the
that period. intellect, and grasped with his selfish
It was natural that he should be deep and cosmical mind all the provinces of
ly moved on his introduction to German thought, learning, art, science, and gov
literature. He went to it with an open ernment, for purely intellectual purposes.
and receptive nature, and with an ear- This entrance into, and breaking up of,
nestness of purpose which could not the minds of these distinguished persons
190 Thomas Carlyle. [ December,
was, however, a fine discipline for Car- 1833. His person, except that he stoops
lyle, who is fully aware of its value ; and slightly, is tall, and very little changed.
whilst holding communion with these He is thinner, and the once ruddy hues
great men, who by their genius and of his check are dying away like faint
insight seemed to apprehend the essen- streaks of light in the twilight sky of a
tial truth of things at a glance, it is not summer evening. But he is strong and
wonderful that he should have been so hearty on the whole ; although the excite
merciless in his denunciations of the ment of continuous writing keeps him in
mere logic-ability of English writers, as aa perpetual fever, deranges his liver, and
he shows himself in the essays of that makes him at times acrid and savage as
a
period. Logic, useful as it is, as a help a sick giant. Hence his increased pug
to reasoning, is but the dead body of nacity of late ,—his ñerceness, and angry
thought, as Novalis designates it, and hammering of all things sacred and pro
has no place in the inspired regions fane. It is but physical and temporary,
where the prophets and the bards re- however, all this, and does not affect bis
side. healthy and serene moments. For no
Carlyle's fame, however, had not man lives who possesses greater kind
reached its culminating point when Em- ness and affection, or more good, noble,
erson visited him. The English are a and humane qualities. All who know
slow, unimpressionable people, not given him love him, although they may have
to hasty judgments, nor too much nor too much to pardon in him ; not in a so
sudden praise ; requiring first to take the cial or moral sense , however, but in an
true altitude of a man, to measure him intellectual one. His talk is as rich as
by severe tests ; often grudging him bis ever,-perhaps richer; for his mind has
proper and natural advantages and tal- increased its stores, and the old fire of
ents, buffeting and abusing him in a geniality still burns in his great and lov
merciless and sometimes an unreasoning ing heart. Perhaps his conversation is
and unreasonable manner, allowing him better than his printed discourse . We
now and then, however, a sunbeam for have never heard anything like it. It
his consolation, until at last they come to is all alive, as if each word had a soul
a settled understanding of him, and he is in it.
generously praised and abused into the How characteristic is all that Emerson
sanctuary of their worthies. This was tells us of him in his “ English Traits ” !—
not the case, however, at present, with a book, by the way, concerning which no
Carlyle ; for although he had the highest adequate word has yet been spoken ; the
recognitions from some of those who con- best book ever written upon England,
stitute the flower and chivalry of Eng- and which no brave young Englishman
land, he was far better known and more can read , and ever after commit either a
widely read in America than in his own mean or a bad action . We are there
country. Emerson, then a young man , fore doubly thankful to Emerson , both for
with a great destiny before him , was what he says of England, and for what
attracted by his writings, and carried a he relates of Carlyle, whose independent
letter of introduction to him at Craigen- speech upon all subjects is one of his
puttock. “ He was tall and gaunt, with chief charms. He reads “ Blackwood , "
a cliff -like brow ; self-possessed , and hold for example, and has enjoyed many a
ing his extraordinary powers of conver- racy, vigorous article in its pages ; but it
sation in easy command ; clinging to his does not satisfy him , and he calls it
northern accent with evident relish ; full “ Sand Magazine.” “ Fraser's ” is a little
of lively anecdote, and with a streaming better, but not good enough to be worthy
humor which floated everything he look- of a higher nomenclature than “ Mud
ed upon .” He is the same man, in his Magazine." Excessive praise of any
best monds, in the year 1857, as he was in one's talents drives him into admiration
1857.] Thomas Carlyle. 191

of the parts of his own learned pig, now life, to London and the living solitude of
wallowing in the stye. The best thing its unnumberable inhabitants, its activi
he knew about America was that there ties, polity, and world -wide ramifications
a man could have meat for his labor. of commerce, learning, science, literature,
He did not read Plato, and he dispar- and art, was a change of great magni
aged Socrates. Mirabeau was a hero ; tude, whose true proportions it took time
Gibbon the splendid bridge from the old to estimate. Carlyle, however, was not
world to the new. It is interesting also afraid of the huge mechanism of London
to bear that “ Tristram Shandy ” was life, but took to it bravely and kindly,
one of the first books he read after and was soon at home amidst the ever
“ Robinson Crusoe ,” and that Robert- lasting whirl and clamor, the roar and
son's “ America ” was an early favorite. thunder of its revolutions. For although
Rousseau's “ Confessions " had discovered a scholar, and bred in seclusion , he was
to him that he was not a dunce. Speak- also a genuine man of the
a rld , and
ing of English pauperism , he said that well acquainted with its rough ways and
government should direct poor men what Plutonic wisdom . This knowledge, com
to do. “ Poor Irish folks come wandering bined with his strong “common sense ,"
over these moors. My dame makes it a as
poor Dr. Beattie calls it, fighting for its
rule to give to every son of Adam bread supremacy with canine ferocity, -gave
to eat, and supplies his wants to the next Carlyle high vantage-ground in his writ
house. But here are thousands of acres ings. He could meet the world with its
which might give them all meat, and no- own weapons, and was cunning enough
body to bid those poor Irish go to the at that fence, as the world was very
moor and till it. They burned the shortly sensible. He was saved, there
stacks, and so found a way to force the fore, from the contumely which vulgar
rich people to attend to them .” Here is minds are always ready to bestow upon
the germ of his book on “ Chartism . ” saints and mystics who sit aloof from
Emerson and he talk of the immortal- them, high enthroned amidst the truths
ity of the soul, seated on the hill-tops and solemnities of God . The secluded
near Old Criffel, and looking down “ in- and ascetic life of most scholars, highly
to Wordsworth's country. ” Carlyle had favorable as it undoubtedly is to con
the natural disinclination of every nim- templation and internal development,
ble spirit to bruise itself against walls, has likewise its disadvantages, and puts
and did not like to place himself where them, as being undisciplined in the ways
no step can be taken ; but he was hon- of life, at great odds, when they come to
est and true, and cognizant of the subtile the actual and practical battle. A man
links that bind ages together, and saw should be armed at all points, and not
how every event affects all the future. subject himself, like good George Fox,
“ Christ died on the tree ; that built Dun- Jacob Behmen, and other holy men, to
score Kirk yonder; that brought you the taunts of the mob, on account of
and me together. Time has only a rela- any awkward gait, mannerism , or ig
tive existence.” norance of men and affairs. Paul had
Such is Emerson's account of his none of these absurdities about him ; but
first visit to our author, whose eyes was an accomplished person , as well as
were already turned towards London a divine speaker. His doctrine of being
as the heart of the world, whither he all things to all men, that he might win
subsequently went, and where he now souls to Christ, is, like good manners and
abides. politeness, a part of that mundane phi
From Craigenputtock, with its savage losophy which obtains in every society,
rocks and moorlands, its sheepwalk soli- both as theory and performance ; not,
tudes, its isolation and distance from all however, in its literal' meaning, which
the advantages of civil and intellectual would involve all sorts of hypocrisy and
192 Thomas Carlyle. [ December,
lies as its accessories, but in the sense of any glimpses of its meaning, or live a
ability to meet all kinds of men on their true and divine life in the world ; and
own grounds and with their own en in the “Sartor ” he has embodied and
ginery of warfare. illustrated this in the person and ac
Strength, whether of mind or body, is tions of his hero . He saw that religion
sure to command respect, even though it had become secular ; that it was re
be used against ourselves ; for we Anglo- duced to a mere Sunday holiday and
Saxons are all pugilists. A man, there- Vanity Fair, taking no vital bold of
fore, who accredits his metal by the work the lives of men , and radiating, there
he accomplishes, will be readily enough fore, none of its blessed and beautiful
heard when he comes to speak and la- influences about their feet and ways ;
bor upon higher platforms. This was that human life itself, with all its adorn
the case with Carlyle ; and when he ments of beauty and poetry, was in
published that new Book of Job, that danger of paralysis and death ; that love
weird and marvellous Pilgrim's Progress and faith, truth, duty, and holiness, were
of a modern cultivated soul, the “ Sar- fast losing their divine attributes in the
tor Resartus,” in “ Fraser's Magazine," common estimation, and were hurrying
strange, wild, and incomprehensible as downwards with tears and a sad thren
it was to most men, they did not put it ody into gloom and darkness. Carlyle
contemptuously aside, but pondered it, saw all this, and knew that it was the re
laughed at it, trembled over it and its action of that intellectual idolatry which
dread apocalyptical visions and reve- brought the eighteenth century to a
lations, respecting its carnestness and close ; knew also that there was only
eloquence, although not comprchending one remedy which could restore men to
what manner of writing it essentially life and health, -namely, the quickening
was. Carlyle enjoyed the perplexity of once again of their spiritual nature . He
his readers and reviewers, neither of felt, also, that it was his mission to attempt.
whom , with the exception of men like this miracle ; and hence the prophetic
Sterling, and a writer in one of the fire and vehemence of his words. No
Quarterlies, seemed to know what they man, and especially no carnest man, can
were talking about when they spoke of read him without feeling himself arrested
it. The criticisms upon it were exceed- as by the grip of a giant,—without trem
ingly comical in many instances, and bling before his stern questions, inculca
the author put the most notable of these tions, and admonitions. There is a God ,
together, and always alluded to them O Man ! and not a blind chance, as gov
with roars of laughter. The book has ernor of this world. Thy soul has infi
never yet received justice at the hands nite relations with this God , which thou
of any literary tribunal. It requires, canst never realize in thy being, or
indeed , a large amount of culture to ap- manifest in thy practical life, save by a
preciate it, either as a work of art, or as devout reverence for him, and his mi
a living flame-painting of spiritual strug- raculous, awful universe. This rever
gle and revelation . In his previous ence, this deep, abiding religious feel
writings he had insisted upon the sacred- ing, is the only link which binds us to
ness and infinite value of the human the Infinite. That severed, broken , or
soul, -upon the wonder and mystery of destroyed, and man is an alien and an
life, and its dread surroundings ,—upon orphan ; lost to him forever is the key
the divine significance of the universe, to all spiritual mystery , to the hiero
with its star pomp, and overhanging im- glyph of the soul, to the symbolism of
mensities,—and upon the primal neces- nature , of time, and of eternity . - Such,
sity for each man to stand with awe as we understand it, is Carlyle's teach
and reverence in this august and solemn ing. But this is not all. Man is to be
presence, if he would hope to receive man in that high sense we have spoken
1857.] Thomas Carlyle. 193

of, not for the mere offices of devotion heaven. Then bursts upon him a new
and contemplation, folding his robes of significance from all things; he sees that
immortality around him, as if God had the great world is but a fable of divine
done with him for all practical purposes, truth, hiding its secrets from all but the
and he with God, — but for action, -
-
initiated and the worthy, and that faith,
action in a world which is to prove and trust, and worship are the cipher
his power, his beneficence, bis useful- which unlocks them all. He thus ar
ness. That spiritual fashioning by the rives at the plains of heaven in the re
66
Great Fashioner of all things is so or- gion of the Everlasting Yes.” His
dained that we ourselves may become own soul lies naked and resolved be .
fashioners, workers, makers. For it is fore him ,—its unspeakable greatness, its
given to no man to be an idle cumberer meaning, faculty, and destiny. Work,
of the ground, but to dig, and sow , and and dutiful obedience to the laws of
plant, and reap the fruits of his labor for work, are the outlets of bis power; and
the garner. This is man's first duty, herein he finds peace and rest to his
and the diviner he is the more divinely soul.
will he execute it. That Carlyle is not only an earnest,
That such a gospel as this could find but a profoundly religious man , these
utterance in the pages of the “ Edin attempted elucidations of his teachings
burgh Review ” is curious enough ; and will abundantly slow . His religion , how
it is scarcely less surprising that the ever, is very far remote from what is call
Sartor Resartus ” should make its first ed religion in this day. He has no pa
appearance in the somewhat narrow and tience with second-hand beliefs, —with ar
conservative pages of Fraser. Carlyle ticles of faith ready-made for the having.
has clearly written his own struggles in Whatsoever is accepted by men because
this book ,-his struggles and his con- it is the tradition of their fathers, and
quests. From the “ Everlasting No," not a deep conviction arrived at by legit
--that dreadful realm of enchantment, imate search, is to him of no avail; and
where all the forms of nature are frozen all merely historical and intellectual faith,
forever in dumb imprisonment and de- standing outside the man, and not ab
spair,—the great vaulted firmament no sorbed in the life as a vital, moving, and
longer serene and holy and loving as spiritual power, he places also amongst
God's curtain for his children's slum- the chaff for burning. This world is a
bers, but flaming in starry portents, and serious world, and human life and busi
dropping down over the earth like a ness are also serious matters ,—not to be
funeral pall; through this region of life- trifled with, nor cheated by shams and
semblance and death-reality the lonely hypocrisies, but to be dealt with in all
and aching pilgrim wanders, question- truth, soberness, and sincerity. No one
ing without reply,—wailing, broken, self- can thus deal with it who is not him
consuming --looking with eager eyes for self possessed of these qualities, and the
the waters of immortality, and finding result of a life is the test of what virtue
nothing but pools of salt and Marahs there is in it. False men leave no mark.
of bitterness. Herein is no Calvary, It is truth alone which does the masonry
no Cross-symbolism , by whose miracu- of the world,—which founds empires, and
lous power he is relieved of his infinite builds cities, and establishes laws, com
burden of sorrow , starting onward with merce, and civilization. And in private
hope and joy in his heart; nor does he life the same law abides, indestructible as
erer find his Calvary until the deeps of God. Carlyle's teaching tends altogether
his spiritual nature are broken up and in this direction ; and whilst be belongs
flooded with celestial light, as he knocks to no church and no crced, he is tolerant
reverently at the portals of heaven for of all, and of everything that is heartily
communion with his Father who is in and unfeignedly believed in by his fellows
VOL . I. 13
194 Thomas Carlyle. [ December,
He is no Catholic ; and yet for years devotion, this pomp and ceremony, this
he read little else than the forty volumes music and painting, this gorgeous and
of the “ Acta Sanctorum ," and found, sublime architecture, this fasting and
he says, all Christian history there, and praying, were real,-faithful manifesta
much of profane history. Neither is he tions of a religion which to that people
a Mahometan ; but he nevertheless makes was truly genuine and holy. They who
a hero of Mahomet, whom he loves for his built the cathedrals of Europe, adorned
Ishmaelite fierceness, bravery, and reli- them with carvings, pictures, and those
gious sincerity,—and because he taught stately windows with their storied illi
deism , or the belief in one God, instead minations which at this day are often
of the old polytheism , or the belief in miracles of beauty and of art, were
many gods, —and gave half the East his not frivolous modern conventicle -builders,
very good book, called the Koran, for but poets as grand as Milton , and sculp
his followers to live and die by. tors whose genius might front that of
Whether this large catholicism , this Michel Angelo . It was no dead belief
worship of heroes, is the best of what now in a dead religion which designed and
remains of religion on earth is certainly executed these matchless temples. Man
questionable enough ; and if we regard and Religion were both alive in those
it in no other light than merely as an days ; and the worship of God was so
idolatry of persons, there is an easy an- profound a prostration of the inmost
swer ready for it. But considering that spirit before his majesty and glory, that
religion is now so far dead that it consists the souls of the artists seem to have been
in little else than formalities, and that its inspired, and to have received their
divine truth is no longer such to half the archetypes in heavenly visions. Such
great world, which lies, indeed, in dire temples it is neither in the devotion nor
atrophy and wickedness,—and if we fur- the faculty of the modern Western world
ther consider and agree that the awak- to conceive or construct. Carlyle knows
ened human soul is the divinest thing on all this, and he falls back in loving ad
earth, and partakes of the divine nature miration upon those old times and their
itself, and that its manifestations are worthies, despising the filigree materials
also divine in whomsoever it is embodied, of which the men of to -day are for the
we can see some apology for its adop- most part composed. He revels in that
tion ; inasmuch as it is the divine likeness picture of monastic life, also, which is pre
to which reverence and homage are ren- served in the record of Jocelyn de Brake
dered , and not the person merely, but londe. He sees all men at work there,
only so far as he is the medium of its each at his proper vocation ; . and he
showing. Christianity, however, will as- praises them, because they fear God and
suredly survive, although doubtless in a do their duty. He finds them the same
new form , preserving all the integrity men, although with better and devouter
of its message, -and be once more faith hearts, as we are at this day. Time
and life to men , when the present old, makes no difference in this verdant hu
established, decaying cultus shall be ven- man nature, which shows ever the same
erated only as history. in Catholic monasteries as in Puritan
Carlyle clings to the Christian formu- meeting-houses. We have aa wise preach
lary and the old Christian life in spite ment, however, from that Past, to the
of himself. He is almost fanatical in his Present, in Carlyle's book, which is one
attachment to the mediæval times, -to of his best efforts, and contains isolated
the ancient worship, its ceremonial, mu- passages which for wisdom and beauty,
sic, and architecture, its monastic gov- and chastity of utterance, he has never
ernment, its saints and martyrs. And exceeded .
the reason, as he shows in the “ Past We have no space to speak here of
and Present," is, that all this array of all his books with anything like critical
 1857.] Thomas Carlyle. 195

integrity. The greatest amongst them , beget the strength, purity, virtue, and
however, is, perhaps, his “ French Revolu- truth which can alone restore order and
tion, a History ,” — which is no story, but beauty upon the eartb ; that all “ systems, "
a vivid painting of characters and events and mechanical, outward means and ap
as they moved along in tumultuous pro- pliances to the end, will but increase the
cession. No one can appreciate this book Babel of confusion, as things unfitted to
who is not acquainted with the history in it, and altogether extraneous and hope
its details beforehand . Emerson once less. • Systeins ! ” It is living, truthful
related to us a striking anecdote con- men we want ; these will make their own
nected with this work, which gives us systems; and let those who doubt the
another glimpse of Carlyle's character. truth humbly watch and wait until it is
He had just completed, after infinite manifest to them, or go on their own arid
labor, one of the three voluines of his His- and sorrowful ways in what peace they
tory, which he left exposed on his study can find there.
table when he went to bed. Next morn- The catholic spirit of Carlyle's works
ing he sought in vain for the manuscript, cannot be better illustrated than by the
and had wellnigh concluded with Robert fact that he has received letters from all
Hall, who was once in a similar dilemma, sorts and conditions of men, Methodists
that the Devil had run away with it, when and Shakers, Churchmen and Romanists,
the servant- girl, on being questioned, con- Deists and Infidels, all claiming his fel
fessed that she had burnt it to kindle the lowship, and thinking they find their pe
fire. Carlyle neither stamped nor raved, culiarities of thought in him . This is
but sat down without aa word and rewrote owing partly, perhaps, to the fact that in
it his earlier writings he masked his senti
In summing up the present results of ments both in Hebraic and Christian
Carlyle's labor, foolish men of the world phraseology ; and partly to the lack of
and small critics have not failed to ask vision in his admirers, who could not dis
what it all amounts to ,—what the great tinguish a new thought in an old garment
Demiurgus is aiming at in his weary þat His “ Cromwell ” deceived not a few in
te of life ; and the question is significant this respect; and we were once asked in
enough, one more proof of that Egyp earnest, by a man who should have been
tian darkness of vision which he is here better informed, if Carlyle was a Puritan.
to dispel. “ He pulls down the old,” Whatever he may be called, or believed
say they ; " but what does he give us in to be, one thing is certain concerning him :
place of it ? Why does he not strike that he is aa true and valiant man , -all out
out a system of his own ? And after all, a man and that literature and the world
there is nothing new in him .” Such is are deeply indebted to him . His mission,
the idle talk of the day, and such are like that of Jeremy Collier in a still baser
the men who either guide the people, or age , was to purge our literature of its
seek to guide them . Poor ignorant souls ! falsehood, to recreate it, and to make
who do not know the beginning of the men once more believe in the divine, and
knowledge which Carlyle teaches, nor its live in it So earnest a man has not ap
infinite importance to life and all its con- peared since the days of Luther, nor any
cerns :—this, namely, as we have said be- one whose thoughts are so suggestive,
fore, that the soul should first of all be germinal, and propagative. All our later
wakened to the consciousness of its own writers are tinged with his thought, and
miraculous being, that it may be pene. he has to answer for such men as Kings
trated by the miracles of the universe, ley, Newman, Froude, and others who
and rise by aspiration and faith to the will not answer for him , nor acknowledge
knowledge and worship of God , in whom him .
are all things; that this attitude of the · In private life Carlyle is amiable, and
soul, and its accompanying wisdom , will often high and beautiful in his demeanor.
 196 The Butlon - Rose. [ December,
He talks much, and, as we have said, guished by their attainments in literature,
well ; impatient, at times, of interruption, science, or art ; but he rarely leaves his
and at other times readily listening to home now for such a purpose . He is at
those who have anything to say. But he present engaged in his “Life of Fred
hates babblers, and cant, and sham , and erick the Great,” whom he will bardly
has no mercy for them , but sweeps them make a hero of, and with whom , we
away in the whirlwind and terror of his learn, he is already very heartily dis
wrath. He receives distinguished men, gusted. The first volume will shortly
in the evening, at his house in Chelsea ; appear.
but he rarely visits. He used occasion- And now we must close this imper
ally to grace the saloons of Lady Bles- fect paper,-reserving for a future occa
sington, in the palmy days of her life, sion some personal reminiscences of him ,
when she attracted around her all noble which may prove both interesting and
and beautiful persons, who were istin- illustrative.

THE BUTTON - ROSE .

CHAPTER I.
flowers. I must e'en give it up ; I have
I Fear I have not what is called “ a no taste for flowers, in the common sense
taste for flowers . ” To be sure, my cot- of the words. In fact, they awaken in
tage home is balf buried in tall shrubs, me no sentiment, no associations, as they
some of which are flowering, and some stand, marshalled for show , “ in beds and
are not. A giant woodbine has wrapped curious knots ”" ; and I do not like the care
the whole front in its rich green mantle ; of them .
and the porch is roofed and the windows Yet let me find these daughters of
curtained with luxuriant honeysuckles the early year in their native haunts,
and climbing wild -roses. But, though I scattered about on hillside and in woody
have tried for it many times, I never yet dingle, half hidden by green leaves,
had a successful bed of flowers. My starting up like fairies in secluded nooks,
next neighbor, Mrs. Smith, is “ a lady of nestling at the root of some old tree,
great taste " ; and when she leads me or leaning over to peep into some glassy
proudly through her trim alleys edged bit of water, and no heart thrills quicker
with box, and displays her hyacinths and than mine at the sight. There they
tulips, her heliotropes, cactuses, and gla- scem to me to enjoy a sweet wild life of
dioluses, her choice roses,“ so extremely their own ; nodding and smiling in the
double,” and all the rare plants which sunshine or verdant gloom , caring not to
adorn her parterre, I conclude it must see or to be seen . Some of the loveliest
be that I have no taste at all. I beg her of my early recollections are of ram
to save me seeds and bulbs, get fresh di- bles after flowers. There was a certain
rections for laying down, and inoculating, “ little pink and yellow flower ” ( so de
grafting, and potting, and go home with scribed to me by one of my young cous
my head full of improvements. But the ins) after which I searched a whole sum
next summer comes round with no change, mer with unabated eagerness. . I was
except that the old denizens of the soil fairly haunted by its ideal image. Henry
(like my maids and my children ) have von Ofterdingen never sought with in
grown more wild and audacious than tenser desire for his wondrous blue flower,
ever, and I find no place for beds of nor more vainly ; for I ncver found it.
1857.] The Button - Rose. 197

One day, this same cousin and myself, relieved against the sky. It was but
while wandering in the woods, found little after sunrise, the first morning of
ourselves on the summit of a little rocky my visit, when I timidly opened the
precipice, and at its foot, lo ! in full garden gate and stood in full view of
bloom, a splendid variety of the orchis, these glories. All was dewy, glittering,
(a flower I had never seen before,) look- fragrant, musical as a morn in Eden
iug to my astonished eyes like an en- For a while I stood still, in a kind of en
chanted princess in a fairy tale . With chantment. Venturing, at length, a few
a scream of joy we both sprang for the steps forward, gazing eagerly from side
prize. Harriet seized it first, but after to side, I was suddenly arrested by the
gazing at it a moment with a quiet smile, most marvellously beautiful object my
presented it to me. 66 Kings may be eyes liad ever seen , no other than the
blest, but I was glorious ! ” I never felt little Button -Rose of our story ! So small,
so rich before or since. so perfect! It filled my infant sense with
But there was one flower, —and I must its loveliness. It grew in a very pretty
confess that I made acquaintance with it china vase, as if more precious than the
in a garden, but at an age when I thought other flowers. Several blossoms were
all things grew out of the blessed earth fully expanded, and many tiny buds
of their own sweet will,—which, as it is were showing their crimson tips. As I
the first I remember to have loved, has stood lost in rapture over this little miracle
maintained the right of priority in my of beauty, a humming-bird, the smallest
affections to this day. Nay, many an of its fairy tribe, darted into sight, and
object of deep, absorbing interest, more hung for an instant, its ruby crest and
than one glowing friendship, has mean- green and golden plumage flashing in the
time passed away, leaving no memorial sun , over my new - found treasure . Were
but sad and bitter thoughts ; while this it not that the emotions of a few such
wec flower still lives and makes glad a moments are stamped indelibly on the
little green nook in my heart. It was a memory, we should have no conception
Button -Rose of the smallest species, the in maturer life of the intenseness of
outspread blossom scarce exceeding in childish enjoyment. Oh for one drop of
size a shilling -piece. It stood in my that fresh morning dew, that pure nectar
grandfather's garden ,—that garden which, of life, in which I then bathed with an
at my first sight of it, ( I was then about unconscious bliss ! Methinks I would
five years old,) seemed to me boundless give many days of sober, thoughtful,
in extent, and beautiful beyond aught rational enjoyment for one hour of the
that I had seen or thought before. It eager rapture which thrilled my being as
was a large, old - fashioned kitchen -garden ,
I stood in that enchanted garden, gazing
adorned and enriched , however, as then upon my little rose, and that gay creature
the custom was, with flowers and fruit- of the elements, that winged blossom ,
trees . Several fine old pear-trees and that living fragment of a rainbow , that
a few of the choicest varieties of plum glanced and quivered and murmured
and cherry were scattered over it ; cur over it.
rants and gooseberries lined the fences; But, dear as the Button -Rose is to my
the main alley, running through its whole memory, I should hardly think of obtrud
extent, was thickly bordered by lilacs, ing it on the notice of others, were it not
syringas, and roses, with many showy for a little tale of human interest con
flowers intermixed , and terminated in a nected with it. While I yet stood mo
very pleasant grape-arbor. Behind this tionless in the ecstasy of my first wonder,
rose a steep green hill covered with an a young man and woman entered the
apple-orchard, through which a little garden, chatting and laughing in a very
thread of a footpath wound up to an- lively manner. The lady was my Aunt
other arbor which stood on the summit Caroline, then in the fresh bloom of
198 The Button - Rose. [ December,
seventeen ; the young man I had never was to me but little more than dumb
seen before. Seeing me standing alone show. Perhaps it was more vividly re
in the walk ,my aunt called me ; but as I membered for that very reason . I recol
shrunk away shy and blushing at sight of lect being busy filling aa little basket with
the stranger, she came forward and took strawberries, while I watched with a
hold of my hand. pleased, childish curiosity the two young
“ This is our little Katy, Cousin Har- people, as they passed many times up and
ry, ” said she, leading me towards him . down the gravelled walk between the
“ Our little Katy's most obedient ! ” rows of flowers. I was not far from the
replied be, taking off his broad -brimmed Button -Rosc, and I had nearly filled my
straw bat, and making a flourishing bow basket, when my aunt came to the spot
nearly to the ground. and stooped over the little plant. Her
“ Don't be afraid of him, Katy dear ; face was towards me , and I saw several
he's nobody,” said my aunt, laughing. large tears fall from her eyes upon the
At these encouraging words I glanced leaves. She broke off the most beauti
up at the merry pair, and thought them ful blossom, and tying it up with some
almost as pretty as the rose and humming- sprigs of mignonette, presented it to
bird . My Aunt Caroline's beauty was of Cousin Harry. They then left the gar
a somewhat peculiar character, -if beau- den .
ty that can be called which was rather The next day I heard it said that
spirit, brilliancy, geniality of expression, Cousin Harry was gone away. The little
than symmetrical mould of features. The rose was brought into the house and in
large, full eye was of the deepest violet stalled in the bow -window of my aunt's
hue ; the finely arched forehead , a little room , where it was watched and tended
too boldly cast for feminine beauty, was by us both with the greatest care .
shaded by masses of rich chestnut hair ; Some time after this, the news came
the mouth ,—but who could describe that that Cousin Harry was married . The
mouth ? Even in repose , some arch next morning I missed my little favorite
thought seemed ever at play among its from the window . My aunt was reading
changeful curves ; and when she spoke when I waked.
or laughed, its wonderful mobility and “ Oh, Aunty ! " I cried, “ where is our
sweetness of expression threw a perfect little rose ? ”
witchery over her face . She was quite “ It was too much trouble, Katy,” said
short, and, if the truth must be told , a she, quietly ; “ I have put it into the
little too stout in figure ; but this was in garden.”
a great measure redeemed by a beauti- “ But isn't it going to stand in our
fully moulded neck , on which her head window any more ? "
turned with the quickness and grace of a No, dear, I am tired of it."
66

wild pigcon. Every motion was rapid “ Oh, do bring it back ! I will take
and decided , and her whole aspect beam- the whole care of it,” said I, beginning
ed with genius, gayety, and a cordial to cry
friendliness, which took the heart at first Katy,” said my aunt, taking me into
66

sight. And then ,her voice, her laugh ! -- her lap, and looking steadily, but kindly,
not so low as Shakspeare commends in into my face , “ listen to me. I do not
woman , but clear, musical, true -hearted , wish to have that rose in my room any
making one glad like the song of the more ; and if you love me, you will never
lark at sunrise. mention it again.”
Cousin Harry was a very tall, very Something in her manner prevented
pale, very black -haired and black -eyed my uttering a word more in behalf of
young gentleman, with a high, open brow , the poor little exile. As soon as I was
and a very fascinating smile. dressed, I ran down into the garden to
The remainder of the garden scene visit it. It looked very lonely, I thought ;
1857.] The Button - Rose. 199

I could hardly bear to leave it. The day now but one in an extensive gallery ;
following, it disappeared from the gar- and the modest little gem, dimmed with
den, and old Nanny, the housemaid, told dust, and hidden by larger pieces, had
me that my aunt bad given it away. I not been thought of for many a day.
never saw it again. External circumstances had remained
Thus ended my personal acquaint- much the same with us ; only one great
ance with the little Button - Rose. But change, the death of my dear grand
that first strong impression on my fancy mother, having occurred in the family.
was indelible. The flower still lived in My aunt presided over her father's house
my memory, surrounded by associations hold, and the admirable order and good
which gave it a mystic charm . By de- taste which pervaded every department
grees I ceased to miss it from the win- bore witness how well she understood
dow ; but that strange garden scene combining the elements of a homc.
grew more and more vivid, and became Aunt Linny, now twenty -seven years
a cabinet picture in one of the little in- of age , had lost nothing of her former
ner chambers of memory , where I often attractiveness. The brilliant, impulsive
pondered it with a delicious sense of girl had but ripened into the still more
mystery. The rose and humming-bird lovely woman. Her cheek was not fad
seemed to me the chief actors in the ed nor her eye dimmed . There was
magic pantomime, and they were some the same frankness, the same heart in
way connected with my dear Aunt Lin- her glance, her smile, the warm pressure
ny and the black -eyed young man ; but of her hand , but tempered by experi
what it all meant was the great puzzle ence, reflection , and self-control. One
of my busy little brain . It has sometimes felt that she could be loved and trust
been a matter of curious speculation to ed with the whole heart and judgment.
me, what share that diminutive flower Her personal attractions, and yet more
bad in the development of my mind and the charm of her sensible, genial, and
character. With it, so it seems to me, racy conversation , brought to our house
began the first dawn of aa conscious inner many pleasant visitors, and made her
life. I can still recollect with wonder the sparkling centre of every circle into
ful distinctness what I have thought which she could be drawn. But it was
and felt since that date, while all the rarely that she could be beguiled from
preceding years are vague and shadowy home ; for, since her mother's death , she
as an ill-remembered dream . From had devoted herself heart and soul to her
them I can only conjure up, as it were, widowed father.
my outward form , -a happy animal ex- The relation between myself and my
istence, with which scarce a feeling of aunt was somewhat peculiar. Neither
self is connected ; but from the time when of us having associates of our own age
I bore a part in this little fragment of in the family, I had become her com
a romance the current of identity flows panion, and even friend, to a degree
on unbroken. From that light waking which would have been impossible in
touch , perchance, the whole subsequent other circumstances. She had scarcely
development took form and tone. - But, outgrown the freshness and simplicity of
gentle reader, your pardon ! This is childhood when I first came to live with
nothing to my story. her, and my mind and feelings had ex
panded rapidly under the constant stimu
lus of a nature so full of rich life ; so that
CHAPTER II.
at the date I now speak of, we lived
Ten years had slipped away, and I together more as sisters than as aunt
was now in my sixteenth year. Of and niece. An inexpressible charm rests
course , my little cabinet picture had on those days, when we read, wrote,
been joined by many others. It was rambled together, shared the same room ,
200 The Button -Rose. [ December,
and had every pleasure, every trouble truth, Katy, why is there not as true
in common . All show of authority over poetry in battling with feeling as in
me had gradually melted away ; but her yielding to it ? To me there seemssome
influence with me was still unbounded, for thing far more lofty and beautiful in bear
I lored her with the passionate earnest- ing to live, under certain circunstances,
ness of a first, full-hearted friendship.— than in daring to die.”
But to proceed with my story. “If you only spoke experimentally,
One sweet afternoon in early summer, dear Aunty ! Oh that Plato, or John
we two were sitting alone. The windows Milton, or Sir Philip Sydney would re
towards the garden were open, and the appear, and lay all his genius and glory
breath of lilacs and roses stole in . I had at your feet! I wonder if you'd be of
beco reading to her some verses of my the same mind then ! ”
own, celebrating the praise of first love * And then , of course , this sublime
as an imperishable sentiment. My fancy suitor must die, or desert me, to show
had just been crazed with the poetry of bow I would behave under the trial.
L. E. L., who was then shining as the Katy ," continued my aunt, after a little
“ bright particular star ” in the literary pause, with a smile and slight blush,
a

heavens. “ I have half a mind to tell you a little

“ The lines are very pretty,” said my romance of my early days, when I was
aunt, “ but I trust it's only poctizing, just your age. It may be useful to you
Kate ; I should be sorry indeed to have at this point of your life .”
you join the school of romantic misses “ Is it possible ? ” cried 1, — “ a ra
who think first love such a killing mat- mance of your early days! Quick, let
ter. " me hear ! ”
“ But, Aunty,” I cried , “ what a horri- “ I shouldn't have called it a romance ,
bly prosy , matter -of-fact affair life would Katy ; for as a story , it is just nothing.
be in any other view ! I believe poetry It has no interest except as marking the
itself would become extinct .” beginning of my education , —the educa
“So, then, if a woman is disappointed tion, I mean, of real life .”
in first love, she is bound to die for the “ But let me hear; there's some spice
benefit of poetry !” of poetry in it, I know.”
66
“ But just think, Aunt Linny,-if Well, then, it's like many another
Ophelia, instead of going mad so prettily, story of early fancy. In my childhood
and dying in a way to break everybody's I had a playmate. Our fathers' houses
heart, had soberly set herself to consider stood but a few rods apart, and the fam
that there were as fine fish yet in the sea ilies lived in babits of the closest inti
as ever were caught, and that it was best, macy. From my earliest remembrance,
therefore, to cheer up and wait for better the brave little boy, four years older than
times ! Frightful ! ” I, was my sworn friend and protector;
“ Never trouble your little head, Kate, and as we increased in years, an affec
with fear that there will not be Ophelias tion warm and frank as that of brother
enough, as long as the world stands. But and sister grew up between us. A lovo
I wouldn't be one, if I were you, unless of nature and of poetry, and a certain
I could bespeak a Shakspeare to do me earnestness and enthusiasm of character,
into poetry. That would be an induce- which separated us both from other chil
inent, I allow . How would you fancy dren, drew us closely together. At fif
being a Sukey Fay, Kate ? ” teen he left us to fit for college at a
“ Oh, the poor old wretch, with her distant school, and thenceforward he was
rags and dirt and gin -bottle ! Has she at home only for brief visits, till he was
a story ? " graduated with distinguished honor at
“ Just as romantic a one as Ophelia, the age of twenty -one. During those
only she lacks a poct. But, in sober six years of separation our relation to
1857.] The Button - Rose. 201

each other had suffered no change. We very month ! ” added Aunt Linny, with
had corresponded with tolerable regu- an absent air.
»
larity, and I had felt a sister's pride in “ Ten years ago this very month," I
his talents and literary honors. When, exclaimed, “ did my distinguished self
therefore, he returned home to recruit arrive at this venerable mansion . What
his health, which had been seriously im- a singular conjunction of events ! No
paired by study and confinement, I wel- doubt our boroscopes would reveal some
comed him with great joy, and with all strange entanglement of destinies at this
the frankness of former times. point. Perchance I, even I, was " the
66
Again we read, chatted , and ram- star malign ' whose rising disturbed the
bled together. I found him unchanged harmonious movement of the spheres ! ”
in characier, but improved, cultivated, to “ No doubt of it ; the birth of a mouse
a degrực which delighted, almost awed once caused an earthquake, you know.”
me . When he read our favorite au- “ But could I have seen bim ? Did I
thors with his rich , musical voice, and arrive before he had left ? "
descanted on their beauties with discrim- “ Oh, yes, very likely ; but of course
inating taste and fervent poetic feeling, you can have no recollection of him ,
a new light fell on the page. Through such aa chit as you were then .”
his eyes I learned to behold in nature a “ What was his name ? " I cried , ea
richness, a grace, a harmony, a meaning, gerly. A long-silent chord of memory
only vaguely felt before. It was as if I began to give forth a vague, uncertain
had just received the key to a mysteri murmur .

ous cipher, unlocking deep and beauti- “ Oh, no matter, Kate. I would a lit
ful truths in earth and sea and sky, by tle rather you shouldn't know. It doesn't
which they were invested with a life and affect the moral of the story, which was
splendor till now unseen . But it was his all I had in view in relating it. "
66
noble sentiments, his generous human • A plague take the moral, Aunty !
sympathics, lis ardent aspirations after The romance is what I want ; and what's
honorable distinction to be won by toil that without the magic of a namc ' ? "
and selftlenial, which woke my heart “ Excuse me. ”
as by an electric touch. My own un w Tell me his Christian name, then,
shaped, half-conscious aims and aspira- just for a peg to hang my ideas on ; that
tions, stirred with life, took wing and is, if it's meat for romance. If it is Isaac
soared with his into the pure upper air. or Jonathan, you needn't mention it."
Ab ! it was a bright, beautiful dream , “ Well, then, you tease, I called him
Kate, the life of those few months. I Cousin Harry."
never once thought of love, nor of the " Cousin Harry ! ” I screamed, starting
possibility of separation. All flowed so forward, and staring at her with eyes
naturally fro: n our life -long intimacy, wide open .
that I had not the slightest suspicion of “ Yes ; but what ails you, child ? You
the change which had come over me. glare upon me like aa maniac.”
66
But the hour of waking was at hand. •Hush ! hush ! don't speak ! ” said I.
We had looked forwarıl to the settled As I sunk back , in a sort of dream ,
summer weather for a marked improve into the rocking-chair in which I had
ment in his health . But Jure had been idling, the garden caught my eye
come and he still seemed very delicate. through the open window. The gate
His physician prescribed travelling and overarched with honeysuckle, the long al
change of climate ; and though his high ley with its fragrant flowering boriler, the
spirits had deceived me as to his real grape arbor, the steep green hill behind,
danger, I urged him to go . He left us lay before me in the still, rich beauty
to visit an elder brother residing in one of June. In a twinkling, memory had
of the Middle States. Ten years this swept the dust from my little cabinet pic
202 The Button -Rose. [ December,
ture, and let in upon it a sudden light. " But what a gypsy you must be," she
The ten intervening years vanished like added, in her usually lively tone, “ to
a dream , and that long-forgotten garden have trudged along so many years with
scene started up, vivid as in the hour this precious little bundle, and said never
when it actually passed before my eyes. a word to anybody ! ”
The clue to that mystery which had “ I've not thought of it myself, these
80 spellbound my childish fancy was at ever so many years, " said I, “ and it
length found . I sat for a time in si- secms like witchwork that it should all
lence, lost in a delicious, confused reve- have come to me at this moment. ”
rie . I then related to her my childish remi
“ The Button -Rose was a gift from niscences and speculations, which amused
him , then ? ” were my first words. her not a little. Her hearty, mirthful
" What, Kate ? ” said Aunt Linny, zest showed that the theme was not a
now opening her large blue eyes with a disquieting one. I now begged her to
strange look. proceed with her story.
“ Did you give away the flower-pot “ But stay a moment,” said I ; “ let me
too ? That was so pretty ! Whom did fetch our garden bonnets, that we may
you give it to ? ” enjoy it in the very scene of the ro
“ Incredible !” she exclaimed, coloring, mance.”
and with the strongest expression of sur- “ Ah, Kate, you are bent on making a
prise. “ Truly , little pitchers have not heroine of me ! ” was the reply, as she
been slandered ! ” took her seat in the grape arbor; " but
“ But the wonderful humming -bird, there are really no materials. I shall
Aunty ! What had that to do with it ? " finish in fifteen minutes by my watch,
“ Kate,” said my aunt, “ you talk like and you'll drop me as an Ophelia, I ven
one in sleep. Wake up, and let me ture to say. Cousin Harry had left us,
know what all this means.” as I told you, to visit his brother. For
“ I see it all now ! ” I rattled on, more some months his letters were very fre
to myself than her. “· First young love, - quent, and as the time approached for
parting gift,—Cousin Harry proves fic- his return they grew increasingly cheer
kle, Aunt Linny banishes the Button- ful, and — Katy, I cannot but excuse my
Rose from her window,-takes to books self in part, when I recall the magic
and educating naughty nieces, and doing charm of those letters. But no matter ;
good to everybody,— bearing to live, as all of a sudden they ceased, and for sev
more heroic than daring to die,'— in ten cral weeks not a word was heard from
years gets so that she can speak of it him by his own family. At length,
with composure, as a lesson to roman- when my anxiety had become wellnigh
tic girls. So ? ” intolerable, there came a brief letter to
“ Even so, Katy !" she replied , quietly ; his father, announcing his marriage with
" and to that early disappointment I owe the sister of his brother's wife, and his
more than to anything that ever befell decision to enter into business with his
me.” brother . ”
She said this with a smile ; but her “ Did you know anything of the young
voice trembled a little, and I perceived lady ? ”
that a soft dew bad gathered over her " He had once or twice mentioned her
eyes. By an irresistible impulse I rose , in his letters as a beautiful, amiable crea
and stealing softly behind her, clasped ture, whose education had been shame
my arms round ber neck, and kissing fully neglected. Her kindness to him in
her forehead whispered, “ Forgive me, his illness and loneliness, added to her
sweet Aunty ! " natural charms, won his heart, no doubt.
“ Not a bit of harm , Katy," she re- Many a wise man has been caught in
plied, drawing me down for a warm kiss. that snare . "
1857.] The Button - Rose. 203

“ But what base conduct towards you ! ” which all the flowers bad vanished, a sort
“ Not at all, my dear ! My dream of tender self -pity, filled my heart. It is
had suffused his words with its own col- not worth while to detail the whole pro
oring, —that all. As soon as reason cess by which I gradually forced myself
could make her voice heard , I acquitted out of this miserable state . One thing
him of all blame. his feelings towards helped me much . As soon as the first
me had been those of a brother ,—no bitterness of my heart was passed, I saw
more . " clearly that the indulgence of such a
“ But why, then, did he cease to write ? sentiment towards one who was now the
why not share his new happiness with so husband of another could not be inno
dear a friend ? " cent. It must not be merely concealed ;
" That was not unnatural, after what it must be torn up, root and branch.
he had said of the young lady's defi- With this steadily before my mind as
ciencies. Probably the awkwardness of the central point of my efforts, I worked
the thing led him to defer writing from my way step by step. First came the
time to time, till he had become so ab- removal of the numerous little memen
sorbed in his domestic relations and his tos of those happy days in dreamland,
business, that he had ceased to think of the sight of which softened my heart
it. Life's early dewdrops often exhale into weakness and vain regret. Next I
in that way, Kate ! ” threw aside my favorite, works of imag
“ Then life is a hateful stupidity !" ination and feeling, and for two years
“ Yes ; if it could be morning all day, read scarcely a book which did not se
and childhood could outlast our whole verely task my mind. I devoted my
lives, it would be very charming. But self more to my mother, and interested
life has jewels that don't exhale, Kate, myself in the poor and sick. Last, not
but sparkle brightest in the hottest sun . least, I resolved on taking the whole
These lie deep in the earth, and to dig charge of your education, Katy ; and
them out requires more than a child's of my various specifics, I think I would
strength of heart and arm . One must recommend the training of such an elf
be well inured to toil and weather before as the sovereignest remedy ' for first
le can win these treasures ; but when love. The luxuriant growth of your
once he wears these in his bosom he character interested, stimulated, kept me
2
doesn't sigh for dewdrops." perpetually on the alert. I soon began
· Well, let me hear how you were in- to work con amore at this task ; my
ured . " spirits caught at times the contagious
“ The news of this marriage revealed gayety of yours ; my poor heart was re
to me, as by a flash of lightning, my freshed by your warm childish love. In
whole inner world of feeling. When I short, I began to live again. But, ah !
knew that he was forever lost, I first dear Kate, it was a long, stern conflict.
knew what he had become to mc. The Many, many months, yes, years, passed
pangs of disappointment, of self-humilia- by, cre those troubled waters became
tion, I hardly know which were the clear and still. But I held firmly on
stronger,—were like poisoned arrows in my way, and the full reward came at
my heart. It was my first trouble, and I last. By degrees I had created within
had to bear it in silence and alone. Not and around me a new world of interest
for worlds would I have had it guessed and activity, in which this little whirlpool
that I had cherished an unreturned af- of morbid feeling became an insignificant
fection , and it would have killed me to point. I was conscious of the birth of
hear him blamed. Towards him I had, nuw energies, of a bolder and steadier
in my most secret heart, no emotion of sweep of thought, of fuller sympathies,
resentment or reproach. A feeling of of that settled quiet and harmony of soul
dreary loss, of a long, weary life from which are to be gained only in the school
204 The Button - Rose. [ December ,
of self-discipline. That dream of my the tea -table in the grape arbor, and
youth now lies like a soft cloud far off in then invite grandpapa to a feast of
the horizon, beautiful with the morning strawberries and cream . "
tints of memory, but casting no shadow . ” I hastily ornamented our rural ban
She paused; then added, in a lively quet-hall with long branches of roses
tone : “ Well, Kate, the fifteen minutes and honeysuckles in full bloom , stuck
are not out, and yet my story is done. into the leafy roof. As we sat chatting
Think you now it would really have and laughing over our simple treat, a
been better to go a -swinging on a wil- humming -bird darted several times in
low -tree over a pond, and so have made and out. “ A messenger ! ” whispered I
a good poetical end ? ” to Aunt Linny. “Depend upon it,
“ Oh, I am so glad you were not such Cousin Harry didn't marry the English
"
a goose as to make a swan of yourself, lady."
like poor Ophelia ! ” said I, throwing my CHAPTER III.
arms around her, and giving her half a
dozen kisses. “ But tell me truly, was The next morning I slept late. Fan
I indeed such a blessing to you, the cy had all night been busy, con bining
very cherubim that did preserve thee ' ? ber old and new materials into many a
To think of the repentance I have wild shape . After iny aunt had risen at
wasted over my childish naughtiness, her usual carly hour, I fell into one of
when it was all inspired by your good those balıy morning-naps which make
angel ! I shall take heed to this hint. ” up for a whole night's unrest. I dreamed
“ Do so , Kate, and your good angel still, but the visions floated by with that
will doubtless inspire in me a suitable sweet changeful play which soothes
response .” rather than fatigues the brain . The
66

But tell me now, Aunt Linny, who principal objects were always the same ;
the living man was. Was he a real but the combination shifted every in
cousin ? " stant, as by the turn of a kaleidoscope.
“ I may as well tell you , Kate, or you At length they arranged themselves in aa
6
will get it from your familiar.' You lovely miniature scene in a convex mir
have heard of our rich cousin in Cuba, ror . There bloomed the little Button
Henry Morrison ? ” Rose in the centre, and above it the
" Oh, yes ; I have heard grandfather humming-bird glanced and murmured ,
speak of him . So, then, he was Cousin and now and then darted his slender
Harry ! I should like one chance at his bill deep into the bosom of the flowers.
hair, for all his goodness. Did you ever With hands clasped above this central
meet again ? ” object, as if exchanging vows upon an
“ Never. His father's family soon re- altar, stood the young human pair. Of
moved to a distant place, so that there a sudden, old Cornelius Agrippa was in
was no necessity for visiting the old the room , robed in a black scholar's
home. But I have always heard him gown, over which his snowy beard de
spoken of as an upright merchant and scended nearly to his knees. Stretching
cultivated and generous man . He has forth a long white wanıl, he touched the
resided several years in Cuba. A year picture, and immediately a wedding pro
or two sincc, he went to Europe for his cession began to move out of the magic
wife's health, and there she died . Ru- crystal, the figures, as they emerged,
mor now reports him as about to be- assuming the size of life. First tripped
come the husband of an Englishwoman a numerous train of white-robed little
of high connections. I should be very maidens, scattering flowers ; then came a
glad to see him once more . — But come priest in surplice and bands, holding be
now, Kate, let's have a decennial cele- fore him a great open service-book ; after
bration of our two anniversaries. Lay him, the bridal pair, attended by their
1857.) The Button - Rose. 205

friends. But by an odd trick of fancy, the would come round somehow , and we
bridegroom , who looked very stately and should finish the romance in style.”
66
happy, appeared with the china flower- “ Why, Kate, do you really wish to
pot containing the Button -Rose balanced get rid of me ? ”
on the end of his nose ! Awaked by my “ No, indeed ! I wouldn't have you ac
own laughter at this comical sight, I cept his old withered heart for the world .
opened my eyes and found Aunt Linny But I wanted you to have the tri
sitting on the bedside and laughing with umph of rejecting it. • Indeed, my dear
me .
cousin ,' — thus you should have said , “ I
" I should have waked you before, shall always be interested in you as a
Katy,” said she, “if you had not seemed kinsman, but I can never love you." "
to be enjoying yourself so much. Come, “ Kate is crazed ! ” she exclaimed, in
unfold your dream . I presume it will a voice of despair. " Why, dear child ,
save me the trouble of telling you the there is not a shadow of foundation for
contents of this wonderful epistle which this nonsense . I am heartily glad at the
I hold in my hand.” thought of seeing my cousin once more,
“ It's from Cousin Harry ! Huzza ! ” and all the gladder that he brings a wife
cried I, springing up to snatch it. with him . Will you read the letter ? "
But she held it out of my reach . I read it twice, and then asked ,
" Softly ! good Mistress Fortuneteller," " Where does he mention his wife ? "
said she. 66
• Read me the letter without Why, there, —don't you see? ' I shall
seeing it, and then I shall know that you bring with me a young lady, whom ,
can tell the interpretation thereof." though a stranger and a foreigner, I
“ Of course it's from Cousin Harry. trust you will be pleased to welcome.'
That's what the humming-bird came to Isn't that plain ? ”
say last night. As for the contents - The inference seemed suſficiently nat
he's not married ,—his heart turns to the ural ; but the slight uncertainty was
sister - friend of his youth,-he yearns to the basis of many entertaining dreams
look into her lustrous orbs once more, through the day. I resolved to hold
she alone, he finds, is the completion of
fast my faith in romance till the last
his • Ich. He hastens across the dark moment. Towards evening, when the
blue sea ; soon will she behold him at parlors and guest-chambers had received
her feet. ” the last touches, when the silver had
“ Alas, poor gypsy, thou hast lost thy been polished, the sponge-cake and tarts
silver penny this time. The letter is in- baked, and our own toilette made,
deed from Cousin Harry, and that of when, in short, nothing remained to be
itself is one of life's wonders. But it is done, my excitement and impatience
addressed with all propriety to his . ven- rose to the highest pitch. I ran repeat
erable uncle.' He arrived from Europe edly down the avenue, and finally
a month since, and being now on a mounted with a pocket-telescope to the
tour for health and pleasure, proposes top of the house for a more extensive
to make a basty call on his relatives survey.
and visit the old homestead. He brings “ See you aught, Sister Annie ? "
his bride with him . Now, Kate, be stir- called my aunt from below .
ring; they will be here to -night, and we “ Nothing yet, good Fatima ! - spin
must look our prettiest.” out thy prayers a little longer. Stay ! a
“ The hateful, prosy man ! I'll not do cloud of dust, a horseman ! no doubt
anything to make his visit agreeable ," an outrider hastening on to announce
said I, pettishly . his approach. Ah ! he passes, the stupid
“ Why, Kate, what are you conjuring clown ! Another ! Nay, that was only
up in your foolish little noddle ? " a Derby wagon ; the stars forbid that
“ Oh, I supposed an éclaircissement our deliverer should come in a Derby !
206 The Button - Rose. [ December,
But now, hush ! there's a bonâ fide • Why, this is she ,—this young Cuban !
barouche, two black horses, black driver Whom else did you look for ? ” was the
and all. Almost at the turn ! O gen- reply, in a tone of surprise, and, as it
tle Ethiopian, tarry ! this is the castle ! seemed to me, of slight vexation .
Go, then, false man ! Fatima, thy last " We expected a lady with a few more
hope is past ! No, they stop ! the gentle- years on her head," interposed grand
66
man looks out ! he waves his hand this papa ; “ but the little pet is just as wel
way ! Aunt Linny, 'tis he! the carriage come. There, Katy, this curly-pate will
is coming up the avenue ! " So saying, answer as well as a wax doll for you."
I threw down the telescope and flew to The dear old gentleman could never
her room . realize that I was grown up to be a
“ You are right, Kate, it must be he,” woman. Of course , I was now intro
said she, glancing through the window, duced in due form , and we went to
and then following me quietly down gether up the steps.
stairs. “ Hlow pleasant, how familiar all things
The carriage stopped, and we all went look ! ” said our visitor, pausing and gaz
down the steps to receive our long ab- ing round him. “ Why, uncle, you must
sent relative. A tall, pale gentleman in bave had your house, and yourself, and
black sprang out and came hurriedly everything about you insured against old
towards us. He looked much older than age. Nothing has changed except to
I had expected ; but the next instant the improve. I sce the very picture I car
flash of bis black eye, and the eloquent ried with me ten years ago."
smile which lighted up his pensive coun- The tears stood in my grandfather's
tenance as with a sunbeam , brought back eyes. “ You have forgotten one great
the Cousin Harry of ten years ago. He change , dear nephew ," said he ; " against
returned my grandfather's truly paternal that we could find no insurance."
greeting with the most affectionate cor- “ How could I forget ? ” was the an
diality ; but with scarce a reply to my swer, in a low tone, full of feeling, his
aunt's frank welcome, gave her his arm , own eyes filling with moisture. “ My
and made a movement towards the dear aunt ! I shed many tears with and
house. for you , when I heard of her death . " He
“ But, cousin,” said she, smiling, “ what looked extremely amiable at this moment ;
gem have you there, hidden in the car- I knew that I should love him.
riage, too precious to be seen ? We My aunt smiled through her tears, and
have a place in our hearts for the fair said, very sweetly, “ The thought of her
stranger, I assure you." should cheer, and not cloud our meeting.
" Ah, poor thing ! I had quite forgot- Her presence never brought me sorrow ,
ten her,” said he, coloring and laughing, nor does her remembrance. Come, dear,"
as he turned towards the carriage. she added, cheerfully, taking the child's
Aunt Linny and I exchanged mirth- hand, “ come in and rest your poor little
ful glances at this treatment of a bride; tired self. Kate, find the white kitten
but the next instant he had lifted out for her. A prettier one you never saw
and led towards us a small female per- in France or Cuba, Miss Carrie ,—that's
sonage, who, when her green veil was what papa calls you, I supposco ?? "
thrown aside, proved to be a lovely girl “ It used to be my name,” said the
of some seven or eight years. little smiler ; “ but papa always calls me
“ Permit me,” said he, smiling, “ to Linny now ,because he thinks it swecter.”
present Miss Caroline Morrison, sole
daughter of my house and heart. ' " “ What say you to the humming-bird
“ But the stranger, the foreign lady ? " now ? " I whispered to my aunt, as we
inquired Aunt Linny, as she kissed and were a moment alone in the tea - room .
66
welcomed the child . “ Kate, I wish you were fifty miles off
1857. ] The Button - Rose. 207

at this moment ! It was no good angel were full of witchery. Mont Blanc at
that deluded me into telling you that sunrise, the wild scenery of the Sim
foolish tale last evening. Indeed, Kate," plon, the exhumed streets of Pompeii,
added she, earnestly, “ you will seriously the Colosseum by moonlight, those won
compromise me, if you are not more care- drous galleries of painting and sculpture
ful. Promise me that you will not make of wbich I had read as I had read of
one more allusion of this kind, even to the palace of Aladdin and the gardens
me, while they remain ! ” of the genii, —the living man before
“ But I may give you just a look, now me had seen all these ! I looked upon
and then ? " him as an ambassador from the world
“Do you wish me to repent having of poetry. But even this interested me
trusted you, Kate ? " less than the tone of high and manly
“ I promise, aunty ,—by my faith in first sentiment by which his conversation was
love ! " pervaded, the feeling reminiscences of
“ Nonsense ! Go, call them to tea . " endeared friendships formed in those
far -off lands, the brief glimpses of deep
CHAPTER IV. sorrows bravely borne ; and I watched
with a sweet, sly pleasure my aunt's
Our kinsman had been casily per- quiet surrender to the old spell.
suaded to remain with us a week, and a " It makes me very happy, Kate,” said
charming weck it had been to all of us. she one day, “to have found my cousin
He hail visited all the West India Islands, and friend again. I am glad to feel that
and the most interesting portions of Eng- friendships springing from the pure and
land and the Continent. My grandfather, good feelings of the heart are not so
who, as the commander of his own mer- transient as I have sometimes been
chant-ship, had formerly visited many tempted to think them. They may be
foreign countries, was delighted to refresh buried for years under a drift of new in
his recollections of distant scenes, and to terests; but give them air, and they will
live over again his adventures by sca and live again."
land. The conversation of our guest “ What is that remark of Byron about
with his uncle was richly instructive and young ladies’ friendship ? Take care ,
entertaining ; for he had a lively appre- take care ! ” said I, shaking my head,
66
ciation of national and individual charac- gravely ; " receive the warning of a calm
ter, and could illustrate them by a world observer ! ”
of amusing anecdote. The old veteran's “ Oh, no, Kate ! this visit is but a little
early fondness for his nephew revived in green oasis in the desert. In a day or
full force, and his enjoyment was alloyed two we shall separate, probably forever ;
only by the dread of a new separation . but both, I doubt not, will be happier
“ What shall I do when you are gone, through life for this brief reunion . His
Harry !" was his frequent exclamation ; plan is to make his future residence in
and then he woul d sigh and shake his Fran ce . "
head, and wish he had one son left. At the end of the week our kinsman
But the richest treat for my aunt and left us for a fortnight's visit to the me
me was reserved till the late evening, tropolis. Intending to give us a call on
when the dear patriarch had retired his return south, he willingly complied
to rest. Those warm , balmy nights on with our desire to leave his little girl with
the piazza, with the moonlight quiver- us. As we were sitting together in my
ing through the vines, and turning the aunt's room after his departure, the child
terraced lawn with fantastic mixture of brought her a small packet which her
light and shadow into a fairy scene, father had intrusted to her. “ I believe ,”
while the cultivated traveller discoursed said the little smiler, “ he said it was a
of all things beautiful in nature and art, story for you to read . Won't you please
208 The Button - Rose. [ December,
to read it to me ? ” She took it with a was sealing this letter, "you see, Katy,
look of surprise and curiosity, and imine- that your romance has come to an un
diately opened it and began to read. timely end.”
But ber color soon began to vary , her I turned round her averted face with
hand trembled, and presently laying down both my bands, and looked in her eyes
the sheets in her lap, she sat lost in till she blushed and laughed in spite of
thought. herself.
“ It seems a moving story ! I re “ My knowledge of symptoms is not
marked, dryly. large,” said I, “ but I have a conviction
“ Kate, this is the strangest affair !- that his health will now endure a north
But I can't tell you now ; I must read it ern climate.”
first alone . " " Let's talk no more of this ! ” said she,
She left the room , and I heard the putting me aside with a gentle gravity,
key turn in the lock as she entered which checked my nonsense . But as I
another chamber. In about an hour was unable to detect in her, on this or
she came out very composedly, and said the following day, the slightest depression
nothing more on the subject. of spirits, I sbrewilly guesseel that our
After our little guest was asleep at anticipations of the result were not very
night, I could restrain myself no longer. dissimilar.
“ You are treating me shabbily, aunty,"
9 The next return post brought, not the
6.
said I. “ See if I am ever a good girl expected letter, but our hero himself. I
again to please you ! " was really amazed at the change in his
“ You shall know it all, Katy ; I only appearance. Erect, elastic, his face ra
wished to think it over first by myself. diant with expression, he looked years
There, take the letter ; but make no younger than at his first arrival. I caught
note or comment till I mention it again ." Aunt Linny's eloquent glance of surprise
and pleasure as they met. For a mo
The letter of Cousin Harry seemed to ment the bridal pair of my dream stood
me rather matter-of-fact, I must confess, living before me ; then vanished even
till near the end, where he spoke of a lit- more suddenly than that fancy show of
tle nosegay which he enclosed, and which the old magician. When we again met,
would speak to her of dear old times. two or three hours after, my aunt's se
“ But where is the nosegay , aunty ? ” rene smile and dewy eyes told me that
With aa beautiful flush , as if the sunset all was right.
of that vanished day were reddening the
sky of memory, she drew a small packet In a month the wedding took place,
9
from her bosom , and in it I found a and the « happy pair ” started off on a
withered rose -bud tied up with a shriv- few weeks' excursion . As I was helping
elled sprig of inignonette. my aunt exchange her bridal for her
I am afraid that my Aunt Linny's an- travelling attire, I whispered , “ What
swer was a great deal more proper tan say you to my doctrine of first love,
I should have wished ; and yet, with all aunty ? ”
its emphatic expressions of duty towards " That it finds its best refutation in my
her father and the impossibility of leaving experience . No, believe nie, dearest
him , there must have been something bi- Katy, the true jewel of life is a spirit
tween the lines which I could not read . that can rulc itself, that can suhject even
I have since discovered that all such the strongest, dearest impulses to reason
epistles have their real meaning con- and duty. Without it, indeed ,” she add
cealed in some kind of more rarefied ed, with a soft carnestness, “ affection to
sympathetic ink, which betrays itself only wards the worthiest object becomes an un
under the burning hands of a lover. worthy sentiment. And besides, Kate, "
“ So, then ,” said Aunt Linny, as she -here her eye gleamed with girlish mirth
1857.] Our Birds, and their Ways. 209

-" you see, if I had made love my all, I you don't believe in it, ' tis sure to come
should have missed it all. Not even Cousin true. "
Harry's constancy would have been proof “ Take care, then, and disbelieve in it
against a withered, whining, sentimental with all your might ! ” said she, laughing,
old maid . " and kissing me, as we left her room ,
“ Well, you will allow that it's a great my room alone henceforth. A shadow
paradox, aunty ! If you believe in my seemed to fill it, as she passed the thresh
doctrine, it turns out a mere delusion ; if old.

OUR BIRDS, AND THEIR WAYS.

Among our summer birds, the vast from one district to another. Besides
majority are but transient visitors, born
these, perhaps some of the bawks and
and bred far to the northward , and re- owls remain here throughout the year.
turning thither every year. The North, But the species I have named are the
then, is their proper domicile, their legal only ones that occur to me as equally
“ place of residence,” which they have numerous at all seasons in the immedi
never renounced , but only temporarily ate vicinity of Boston, and never out of
desert, for special reasons. Their so town, whether you take the census in
journ with us, or farther south, is merely May or in January.
an exile by stress of climate, like the In spite of our uninterrupted acquaint
flitting of the Southern planters from the ance with them , however, there are still
rice-fields to the mountains in summer, many of the nearest questions concerning
or the pleasure tour or watering-place these birds for which I find no suffi
visit customary with the citizens of Bos- cient answers. Even to the first question
ton and New York . -

-How do they get their living ? —there

The lower orders, such as the hum- are only vague replies in the books.
ming-bird with his insect-like stomach There is the crow , for example. I
and sucking -tube, and so on up through have seen crows in the neighborhood of
the warblers and flycatchers, more strict- Boston every week of the year, and in
ly bound by the necessities of their life, not very different numbers. My friend
closely follow the sun ,—while the upper- the ornithologist said to me last winter,
ten -thousand , the robins, cedar-birds, spar- “ You will see that they will be off as
rows, etc., like man , omnivorous in their soon as the ground is well covered with
diet and their attendant chevaliers d'in- snow.” But on the contrary, when the
dustrie, the rapacious birds, allow them- snow came, and after it had lain deep
selves greater latitude, and go and come on the fields for many days, I saw
occasionally at all seasons, though in more than before, — probably because
general tending to the south in winter they found it easier to get food in the
and north in summer. But precedence neighborhood of the houses and culti
before all is due to permanent residents, vated grounds.
with whom our intercourse is not of this A crow must require certainly half a
transitory and fair -weather sort. Such pound of animal food, or its equivalent,
are the crow , the blue jay, the chicka- daily, in order to keep from starving.
dee, the partridge, and the quail, who Yet they not only do not starve that I
may be called regular inhabitants, though hear of, but seem to keep in as good case
perhaps all of them wander occasionally in winter as in summer, though what
VOL . I. 14
210 Our Birds, and their Ways. [ December,
they find to eat is not immediately ap- Meanwhile his hunting went on as if he
parent. The vague traditional sugges still had his living to get, and lie would
tion of " carrion ," as of dead horses and watch for field -mice, or come olving in
the like, does not help us much. Some from the woods with a squirrel swinging
scraps doubtless may be left lying about from his claws, either for variety's sake,
but any reliable stores of this kind are or because he had really forgotten the
hardly to be looked for in this neighbor- stores he had laid up. Scattered maga
hood . A few scattered kernels of corn , zines of this kind , established in tiines of
perhaps on a pinch a few berries, he may accidental plenty, may render life dur
pick up ; though I suspect the crow is ing our winters possible to the crow .
somewhat human in his tastes, and, be- But why should be give himself so
sides animal food , affects only the cereals. much trouble to subsist bere, when a few
The frogs are deep in the mud . Now hours' work with those broad wings would
and then a squirrel or a mouse may be bear him to a land of tropical abundance ?
had ; but they are mostly dozing in their The crow , it seems, is not a mere cating
holes. As for larger game, rabbits and and drinking machine, drawn hither and
the like, the crow is hardly nimble enough thither by the balance of supply and
for them , nor are his claws well adapted demand, but has his motives of another
for seizing ; anything of this kind he will sort. Is it, perhaps, some local attach
scarcely get, except as the leavings of ment, so that a crow hatched in Brook
the weasel or skunk. These he will not line, for example, would be more loath
refuse ; for though he is of a different than another to quit that neighborhood, —
species from the carrion crow of Europe, a sort of crow patriotism , akin to that
with whom he was formerly confounded, which keeps the Greenlanders slowly
yet he is of similar, though perhaps less starving of cold and hunger on that
extreme, tastes as to his food . But when awful coast of theirs.
the ground is freshly covered with snow, It is not probable, however, that the
all supplies of this sort would seem to be crow allows himself to suffer much from
cut off, for the time at least. Yet who these causes ; he is far too knowing for
ever found a starved crow , or even saw that, and shows his position at the head
one driven by hunger from any of his of the bird kind by an almost total eman
accustomed caution ? He is ever the cipation from scruples and prejudices,
same alert, vivacious, harsh-tongued wan- and by the facility with which he adapts
derer over the white fields as over the himself to special cases. Instinct works
summer meadows. by formulas, which, as it were , make up
A partial solution of the mystery is to the animal, so that the ant and the bee
he found in the habit which the bird has are atoms of incarnate constructiveness
in common with most of the crow kind , and acquisitiveness, and nothing else.
of depositing any surplus food in a place And as intelligence, when its action is
of satety for future use . A tame crow
cr too narrowly concentrated, whether upon
that I saw last year was constantly em- pin -making or money -making, tends to
ploved in this way. As soon as his han- degenerate into mere instinct,-so in
ger was satisfied, if a piece of meat was stinct, when it begins to compare, and
given to him , he flew off to some remote to except, and to vary its action accord
spot, and there covered it up with twigs ing to circumstances, shows itself in the
and leaves. I was told that the woods act of passing into intelligence. This
were full of these caches of his. Bits marks the superiority of the crow over
of bread and the like he was too well- birds it often resembles in its actions.
fed to care much about, but he would Most birds are wary. The crow is wary ,
generally go through the form of covering and something more. Other shy birds,
them , at your very feet, with aa little ruh- for instance ducks, avoid every strange
bish, not taking the trouble to hide them. object. The crow considers whether
1857.] Our Birds, and their Ways. 211

there be anything dangerous in the attracting my attention . When he bad

strangeness. An ordinary scarecrow succeeded, he flew off with loud, joyous
will not keep our crow from anything caws to the top of the house, where I
worth a little risk . He fathoms the heard him rolling nuts or acorns from
scarecrow, compares its behavior, under the ridge, and flying to catch them before
various circumstances, with that of the they fell off.
usual wearer of its garments, and decides Their independence of seasons is shown
to take the risk . To protect his corn , also in their habit of associating in about
the farmer takes advantage of this very equal numbers throughout the year. In
discursiveness, and stretches round the the spring the flocks are more noticeable,
field a simple live, nothing in itself, but hovering about some grove of pines, fly
linting at some undeveloped mischief ing straight up in the air and swooping
which the bird cannot penetrate . down again with an uninterrupted cawing,
Again, the crow is sometimes looked -seeniingly a sort of crow ball, with a
upon as a mere marauder ; but this de view to match -making. Afterwards they
scription also is much too narrow for him . become more silent, and apparently more
He is anxious only for his dinner, and solitary, but still fly out to their feeding
swallows seed -corn and noxious grubs grounds morning and evening; and if
with perfect impartiality. He is not a you sit down in the woods near one of
mere pirate, living by plunder alone, but their nests, the uneasy choking chuckle ,
rather like the old Phænician sea - farer, ending at last in the outright cawing of
indifferently honest or robber as occa- the disturbed owner, will generally be
sion serves,—and robber not from fierce- answered from every point, and crow
ness of disposition, but merely from utter after crow come edging up from tree to
unscrupulousness as to means. tree to see what is the matter.
This is shown in his docility. A hawk Though all of the crow tribe are no
or an cagle is never tamed , but a crow is torious for their harsh voices, yet if the
more casily and completely tamable than power of inimicry be considered as a
the gentlest singing-bird . The one I mark of superiority, the crow has claims
have just spoken of, though hardly six to high rank in this department also.
months from the nest, would allow him- The closest imitators of the human voice
self to be handled by his owner, and are birds of this family : for instance, the
:

would suffer even a stranger to touch
him . When I first came near the house,
he greeted me with a suppressed caw,
and llew along some hundred yards just
over my head, looking down, first with
onc eye and then with the other, to get
a complete view of the stranger. Next
morning I became aware , when but half
awake, of a sort of mewing sound in the
neighborhood, and at last looking around,
I saw through the window, which opened
to the floor, my new acquaintance perch-
ed on the porch roof, which was at the
same level, turning his head from side to
side, and eyeing me through the glass ordinary voice, that, though assured by
with divers queer contortions and ges-
ticulations, reminding me of some odd,
old , dried -up French dancing-master, and
with a varied succession of croakings,
now high, now low, evidently bent upon
Mino bird . Our crow also is a vocal
mimic , and that not in the matter-of
course way of the mocking-bird, but, as
it were , more individual and spontane
ous. He is not merely an imitator of
the human voice, like the parrots, (and
a better one as regards tone,) nor of
other birds, like the thrushes, but com
bines both . The tame crow already
mentioned very readily undertook ex
tempore imitations of words, and with
considerable success . I once heard a
crow imitate the warbling of a small bird,
in a tone so entirely at variance with his
one who had heard him before, that it
was a crow and nothing else, it was only
on the clearest proof that I could satisfy
myself of the fact. It seemed to be quite
an original and individual performance.
212 Onur Birds, and their ways. [ December,
The bire jay is a bear relative of the rows apparently frozen to death , bat tie
CIOR , and, like him , omnivorous, harsb- extravasation of blood usual in such
vowed, predmetus, a robber of birds' cases leares us in doubt sbether some
Deta ; so that if you hear the robins dur- accident may not have first disabled the
ing their pesting -time making an unusual bind ; and if dead birds are more often
clamor atacut the bouse, the chances are found in winter than in summer, it may
you will get a glimre of this brilliant be only that the body keeps longer, and,
maraud 7, staking away with a troop of from the absence of grass and leaves, and
them in purust. His usual voice is a the white covering of the ground, is more
harsh tear , but he has sone low flute- readily seen . A: all events, such speci
like notes not without meloly. The mens are not usually emaciated, and
prince of a bawk, or more particularly sometimes they are in remarkably good
an owl in the woods, is often made known case , which, considering the rapid cir
by the screaming of the jays, who flock culation and the corresponding waste of
wrzesther about him with ever- increasing the body, shows that the cold had not
noise , like a trop of jackals about a lion, affected their activity and their power
pressing in upon him closer and closer of obtaining food.
in a paroxysmn of excitement, while the The truth is, that birds are remarkably
owl, thus taken at discuivantage , sidles well guarded against cold by their quick
along his bough seeking concealment, circulation , their dense covering of down
and at length softly flaps off to some and feathers, and the case with which
more updisturbed retreat. they can protect their extremities. The
The blue jay is a shy bird, but he is chickadee is never so lively as in clear,
enough of a crow to take a risk where cold weather ; -not that he is absolutely
anything is to be had for it, and in winter
insensible to cold ; for on those days, rare
in this neighborhood, when the mer :ury
will come close to the house for food . In
his choice of a nesting -place he seems at
falls to fifteen degrees or more below
first sight to show less than his usual cau-
zero, the chickadee shows by his behav
tion ; for, though the nest is a very con-
jor that he, too , feels it to be an excep
spicuous one, it is generally made in a tional state of things. Of such a morning
pine sapling not far from the ground, and I have seen a small flock of them col
often on a path or other opening in the lected on the sunny side of a thick hem
woods. But perhaps, in the somewhat lock, rather silent and quiet, with ruffled
remote situations where he builds, the plumage, like balls of gray fur, waiting,
danger is less from below than from birds with an occasional chirp, for the sun's
of prey sailing overhead . I once found rays to begin to warm them up, and
a blue jay's nest on a path in the woods meanwhile not depressed , but only a
somewhat frequented by me, but not of- little sobered in their deportment, and
ten trodden by any one else, and passed it ready, if the cold continued , to get used
twice on different days, and saw the bird to that too.
Bitting, but took some pains not to alarm The matter of food -supply during the
her. The next time, and the next, she winter for the smaller birds is more easily
was not there ; and on examination I understood than in the case of the crow .
found the nest empty, thongh with no The seeds of grasses and the taller sum
marks of having been robbed. There mer flowers, and of the birches, alders,
was not time for the eggs to have hatched and maples, furnish supplies that are not
and it was plain, that, finding herself ob- interfered with by cold or snow ; also
served , she had carried them off. the buds of various trees and shrubs ,
As a general thing, the severity of our for the buds do not first come into ex
winters does not seem much to affect the istence in the spring, as our city friends
birds that stay with us. I have found suppose , but are to be found all winter.
chickadees and some of the smaller spar- Nor is insect- life suspended at this sea
1857.] Our Birds, and their Ways. 213

son to the extent that a careless observer coveys are said to have been found dead,
might suppose. A sunny, sheltered nook , frozen stiff, under the bush where they
at any time during the winter, will show had huddled together for warmth ; and
you a variety of two-winged flies, and even before this extremity, their hard
several species of spiders, often in con- ships lay them open to their enemies,
siderable abundance, and as brisk as and the fox and the weasel, and the far
ever. And the numbers of eggs and mer's boy with his box-trap, destroy them
larvæ, and of the lurking tenants of crev- by wholesale. The deep snows of 1856
ices in tree -bark and dead wood , may be and 1857 have nearly exterminated them
guessed by the incessant and assuredly hereabouts ; and I was told at Ver
not aimless activity of the chickadees and gennes, in Vermont, that there were
goli crests and their associates. quails there many years ago, but that
This winter activity of the birds ought they had now entirely disappeared.
to be taken into account by those who The appearance and disappearance of
accuse them of mischief-doing in summer. species within our experience teach us
In winter, at least, no mischief can be that Nature's lists are not filled once for
done ; there is no fruit to steal ; and even all, but that the changes which geology
sap-sucking, if such a practice at any shows in past ages continue into the
time be not altogether fabulous, certainly present. Sometimes we can trace the
cannot be carried on now. Nothing can immediate cause , or rather occasion, as
be destroyed now except the fariner's in the case of the quail's congencrs, the
enemics, or at best neutrals. Yet the pinnated grouse, and the wild turkey,
birds keep at work all the time. both of them inhabitants of all parts of
The only bird that occurs to me as a the State in the early times. The pin
prored sufferer from famine in the win nated grouse has been seen near Boston
ter is the quail. This is the most limited within the present century, but is now
in its range of all our birds. Not only exterminated, I believe, except in Mar
does it not migrate, (or only excep- tha's Vineyard. The wild turkey was
tionally ,) but it does not even wander to be found not long since in Berkshire,
much , —the same covey kecping all the but probably it has become extinct there
year, and even year after year, to the too . Sometimes, for no reason that we
same fecding-ground. Nor does it ever can see, certain species forsake their
seek its food upon trees, like the par- old abodes, as the purple martin, which
tridge, but solely upon the ground. within the last quarter-century has re
The quail is our ncarest representatire ceded some twenty miles from the sea
of the common barn -yard fowl. This it board ,or appear where they were be
resembles in many respects, and among fore unknown, as the cliff swallow , which
others, in its habit of going a -foot, ex- was first seen in the neighborhood of the
cept when the covey crosses from one Rocky Mountains, but within about the
feeding or roosting ground to another, or same space of time has become as com
when the cock -bird mounts upon a rail- mon hereabouts as any of the genus.
fence or stone-wall to sound his call in In examples so conspicuous the move
the spring. This persistence exposes ment is obvious enough ; but in the case
the quail to hardship when the ground of rarer species, for instance, the olive
is covered with snow , and the fruit of the sided flycatcher, who can tell whether,
skunk -cabbage and all the berrics and when first observed, it was new to nat
grain are inaccessible. He takes refuge uralists merely, or to this part of the
at such times in the smilax-thickets, country, or to the earth generally ? The
whose dense, matted covering leaves distinction sometimes made in such cases
an open feeding-ground below . But a between accidental influences and the
snowy winter always tells upon their regular course of nature is a superficial
numbers in any neighborhood. Whole one. The regular course of nature is in
 214 Our Birds, and their Ways. [ December
itself a series of accidental influences ; sure to be one . All birds increase in
that is, the particular occasion is subser- numbers about settlements ,-cven the
rient to a general law with which it crow , though he is a forest bird too .
does not seem at first sight to have any Hence, no doubt, bas arisen the notion
connection . A severe winter may be that the crow (supposed to be of tho
sufficient to kill the quails, just as the saine species with the European ) made
ancient morass was sufficient to drown his appearance in this country fint on
the mastodon . But the question is, why the Atlantic coast, and gradually spread
these causes began to operate just at westward, passing through the State of
these times. We may as well stop with New York about the time of the Revolu
the evident fact, that the unresting cir- tion. I was told some years since by a
culation is forever going on in the uni- resident of Chicago, that the quails had
verse increased eight-fold in that vicinity since
But if the quail, who is here very near he came there. The fact is, that the
his northern limits, has a hard time of it bird population, like the buman , in the
in the winter, and is threatened with such absence of counteracting causes, will
“ removal ” as we treat the Indians to, continue to expand in precise ratio to
his relative, the partridge, our other gal- the supply of food. The partridge goes
linaceous or hen -like bird, is of a tougher farther north than the quail , and is
libre, as you see when you come upon found throughout the United States.
his star-like tracks across the pathi, eight With us he affects high and rocky
or nine inches apart, and struck sharp ground, but northward he keeps at a
and deep in the snow, or closer together lower level. At the White Mountains,
among the bushes, where he stretched up the regions of this species and of the
for barberries or buds, anıl ending on Canada grouse or spruce partridge are
either side with a series of fine parallel as well defined in height as those of the
cuts, where the sharp -pointed quills maples and the “ black growth .” Still
struck the snow as he rose, –a picture further north I have observed that our
of vigor and success. Ile knows how to partridge frequents the lowest marshy
take care of himself, and to find both ground, thus equalizing his climate in
food and shelter in the evergreens, when every latitude.
the snow lies fresh upon the ground. There are few of our land -birds that
There, in some sunny glade among the flock together in summer, and few that
pines, he will ensconce himself in the are solitary in winter, -- none that I recol
thickest branches, and whir off as you lect, except birds of prey. And not only
come near , sailing down the opening do birds of the same kind associate, but
with his body balancing from side to certain species are almost always found
side. together. Thus, the chickadee, the gold
The partridge is altogether a wilder cn - crested wren , the white -breasted nut
and more solitary bird than the quail, hatch, and, less constantly, the brown
and does not frequent cultivated fiells, creeper and the downy woodpecker, form
nor make his nest in the orchard, as the a little winter clique, of which you do not
quail does, but prefers the shelf of some often see one of the members without
rocky ledge under the shadow of the one or more of the others. No sound in
pines in remote woods. He is one of the nature more chcery and refreshing than
few birds found in the forest ; for it is the alternating calls of a little troop of this
a mistake to suppose that birds abound kind echoing through the gladles of the
in the forest, or avoid the neighborhood woods on a still, sunny day in winter :
of man . On the contrary , you may pass the vivacious chatter of the chickadee,
days and weeks in our northern woods the slender, contented pipe of the gold .
without seeing more than half a dozen crest, and the emphatic, business-like
species, of which the partridge is pretty hank of the nuthatch, as they drift leis
1857.] Our Birds, and their Ways. 215

urely along from tree to tree. The impels them to these occasional wander
winter seems to be the season of holiday ings it is difficult to guess ; it is obvious
enjoyinent to the chickadee, and he is ly not mere stress of weather; for in
never so evidently and conspicuously 1836, as I have remarked, they came
contented as in very cold weather. In early in autumn and continued resident
summer he withdraws to the thickets, and until late in the spring ; and their food,
becomes less noisy and active. His plus being mainly the buds of resinous trees,
mage becomes dull, and his brisk note must have been as easy to get elsewhere
changes to a fine, delicate pēë-pě-wy, or as here. Their coming, like the crow's
oftenest a mere whisper. They are so staying, is a mystery to us.
much less noticeable at this scason that I have spoken only of the land -birds ;
one might suppose they had followed but the position of our city, so embraced
their gold -crest companions to the North, by the sea, afforils unusual opportuni
as sone of them doubtless do, but their ties for observing the sea-birds also . All
nests are not uncommon with us. Fear- winter long, fro: n the most crowded thor
less as the chickadee is in winter,-so fear- oughfares of the city, any one, who has
less, that, if you stand still, he will alight leisure enough to raise his eyes over
upon your head or shoulder, -in sunimer the level of the roofs to the tranquil air
he becoines cautious about his nest, and above, may see the gulls passing to and
will desert it, if much watched. They fro between the harbor and the flats
build here, generally, in a partly decayed at the mouth of Charles River. The
white-birch or apple-tree, excavating a gulls, and particularly that cosmopolite,
hole eighteen inches or two feet deep , the herring gull, arc met with in this
the chips being carefully carried of a neighborhood thronghout the year, though
short distance, so as not to betray the in summer most of them go farther north
workman , —and lining the bottom of it to breed . On aa still, sunny day in winter,
with a felting of soft materials, generally you may sec them high in the air over
rabbits' fur, of which I have taken from the river, calmly soaring in wide circles,
one hole as much as could be conven- a hundred perhaps at a time, or pluming
iently grasped with the hand . themselves leisurely on the edge of a hole
Besides the species that we regularly in the ice. When the wind is violent
count upon in winter, there are more or from the west, they come in over the city
less irregular visitors at this season , some from the bay outside, strong -winged and
of them suinmer birds also ,-as the purple undaunted, breasting the gale, now high,
finch, cedar-bird, gold -linch, robin , the now low, but always working to wind
flicker, or pigeon woodpecker, and the ward, until they reach the shelter of the
yellow-bellied and hairy woodpeckers. inland waters.
Others, again, linger on from the autumn, In the spring they come in greater
and sometimes through the winter, -as numbers, and other species arrive : the
the snow -bird, song -sparrow , tree-spar. great saddle -back, from the similarity
row . Still others are scen only in winter, of coloring almost to be mistaken for
-as the brown and shore larks, the cross- the white -headed eagle, as he sits among
bills, redpolls, snow -buntings, pine gros- the broken ice at the edge of the chan
beak, and some of the hawks and owls ; nel ; and the beautiful little Bonaparte's
and of these some are merely accidental, gull.
-as the pine grosbeak, which in 1836 ap- The ducks, too, still resort to our river
peared here in great numbers in October, mouth, in spite of the railroads and the
and remained until May. This beautiful tall chimneys by which their old feed
and gentle bird (a sweet songster too ) is ing-grounds are surrounded. As long as
doubtless a permanent resident within the channel is open , you may see the
the United States, for Ihave seen them at golden -eyes, or “ whistlers,” in extended
the White Mountains in August. What lines, visible only as a row of bright
216 Our Birds, and their Ways. [ December,
specks, as their white breasts rise and Beach more thronged with bipeds of this
fall on the waves ; and farther than sort than by the featherless kind in sum
you can see them, you may hear the mer. The Long Beach of Nabant at
whistle of their wings as they rise. that season is lined sometimes by an al
Spring and fall the “ black ducks “ still most continuous flock of sea-ducks, and a
come to find the brackish waters which constant passing and repassing are kept
they like, and to fill their crops with the up between Lynn Bay and the surf out
seeds of the eel-grass and the mixed side.
food of the flats. In the late twilight Early of a winter's morning at Nantas
you may sometimes catch sight of a flock ket I once saw a flock of geese, many
speeding in, silent and swift, over the hundreds in number, coming in from the
Mill-dam , or hear their sonorous quack- Bay to cross the land in their line of mi
ing from their feeding-ground. gration. They advanced with a vast, ir
At least, these things were ,—and not regular front extending far along the
long since ,—though I cannot answer for a horizon, their multitudinous honking soft
year or two back. The birds long retain ened into music by the distance. As
the tradition of the old places, and strive they neared the beach the clamor in
to keep their hold upon them ; but we are creased and the line broke up in appar
building them out year by year. The ent confusion , circling round and round
memory is still fresh of focks of teal by for some minutes in what seemed aimless
the “Green Stores ” on the Neck ; but uncertainty. Gradually the cloud of
the teal and the “ Stores ” are gone, and birds resolved itself into a number of
perhaps the last black duck has quacked open triangles, each of which with its
on the river, and the last whistler taken deeper-voiced leader took its way in
his final flight. Some of us, who are not land ; as if they trusted to their gen
yet old men, have killed “ brown-backs ” eral sense of direction while flying over
and “ yellow -legs " on the marshes that the water, but on coming to encoun
lie along to the west and south of the city, ter the dangers of the land, preferred to
now cut up by the railroads ; and you delegate the responsibility. This done,
may yet sce from the cars an occasional all is left to the leader ; if he is shot,
long -booted individual, whose hopes still it is said the whole flock seem bewil
live on the tales of the past, stalking dered, and often alight withont regard
through the sedge with “superfluous to place or to their safety. The selec
gun,” or patiently watching his troop of tion of the leader must therefore be a
one-legged wooden decoys. matter of deliberation with them ; and
The sea keeps its own climate, and this, no doubt, was going on in the
keeps its highways open, after all on the flock I saw at Nantasket during their
land is shut up by frost. The sea -birds, pause at the edge of the beach. The
accordingly, seem to lead an existence leader is probably always an old bird .
more independent of latitude and of I have noticed sometimes that his honk
seasons. In midwinter, when the sea- ing is more steady and in a deeper tone,
shore watering -places are forsaken by and that it is answered in a higher key
nien, you may find Nahant or Nantasket along the line.
1857.] The Indian Revolt. 217

THE INDIAN REVOLT.

For the first time in the history of the tion of their pay, and of the means taken
English dominion in India, its power has to check and subdue it. On the third
been shaken from within its own posses- page is a sentence which read nowis of
sions, and by its own subjects. What- terrible import: “Mutiny with [ among ?]
ever attacks have been made upon it the Sepoys is the most formidable danger
heretofore have been from without, and menacing our Indian empire.” And a
its career of conquest has been the result few pages farther on occurs the following
to which they have led. But now no striking passage : “ The ablest and most
external enemy threatens it, and the experienced civil and military servants
English in India have found themselves of the East India Company consider
suddenly and unexpectedly engaged in a mutiny as one of the greatest, if not the
hand - to -hand struggle with a portion of greatest danger threatening India, -a
their subjects, not so much for dominion danger also that may come unexpect
as for life. There had been signs and edly, and, if the first symptoms be not
warnings, indeed, of the coming storm ; carefully treated , with a power to shake
>
but the foeling of security in possession Leadenhall.”
and the confidence of moral strength The anticipated mutiny has now come,
were so strong, that the signs had been its first symptoms were treated with utter
neglected and the warnings disregarded. want of judgment, and its power is shak
No one in our time has played the ing the whole fabric of the English rule
part of Cassandra with more foresight in India .
and vehemence than the late Sir CharlesOne day toward the end of January
Napier. He saw the quarter in which last, a workman employed in the maga
the storm was gathering, and he affirm- zine at Barrackpore, an important station
ed that it was at hand . In 1850, after about seventeen miles from Calcutta ,
a short period of service as commander- stopped to ask a Sepoy for some water
in -chief of the forces in India, he re- from his drinking -vessel. Being refused,
signed his place, owing to a difference because he was of low caste , and his
between himself and the government, touch would defile the vessel, he said ,
and immediately afterwards prepared a with a sneer, “ What caste are you of,
memoir in justification of his course, ac- who bite pig's grease and cow's fat on
companied with remarks upon the gen- your cartridges ? ” Practice with the
eral administration of affairs in that new Enfield rifle had just been intro
country. It was written with all his ac- duced, and the cartridges were greased
customed clearness of mind, vigor of ex- for use in order not to foul the gun.
pression , and intensity of personal feeling The rumor spread among the Sepoys that
-but it was not published until after his there was a trick played upon them ,
death, which took place in 1853 , when that this was but a device to pollute them
it appeared under the editorship of his and destroy their caste, and the first
brother, Lieutenant-General Sir W.F.P. step toward a general and forcible con
Napier, with the title of “ Defects, Civil version of the soldiers to Christianity.
and Military, of the Indian Government.” The groundlessness of the idea upon
Its interest is greatly enhanced when which this alarm was founded afforded
read by the light of recent events. It is no hindrance to its ready reception, nor
in great part occupied with a narrative was the absurdity of the design attribu
of the exhibition of a mutinous spirit ted to the ruling powers apparent to the
which appeared in 1849 in some thirty obscured and timid intellect of the Se
Sepoy battalions, in regard to a reduc- poys. The consequences of loss of caste
218 The Indian Reroll. [ December,
are so feared,-and are in reality of so to have been shared by the majority of
trying a nature, —that upon this point the English residents in India. It was
the sensitiveness of the Sepoy is always not until the 3d of April that the sen
extreme, and his suspicions are casily tence passed upon the 19th regiment was
aroused . Their superstitious and relig- executed . The affair was dallied with ,
ious customs “ interfere in many strange and inefficiency and dilatoriness pre
ways with their military duties. ” “ The vailed everywhere.
brave men of the 35th Native Infantry ," But meanwhile the disaffection was
says Sir Charles Napier, “ lost caste be- spreading. The order for confining the
cause they did their luty at Jelalabad ; use of the new cartridges to the Euro
that is, they fought like soldiers, and peans seems to bave been looked upon
ate what could be had to sustain their by the native regiments as a confirma
strength for battle. ” But they are under tion of their suspicions with regard to
a double rule, of religious and of mili- them . The more daring and evil -dis
tary discipline , -and if the two come into posed of the soleiers stimulated the
conflict, the latter is likely to give way. alarm , and roused the prejudices of
The discontent at Barrackpore soon their more timid and unreasoning con
manifested itself in ways not to be mis- panions. No general plan of revolt
taken. There were incendiary fires withi- seems to have been formed , but the ma
in the lines. It was discovered that mes- terials of discontent were gradually be
sengers bad been sent to regiments at ing concentrated ; the inflammable spirits
other stations, with incitements to insub- of the Sepoys were ready to burst into a
ordination. The officer in command at blaze. Strong and judicious measures,
Barrackpore, General Hearsay, addressed promptly put into action, might even
the troops on parade, explained to them now have allayed the excitement and
that the cartridges were not prepared dissipated the danger. But the imbecile
with the obnoxious materials supposed, commander-in -chief was enjoying bim
and set forth the groundlessness of their self and shirking care in the mountains;
suspicions. The address was well re- and Lord Canning and his advisers at
ceived at first, but had no permanent Calcutta seem to have preferred to allow
effect. The ill-feeling spread to other the troops to take the initiative in their
troops and other stations. The govern- own way. Generally throughout North
ment seems to have taken no measure crn India the common routine of affairs
of precaution in view of the impend- went on at the different stations, and the
ing trouble, and contented itself with ill-feeling and insubordination among the
despatching telegraphic messages to the Sepoy's scarcely disturbed the established
more distant stations, where the new quiet and monotony of Anglo -Indian life.
rifle -practice was being introduced, or- But the storm was risiny, -and the fol
dering that the native troops were to lowing extracts from a letter, hitherto
have no practice ammunition served out unpublished , written on the 30th of May,
to them , but only to watch the firing of by an officer of great distinction , and
the Europeans.” On the 26th of Feb- now in high command before Delhi, will
ruary, the 19th regiment, then stationed show the manner of its breaking.
at Berhampore, refused to receive the “ A fortnight ago no community in the
cartridges that were served out, and world could have been living in greater
were prevented from open violence only security of life and property than ours.
by the presence of a superior English Clouds there were that indicated to
force. After great delay, it was de- thoughtful minds a coming storm , and
termined that this regiment should be in the most dangerous quarter ; but the
disbanded. The authorities were not actual outbreak was a matter of an hour,
even yet alarmed ; they were uneasy, and bas fallen on us like a judgment
but even their uneasiness does not seem from Ileaven ,-sudden , irresistible as
1857.] The Indian Revolt. 219

yet, terrible in its effects, and still eighty -five troopers of the 3d Light Cav
spreading from place to place. I dare alry, who had refused to use the obnox
say you may have observed among the ious cartridges, and had been sentenced
Indian news of late months, that here by a native court-martial to ten years'
and there throughout the country mu- imprisonment. On Saturday, the 9th,
tinies of native regiments had been tak- the men were put in irons, in presence of
ing place. They had, however, been iso their comrades, and marched off to jail.
lated cases, and the government thought On Sunday, the 10th, just at the time
it did enough to check the spirit of dis- of evening service, the mutiny broke
affection by disbanding the corps involv- out. Three regiments left their lines,
ed . The failure of the remedy was, fell upon every European, man, woman,
hotvever, complete, and, instead of bav- or child, they met or could find, mur
ing to deal now with mutinies of sep dered them all, burnt half the houses in
arate regiments, we stand face to face the station , and , after working such a
with a general mutiny of the Sepoy night of mischief and borror as devils
army of Bengal. To those who have might have delighted in, marched off to
thought most deeply of the perils of the Delhi en masse, where three other regi
English empire in India this has always ments ripe for mutiny were stationed .
seemed the monster one. It was thought On the junction of the two brigades, the
to have been guarded against by the borrors of Meerut were repeated in the
strong ties of mercenary interest that imperial city, and every European who
bound the army to the state, and there could be found was massacred with re
was, probably, but one class of feelings volting barbarity. In fact, the spirit was
that would have been strong enough to that of a servile war. Annihilation of
have broken these ties,—those, namely, the ruling race was felt to be the only
of religious sympathy or prejudice. The chance of safety or impunity ; so no one
orert ground of the general mutiny was of the ruling race was spared. Many,
offence to caste feelings, given by the however, effected their escape, and, after
introduction into the army of certain all sorts of perils and sufferings, suc
cartridges said to have been prepared ceeded in reaching military stations con
with hog's lard and cow's fat. The men taining European troops.
must bite off the ends of these car- “ From the crisis of the mutiny our la
tridges; so the Mahometans are defiled cal anxieties have lessened. The coun
by the unclean animal, and the Hindoos try round is in utter confusion. Bands
by the contact of the dead cow. Of of robbers are murdering and plunder
course the cartridges are not prepared as ing defenceless people. Civil govern
stated, and they form the mere handle ment has practically ceased from the
for designing men to work with. They land. The most loathsome irresolution
are, I believe, cqually innocent of lard and incapacity have been exhibited in
and fit ; but that a general dread of some of the highest quarters. A full
being Christianized has by some means month will elapse before the mutineers
or other been created is without doubt, are checked by any organized resist
ance.
though there is still much that is nivs- A forre is, or is supposed to be,
terious in the process by which it has marching on Delhi ; but the outbreak oc
been instilled into the Sepoy mind, and I curred on the 10th of May, and this day
question if the government itself has any is the first of June, and Delhi has seen
accurate information on the subject. no British colors and beard no British
" It was on the 10th of the present guns as yet.
month [ May ] that the outburst of the “ As to the empire, it will be all the
mutinous spirit took place in our own stronger after this storm . It is not five
neighborhood ,—at Meerut. The imme- or six thousand mutinous mercenaries, or
diate cause was the punishinent of ten times the number, that will change
220 The Indian Revoll. [ December,
the destiny of England in India. Though flicted on the unhappy Europeans has
we small fragments of the great machine been for aa long time so peaceful and un
may fall at our posts, there is that vital- disturbed , it has gone on for the most
ity in the English people that will bound part in such pleasant and easy quiet and
stronger against misfortunes, and build with such absolute security, that the
up the damaged fabric anew.” agony of sudden alarm and unwarned
So far the letter from which we have violence has added its bitterness to the
quoted. — It was not until the 8th of overwhelming horror. It is not as in
June that an English force appeared be- border settlements, where the inhabit
fore the walls of Delhi. For four weeks ants choose their lot knowing that they
the mutineers had been left in undis- are exposed to the incursions of savage
turbed possession of the city, a posses- enemies,—but it is as if on a night in
sion which was of incalculable advan- one of the most peaceful of long-settled
tage to them by adding to their moral towns, troops of men, with a sort of civ
strength the prestige of a name which ilization that renders their attack worse
has always been associated with the than that of savages, should be let loose
sceptre of Indian empire. The mas- to work their worst will of lust and
ters of Delhi are the masters not only of cruelty. The details are too recent, too
a city, but of a deeply rooted tradition horrible, and as yet too broken and
of supremacy. The delay had told. irregular, to be recounted here.
Almost every day in the latter half of Although, at the first sally of the mu
May was marked by a new mutiny in tineers from Delhi against the force that
different military stations, widely sepa- had at length arrived, a considerable ad
rated from each other, throughout the vantage was gained by the Europeans,
North -Western Provinces and Bengal. this advantage was followed up by no
The tidings of the possession of Delhi decisive blow. The number of troops
by the mutineers stimulated the daring was too small to attempt an assault
madness of regiments that had been against an army of thirty thousand men,
touched by disaffection . Some mutinied each man of whom was a trained sol
from mere panic, some from bitterness dier. The English force was unprovided
of hate. Some fled away quietly with with any sufficient siege battery. It
their arms, to join the force that had now could do little more than encamp, throw
swelled to an army in the city of the up intrenchments for its own defence,
Great Moghul ; some repeated the atroci- and wait for attacks to be made upon it,
ties of Meerut, and set up a separate -attacks which it usually repulsed with
standard of revolt, to which all the disaf- great loss to the attackers. The month
fected and all the worst characters of the of June is the hottest month of the year
district flocked, to gratify their lust for re- at Delhi; the average height of the
venge of real or fancied wrongs, or their thermometer being 92° . There, in such
baser passions for plunder and unmean- weather, the force must sit still, watch
ing cruelty. The malignity of a subtle, the pouring in of reinforcements and
acute, semi- civilized race, unrestrained supplies to the city which it was too
by law or by moral feeling, broke out in small to invest, and hear from day to
its most frightful forms. Cowardice pos- day fresh tidings of disaster and revolt
sessed of strength never wreaked more on every hand ,—tidings of evil which
horrible sufferings upon its victims, and there could scarcely be any hope of
the blooily and barbarous annals of In- checking, until this central point of the
dian history show no more bloody and mutiny had fallen before the British
barbarous page. arms. A position more dispiriting can
The course of English life in those scarcely be imagined ; and to all these
stations where the worst cruelties and causes for despondency were added the
the bitterest sufferings have been in- incompetency and fatuity of the Indian
1857.] The Indian Revolt. 221

government, and the procrastination of and the vices of power. For years it has
the home government in the forwarding been utterly given over to dirt and to
of the necessary reinforcements. decay. Its beautiful balls and cham
Delhi has been often besieged, but bers, rich with marbles and mosaics, its
seldoin has a siege been laid to it “ Pearl ” musjid, its delicious gardens,
that at first sight would have appeared its shady summer-houses, its fountains,
more desperate than this. The city is and all its walks and pleasure-grounds,
strong in its artificial defences, and Na- are neglected, abused, and occupied by
ture lends her force to the native troops the filthy retainers of an eflete court.
within the walls. If they could hold The city stands partly on the sandy bor
out through the summer, September was der of the river, partly on a low range
likely to be as great a general for thein of rocks. With its suburbs it may coi -
as the famous two upon whom the Czar tain about one hundred and sixty thou
relied in the Crimea. A wall of gray sand inhabitants, a little more than half
stone, strengthened by the modern sci- of whom are Hindoos, and the remain
ence of English engineers, and nearly der nominally Mahometans, in creed.
seven miles in circumference, surrounds Around the wall stretches a wide, bar
the city upon three sides, while the ren , irregular plain, covered , mile after
fourth is defended by a wide offset of mile, with the ruins of earlier Delhis, and
the Jumna, and by a portion of the high, the tombs of the great or the rich men
embattled, red stone wall of the palace, of the Mahometan dynasty. There is
which almost equals the city wall in no other such monumental plain as this
strength, and is itself more than a mile in the world . It is as full of traditions
in length . Few cities in the East pre- and historic memories as of ruins ; and
sent a more striking aspect from without. in this respect, as in many others, Delhi
Over the battlements of the walls rise the bears a striking resemblance to Rome,
slender minarets and shining domes of for the Roman Campagna is the only field
the mosques, the pavilions and the tow- which in its crowd of memories may be
ers of the gates, the balustraded roofs of compared with it, and the imperial city
the higher and finer houses, the light of India holds in the Mahometan mind
foliage of acacias, and the dark crests of much the same place that Rome occupies
tall date-palms. It is a new city, only in that of the Christian .
two hundred and twenty -six years old. Before these pages are printed it is
Shah Jehan, its founder, was fond of not unlikely that the news of the fall of
splendor in building, was lavish of ex- Delhi will have reached us. The troops
pense, and was eager to make his city of the besiegers amounted in the middle
imperial in appearance as in name. The of August to about five thousand five
great mosque that he built here is the hundred men . Other troops near them ,
noblest and most beautifu l in all India. 'and reinfor cements on the way , may by
His palace might be set in comparison the end of the month have increased
with that of Aladdin ; it was the fulfil- their force to ten thousand . At the last
ment of an Oriental voluptuary's dream . accounts a siege train was expected to
All that Eastern taste could devise of arrive on the 3d of September, and an
beauty, that Eastern lavishness could assault might be made very shortly after
fancy of adornment, or voluptuousness wards. But September is an unhealthy
demand of luxury, was brought together month, and there may be delays. Dehli
and displayed here . But its day of door usi,—“ Delhi is far off ," — is a favorite
splendor was not long; and now, instead Indian proverb. But the chances are in
of furnishing a home to a court, which, if favor of its being now in British hands.
a

wicked, was at least magnificent, it is the * It is earnestly to be hoped that the offi
abode of demoralized pensioners, who, cers in command of the British force will not
having lost the reality, retain the pride yield to the sarage suggestions and incite
222 The Indian Revolt. [ December,
With its fall the war will be virtually lished with comparative rapidity, and the
ended , -for the reconquest of the dis- · course of life will before many months
turbed territories will be aa matter of little resume much of its accustomed aspect.
difficulty, when undertaken with the aid The struggle of the trained and ambi
of the twenty thousand English troops tious classes against the English power
who will arrive in India betore the end will but have served to confirin it. The
of the year . revolt overcome, the last great danger
The settlement of the country, after menacing English security in India will
these long disturbances, cannot be ex- have disappeared. England will have
pected to take place at once ; civil gov- learnt much from the trials she has had to
ernment has been too much interrupted pass through, and that essential changes
to resume immediately its orilinary oper- will take place within a few years in the
ation . But as this great revolt has had in constitution of the Indian government
very small degree the character of a pop- there can be no doubt. But it is to be
ular rising, and as the vast mass of na- remembered that for the past thirty years,
tives are in general not discontented with English rule in India has been , with all
the English rule, order will be reëstab- its defects, an enlightened and beneficent
rule. The crimes with which it has been
ments of the English press, with regard to the charged, the crimes of which it has been
fate of Delhi. The tone of feeling which has
been shown in many quarters in Englund guilty, are small in amount, compared
has been utterly disgraceful. Indiscriminato with the good it has effected. Moreover,
cruelty and brutality are no fitting vengeance they are not the result of inherent vices
for the Hindoo and Mussulman barbarities.
The sack of Delhi and the massacre of its
in the system of government, so much as
people would bring the English conquerors of the character of exceptional individuals
down to the level of the conquered."Great employed to carry out that system , and
sins cry out for great punislıments -- but let of the native character itself. — But on
the punishment fall on the guilty , and not in- these points we do not propose now to
volve the innocent. The strength of English enter.
rule in India must be in her justice, her If the close of this revolt be not stained
severity ; —but not in the force and irresistible with retaliating cruelties, if English sol
violence of her passions. To destroy the city
would be to destroy one of the great ornaments diers remember mercy, then the whole
of hier empire, -tomurder the people would be history of this time will be a proud addi
to commence the new period of her rule with tion to the annals of England. For
a revolting crime. though it will display the incompetency
7
• For five days,” says the historian , “ Tarn and the folly of her governments, it
erlue remained a tranquil spectator of the
sack and contaigration of Delhi and the mas
will show how these were remedied by
sacre of its inhabitants, while lie was celebrat- the energy and spirit of individuals ; it
ing a least in houor of his victory. When the will tell of the daring and gallantry of
troops were wearied with sluugliter, and noth- her men , of their patient endurance, of
ing was left to plunder , he give orders for tlie their undaunted courage ,-and it will
prosecution of his march , and on the day of tell , too, with a voice full of tears, of the
his departure le offered up to the Divine Maj sorrows, and of the brave and tender
esty the sincere and humble tribute of grate hearts, and of the unshaken religious
ful praise."
" It is suid that Nadir Shah , during the faith supporting them to the end , of the
mass:cre that he had commanded , sat in women who died in the hands of their
gloomy silence in the little mosque of Rokn enemies. The naines of Havelok and
u -doulah , which stands at the present day in Lawrence will be reckoned in the list
the Great Bazaar. Here the Emperor and his of England's worthies, and the story of
nobles at length took courage to present them
selves. They stood before him with downcast the garrison of Cawnpore will be treas
eyes, until Vadir commanded them to speak, ured up forever among England's sad
when the Einperor burst into tears and en- dest and most touching memories.
treated Nadir to spare his subjects."
1857.) Skipper Ireson's Ride. 223

SKIPPER IRESON'S RIDE.

Of all the rides since the birth of time,

Told in story or sung in rhyme,-
On Apuleius's Golden Ass,
Or one-eyed Calendar's horse of brass,
Witch astride of a human hack ,
Islam's prophet on Al-Borák , –
The strangest ride that ever was sped
Was Ireson's out from Marblehead !
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
By the women of Marblehead !

Body of turkey, head of owl,

Wings a -uroop like a rained -on fowl,
Feathered and ruffled in every part,
Captain Ireson stood in the cart.
Scores of women , old and young,
Strong of muscle, and glib of tongue,
Pusled and pulled up the rocky lane,
Shouting and singing the shrill refrain :
* Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an ' futherr'd an ' corr'd in a corrt
By the women o' Morble'ead ! ”

Girls in bloom of cheek and lips,

Wrinkled scolds with hands on hips,
Wild-eyed, free-limbed, such as chase
Bacchus round some antique vase,
Brief of skirt, with ankles bare,
Loose of kerchief and loose of hair,
With conch -shells blowing and fish -horns' twang,
Over and over the Vænads sang :
“ Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an’ futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt
By the women o' Morble'ead I ”

Small pity for him ! — He sailed away

From a leaking ship in Chaleur Bay ,
Sailed away from a sinking wreck,
With his own town's-people on her deck !
" Lay by ! lay by !” they called to him .
Back he answered , “ Sink or swim !
Brag of your catch of fish again ! ”
And off' he sailed through the fog and rain !
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
By the women of Marblehead !
224 Skipper Ireson's Ride. [ December,
Fathoms deep in dark Chaleur
That wreck shall lie forevermore.
Mother and sister, wife and maid,
Looked from the rocks of Marblehead
Over the moaning and rainy sea,
Looked for the coming that might not be !
What did the winds and the sea -birds say
Of the cruel captain who sailed away ?
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarrechand feathered and carried in a cart
By the women of Marblehead !
Through the street, on either side,
Up flew windows, doors swung wide ;
Sharp -tongued spinsters, old wives gray ,
Treble lent the fish -horn's bray.
Sea -worn grandsires, cripple-bound,
Hulks of old sailors run aground,
Shook head, and fist, and bat, and cane,
And cracked with curses the hoarse refrain :
“ Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an' futherr'd an corr'd in a corrt
By the women o' Morble’ead ! "

Sweetly along the Salem road

Bloom of orchard and lilac showed .
Little the wicked skipper knew
Of the fields so green and the sky so blue.
Riding there in his sorry trim ,
Like an Indian idol glum and grim ,
Scarcely he seemed the sound to hear
Of voices shouting far and near :
“ Here's Flud Oirson , fur his horrd horrt,
Torr'd an ' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt
By the women o' Morble'ead ! ”

“ Hear me, neighbors ! ” at last he cried,

“ What to me is this noisy ride ?
What is the shame that clothes the skin,
To the nameless horror that lives within ?
Waking or sleeping, I see a wreck
And hear a cry from a reeling deck !
Hate me and curse me, - I only dread
The hand of God and the face of the dead ! ”
Said old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
By the women of Marblehead !

Then the wife of the skipper lost at sea

Said , “ God has touched hiin ! — why should we ? "
Said an old wife mourning her only son ,
“ Cut the rogue's tether and let him run ! "
1857.) Solitude and Society. 225

So with soft relentings and rude excuse,

Half scorn , half pity, they cut himn loose,
7

And gave him cloak to hide him in ,

And left him alone with his shame and sin.
Poor Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
By the women of Marblehead !

SOLITUDE AND SOCIETY.

I FELL in with a humorist, on my trav- the sun and moon put him out. When
els, who had in his chamber a cast of the he bought a bouse, the first thing he did
Rondanini Medusa, and who assured me was to plant trees. He could not enough
that the name which that fine work of conceal himself. Set a hedge here ; set
art bore in the catalogues was a misno oaks there,—trecs behind trees ; above
mer, as he was convinced that the sculp all, set evergreens, for they will keep a
tor who carved it intended it for Memory, secret all the year round. The most
the mother of the Muses. In the con- agreeable compliment you could pay him
versation that followed , my new friend was, to say that you had not observed
made some extraordinary confessions. him in a house or a street where you had
“ Do you not see,” he said, " the penalty met him . Whilst he suffered at being
of learning, and that cach of these schol- seen where he was, he consoled himself
ars whom you have met at S., though he with the delicious thought of the incon
were to be the last man , would , like the ceivable number of places where he was
executioner in Hood's poem , guillotine not. All he wished of his tailor was, to
the last but one ? ” He added many provide that sober mean of color and cut
lively remarks, but his evident earnest- which would never detain the eye for a
ness engaged my attention, and, in the moment. He went to Vienna, to Smyr
weeks that followed, we became better na, to London. In all the variety of
acquainted. He had great abilities, a costumes, a carnival, a kaleidoscope of
genial temper, and no vices; but he had clothes, to his horror he could never dis
one defect,-he could not speak in the cover a man in the street who wore any
tone of the people. There was some thing like bis own dress. He would have
paralysis on his will, that, when he met given his soul for the ring of Giyges. His
men on common terms, he spoke weakly, dismay at his visibility had biunted the
and from the point, like a flighty girl. fears of mortality. “ Do you think ,” he
His consciousness of the fault made it said, “ I am in such great terror of being
worse. He envied every daysman and shot,-1, who am only waiting to shuffle
drover in the tavern their manly speech. off my corporeal jacket, to slip away into
He coveted Mirabeau's don terrible de la the back stars, and put diameters of the
familiarité, believing that he whose sym- solar system and sidereal orbits between
pathy goes lowest is the man from whom me and all souls,—there to wear out ages
kings have the most to fear. For himself, in solitude, and forget memory itself, if it
he declared that he could not get enough be possible ? ” He had a remorse ruu
alone to write a letter to a friend. He ning to despair of his social gaucheru's,
left the city ; he hid himself in pastures. and walked miles and miles to get the
The solitary river was not solitary enough; twitchings out of his face, the starts and
VOL . I. 15
226 Solitude and Society. [ December,
shrugs out of his arms and shoulders. bas fine traits. At a distance, he is ad
“ God may forgive sins,” he said, “ but mired ; but bring him hand to hand, he
awkwarıness has no forgiveness in hea- is a cripple. One protects himself by
ven or earth .” He admired in Newton, solitude, and one by courtesy , and one by
not so much his theory of the moon , as his an acid, worldly manner,-each conceal
letter to Collins, in which he forbade him ing how he can the thinness of his skin
to insert his name with the solution of and his incapacity for strict association.
the problem in the “ Philosophical Trans- But there is no remedy that can reach
actions ” : “ It would perhaps increase the heart of the disease, but either habits
my acquaintance, the thing which I chief- of self -reliance that should go in practice
ly study to decline.” to making the man independent of the
These conversations led me somewhat human race, or else a religion of love.
later to the knowledge of similar cases, Now he hardly seems entitled to marry ;
existing elsewhere, and to the discovery for how can he protect a woman, who
that they are not of very infrequent oc- cannot protect himself ?
currence .Few substances are found We pray to be conventional. But the
pure in nature. Those constitutions wary Heaven takes care you shall not be,
which can bear in open day the rough if there is anything good in you. Dante
dealing of the world must be of that was very bad company, and was never
mean and average structure ,—such as invited to dinner. Michel Angelo had a
iron and salt, atmospheric air, and water. sad, sour time of it. The ministers of
But there are metals, like potassium and beauty are rarely beautiful in coaches
sodium , which, to be kept pure , must be and saloons. Columbus discovered no
kept under naphtha. Such are the tal- isle or key so lonely as himself. Yet
ents determined on some specialty, which each of these potentates saw well the
a culminating civilization fosters in the reason of his exclusion. Solitary was he ?
heart of great cities and in royal cham- Why, yes ; but his society was limited
bers. Nature protects her own work. only by the amount of brain Nature ap
To the culture of the world , an Archi- propriated in that age to carry on the
medes, a Newton is indispensable ; so she government of the world . “ If I stay,"
guards them by a certain aridity. If said Dante, when there was question of
these had been good fellows, fond of going to Rome, “ who will go ? and if I
9

dancing, Port, and clubs , we should have go, who will stay ? ”
had no “ Theory of the Sphere ," and no But the necessity of solitude is deeper
“ Principia .” They had that necessity of than we have said, and is organic. I
isolation which genius fuels . Each must have seen many a philosopher whose
stand on his glass tripod , if he would keep world is large enough for only one per
his electricity . Even Swedenborg, whose son . He affects to be a good companion ;
theory of the universe is based on affec- but we are still surprising his secret, that
tion, and who reprobates to weariness the he means and needs to impose his system
danger and vice of pure intellect , is con- on all the rest. The determination of
strained to make an extraordinary excep- each is from all the others, like that of
tion : “ There are also angels who do each tree up into free space . 'Tis no
not live consociated , but separate , house wonder, when each has his whole head ,
and house ; these dwell in the midst of our societies should be so small . Like
heaven, because they are the best of President Tyler, our party falls from us
angels .” every day, and we must ride in a sulky
We have known many fine geniuses at last. Dear heart! take it sadly home
have that imperfection that they cannot to thee, there is no coöperation. We
do anything useful, not so much as write begin with friendships, and all our youth
one clean sentence. ' Tis worse, and is a reconnoitring and recruiting of the
tragic, that no man is fit for society who holy fraternity that shall combine for the
1857. ] Solitude and Society. 227
salvation of men. But so the remoter nature, such a half -view , that it must
stars seem a nebula of united light, yet be corrected by a common sense and
there is no group which a telescope will experience. “ A man is born by the
not resolve , and the dearest friends are side of his father, and there he remains.”
separated by impassable gulfs. The co- A man must be clothed with society,
operation is involuntary , and is put upon or we shall feel a certain bareness and
us by the Genius of Life, who reserves poverty , as of a displaced and unfur
this as a part of his prerogative . ' Tis nished member. He is to be dressed
fine for us to talk : we sit and muse , and in arts and institutions, as well as body
are serene, and complete ; but the mo garments. Now and then a man ex
ment we meet with anybody, cach be- quisitely made can live alone, and must
comes a fraction. but coop up most men, and you undo
Though the stuff of tragedy and of them. “ The king lived and ate in his
romances is in a moral union of two su- hall with men , and understood men ,”
perior persons, whose confidence in cach said Selden. When a young barrister
other for long years, out of sight, and said to the late Mr. Mason, “ I keep my
in sight, and against all appearances, is chamber to read law ,” — “ Read law ! ”
at last justified by victorious proof of replied the veteran, “ 'tis in the court
probity to gods and men, causing joyful room you must read law.” Nor is the
einotions, tears, and glory ,—though there rule otherwise for literature . If you
be for heroes this moral union, yet would learn to write, ' tis in the street
they, too, are as far off as ever from an you must learn it. Both for the vehicle
intellectual union , and the moral union and for the aims of fine arts, you must
is for comparatively low and external frequent the public square. The people,
purposes, like the coöperation of a ship's and not the college, is the writer's home.
company, or of a fire-club. But how A scholar is a candle, which the love
insular and pathetically solitary are all and desire of all men will light. Never
the people we know ! Nor dare they his lands or his rents, but the power to
tell what they think of each other, when charm the disguised soul that sits veiled
they meet in the street. We have a under this bearded and that rosy visage
fine right, to be sure, to taunt men of is his rent and ration. His products are
the world with superficial and treacher- as needful as those of the baker or the
ous courtesies ! weaver. Society cannot do without cul
tivated men . As soon as the first wants
Such is the tragic necessity which
strict science finds underneath our do- are satisfied, the higher wants become
mestic and neighborly life, irresistibly imperative.
driving each adult soul as with whips 'Tis hard to mesmerize ourselves, to
into the desert, and making our warm whip our own top ; but through sym
covenants sentimental and momentary pathy we are capable of energy and
We must infer that the ends of thought endurance. Concert exasperates people
were peremptory, if they were to be to a certain fury of performance they
secured at such ruinous cost. They are can rarely reach alone. Here is the usc
deeper than can be told, and belong to of society : it is so easy with the great to
the immensities and eternities. They be great! so easy to come up to an
reach down to that depth where society existing standard ! - as easy as it is to
itself originates and disappears,—where the lover to swim to his maiden , through
the question is, Which is first, man or waves so grim before. The benefits of
men ?-where the individual is lost in his affection are immense ; and the one
source . event which never loses its romance is
But this banishment to the rocks and the alighting of superior persons at our
cchoes no metaphysics can make right gate.
or tolerable. This result is so against It by no means follows that we are not
 228 Solitude and Society. [ December,
fit for society, because soirées are tedious, as we rise, through sympathy. So many
and because the soirée finds us tedious. men whom I know are degraded by their
A backwoodsman , who had been sent to sympathies, their native aims being high
the university, told me, that when he enough, but their relation all too tender
heard the best -bred young men at the to the gross people about them . Men
law -school talk together, he reckoned cannot afford to live together on their
himself a boor ; but whenever be caught merits, and they adjust themselves by
them apart, and had one to himself their demerits, - by their love of gossip,
alone, then they were the boors, and he or sheer tolerance and animal good-na
the better man. And if we recall the ture. They untune and dissipate the
rare hours when we encountered the brave aspirant.
best persons, we then found ourselves, The remedy is, to reinforce each of
and then first society seemed to exist. these moods from the other. Conversa
That was society, though in the tran- tion will not corrupt us, if we come to
som of a brig, or on the Florida Keys. the assembly in our own garb and
A cold , sluggish blood thinks it has not speech, and with the energy of bealth
facts enough to the purpose, and must to select what is ours and reject what is
decline its turn in the conversation. But not. Society we must have ; but let it
they who speak have no more ,—have less. be society, and not exchanging news, or
' Tis not new facts that avail, but the eating from the same dish. Is it society
heat to dissolve everybody's facts. Heat to sit in one of your chairs ? I cannot
puts you in right relation with magazines go to the houses of my nearest relatives,
of facts. The capital defect of cold, arid because I do not wish to be alone. Soci
natures is the want of animal spirits. ety exists by chemical affinity, and not
They seem a power incredible, as if God otherwise.
should raise the dead . The recluse wit- Put any company of people together
nesses what others perform by their aid with freedom for conversation, and a
with a kind of fear. It is as much out rapid self-distribution takes place into
of his possibility, as the prowess of Cæur- sets and pairs. The best are accused of
de-Lion, or an Irishman's day's work exclusiveness. It would be more true to
on the railroad. ' Tis said , the present say, they separate as oil from water, as
and the future are always rivals. Ani- children from old people, without love
mal spirits constitute the power of the or hatred in the matter, each seeking
present, and their feats are like the his like; and any interference with the
structure of a pyramid. Their result is affinities would produce constraint and
a lord, a general, or a boon-companion. suffocation. All conversation is a mag
Before these , what a base mendicant is netic experiment. I know that my
Memory with his leathern badge! But friend can talk eloquently ; you know
this genial heat is latent in all constitu- that he cannot articulate a sentence :
tions, and is disengaged only by the fric- we have seen him in different company.
tion of society. As Bacon said of man- Assort your party, or invite nonc . Put
ners, “ To obtain them, it only needs notStubbs and Byron, Quintilian and Aunt
9
to despise them,” so we say of animal Miriam , into pairs, and you make them
spirits, that they are the spontaneous all wretched. ' Tis an extempore Sing
product of health and of a social habit. Sing built in a parlor. Leave them to
“ For behavior, men learn it, as they seek their own mates, and they will be
take diseases, one of another." as merry as sparrows.
But the people are to be taken in A higher civility will reëstablish in our
very small doses. If solitude is proud, customs a certain reverence which we
80 is society vulgar. In society, high have lost. What to do with these brisk
advantages are set down to the individ- young men who break through all fences,
nal as disadvantages. We sink as easily and make themselves at home in every
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 229
house ? I find out in an instant if my hands. We require such a solitude as
companion does not want me, and ropes shall hold us to its revelations when we
cannot hold me when my welcome is are in the street and in palaces ; for
gone. most men are cowed in society, and
One would think that the affini-
ties would pronounce themselves with a say good things to you in private, but
surer reciprocity. will not stand to them in public. But
Here again , as so often, Nature delights let us not be the victims of words. So
to put us between extreme antagonisms, ciety and solitude are deceptive names.
and our safety is in the skill with which It is not the circumstance of sceing more
we keep the diagonal line. Solitude is or fewer people, but the readiness of
impracticable, and society fatal. We sympatlıy, that imports ; and a sound
must keep our head in the one, and our mind will derive its principles from in
hands in the other. The conditions are sight, with ever a purer ascent to the
met, if we keep our independence, yet sufficient and absolute right, and will
do not lose our sympathy. These won- accept society as the natural element
derful horses need to be driven by fine in which they are to be applied.

AKIN BY MARRIAGE.

[ Continued. ]
CHAPTER III.
row was deep and lasting, and the badge
When little Helen was not far from of mourning which her husband wore for
ninc years old, her mother, (as she had many months after her death was a truth
learned to call Mrs. Bugbee, whose ful symbol of unaffected grief. From
health for a long time had been failing, the beginning, he was warmly attached
fell sick and took to her bed . Some- to his wife, whose affection for him was
times, for a brief space, she would seem very great indeed. It would have been
to mend a little ; and a council of doctors, strange if he had been unhappy, when
convened to consider her case,-though she, who made his tastes her study, also
each member differed from all the others made it the business of her life to please
touching the nature of her malady, — him. Besides, his cheerful temper en
unanimously declared she would ulti- abled him to make light of more grievous
mately recover. But her disease, what- misfortunes than the getting of a loving
ever it was, proved to be her mortal wife and thrifty helpmeet ten years older
illness; for the very next night she came than himself.
suddenly to her end. Her loss was a When a widower, like the Doctor, is
heavy one, especially to her own house- but fifty, with the look of a much younger
hold . She had always been a quiet man , people are apt to talk about the
person , of rather pensive humor, whose chances of his marrying again. Before
native dillidence caused her to shrink Mrs. Bugbee had been dead a twelve
from observation ; and after Amelia's month, rumors were as plenty as black
leath she was rarely seen abroad, ex- berries that the Doctor had been seen ,
cept at meeting, on Sundays, or when late on Sunday evenings, leaving this
she went to visit the poor, the sick, or house, or that house, the dwelling -place
the griet-stricken. It was at home that of some marriageable lady; and if he
her worth was most apparent; for plain bad finally espoused all whom the gos
domestic virtues, such as hers, seldom sips reported he was going to marry , he
gain wide distinction. Her children's sor- would have bad as many wives as any
230 Akin by Marriage. [ December,
Turkish pasha or Mormon elder. It was day, poor nian, and his bedridden widow
doubtless true that he called at certain survived the shock of witnessing his
places more frequently than had been dreadful agonies and death but a very
his custom in Mrs. Bugbee's lifetime. little while. Her daughters, two young
This, he assured Cornelia, to whom the girls, were left destitute and friendless.
reports I have mentioned occasioned But Major Bugbee, to whom the cobbler's
some uneasiness, was because he was wife had been remotely akin, and who
more often summoned to attend, in a pro was at that time first selectman of the
fessional way , at these places, than he had town, took the orphans with him to his
ever been of old ; which was true enough, house, where they tarried till be found
I dare say, for more spinsters and widows good places for them. Roxana, the
were taken ailing about this time than elder girl, went to live with a reputa
had ever been ill at once before . Be ble farmer's wife, whose only son she
that as it may, certain arrangements afterwards married. Statira remained
which the Doctor presently made in his under the shelter of the good Major's
domestic affairs did not seem to fore- hospitable roof much longer than her
token an immediate change of condi- sister did, and would have been welcome
tion. to stay, but she was not one of those
Miss Statira Blake, whom the Doctor who like to eat the bread of dependence.
engaged as housekeeper, was the youngest With the approval of the selectmen, she
daughter of an honest shoemaker, who bound herself an indentured apprentice
formerly flourished at Belfield Green, to Billy Tuthill, the little lame tailor,
where he was noted for industry, a fond- for whom she worked faithfully four
ness for reading, a tenacious memory , a years , until she had served out her time
ready wit, and a fluent tongue. In poli- and was mistress of her trade, even
tics he was a radical, and in religion a to the recondite mystery of cutting a
schismatic. The little knot of Presbyte- double -breasted swallow-tail coat by rule
rian Federalist magnates, who used to as and measure . Then, at eighteen , she
semble at the tavern to discuss affairs of set up business for herself, going from
church and state over muys of flip and house to house as her customers re
tumblers of sling, regarded him with quired , working by the day. Her ser
feelings of terror and aversion . The vices were speedily in great demand,
doughty little cobbler made nothing of and she was never out of employment.
attacking them single-handed, and put- Many a worthy citizen of Belfield well
ting them utterly to rout; for he was a remembers his first jacket-and -trowsers,
dabster at debate , and entertained as the handiwork of Tira Blake. The
strong a liking for polemics as for books. Sunday breeches of half the farmers
Nay, he was a thorn in the side of the who came to meeting used to be the
parson himself, for whom he used to lie product of her skilful labor. Thus for
in wait with knotty questions, -snares set many years ( refusing meanwhile several
to entrar the worthy divine , in the hope of good offers of marriage ) she continued
beguiling him into a controversy respect- to ply her needle and shears, working
ing some abstruse point of doctrine, in steadily and cheerfully in her vocation ,
which the cobbler, who had every verse earning good wages and spending but
of the Bible at his tongue's end, was not little, until the thrifty sempstress was
apt to come off second best. counted well to do, and held in esteem
But one day, Tommy Blake, being at accordingly. Sometimes, when she got
a raising where plenty of liquor was weary, and thought a change of labor
furnished, (as the fashion used to be,) would do her good, she would engage
slipped and fell from a high beam , and with some lucky dame to help do house
was carried home groaning with aa skin- work for a month or two. She was
ful of broken bones. He died the next a famous band at pickling, preserv
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 231

ing, and making all manner of tooth- called her Aunt Statira, but, if the truth
some knick -knacks and dainties. Nor were known, she loved little Frank Bug
was she deficient in the pleasure walks ' bee, James's only son , better than she
of the culinary art. Betsey Pratt, the did the whole brood of her sister Roxy's
tavernkeeper's wife, a special crony of flaxen -pated offspring. Nay, she loved
Statira's, used always to send for her him better than all the world besides.
whenever she was in straits, or when , on Statira used to call James her right-hand
some grand occasion , a dinner or supper man , asking for his advice in every mat
was to be prepared and served up in ter of importance, and usually acting in
more than ordinary style. So learned accordance with it. So, when Doctor
was she in all the devices of the pantry Bugbee invited her to take charge of
and kitchen , that many a young woman his household affairs, Cornelia joining in
in the parish would have given half the request with earnest importunity, she
her setting -out, and her whole store of did not at once return a favorable re
printed cookery-books, to know by heart ply, though strongly inclined thereto, but
Tira Blake's unwritten lore of rules and waited until she had consulted James and
recipes. So, wherever she went, she his wife, who advised her to accept the
was welcome, albeit not a few stood proffered trust, giving many sound and
in fear of her ; for though, when well excellent reasons why she ought to do so .
treated , she was as good -humored as a Accordingly, a few months after Mrs.
kitten, when provoked , especially by a Bugbee's death , Statira began to sway
slight or affront, her wrath was danger- the sceptre where she had once found
ous. Her tongue was sharper than her refuge from the poor-house ; for though
needle, and her pickles were not more Cornelia remained the titular mistress
piquant than her sarcastic wit. Tira, of the mansion , Statira was the actual
the older people used to remark, was ruler, invested with all the real power .
Tommy Blake's own daughter; and Cornelia gladly resigned into her more
truly, she did inherit many of her fa- experienced bands the reins of goveru
ther's qualities, both good and bad, and ment, and betook herself to occupations
not a few of his crotchets and opinions. more congenial to her tastes than house
In fine, she was a shrewd, sensible, Yan- keeping. Whenever, afterwards, she
kee old maid , who, as she herself was made a languid offer to perform some
wont to say, wa well able to take care light domestic duty, Statira was accus
of number one'as c'er a man in town . tomed to reply in such wise that the most
Statira never forgot Major Bugbee's perfect concord was maintained between
kindness to her in her lonely orphan them . “No, my dear,” the latter would
hood. She preserved for him and for say , “ do you just leave these things to
every member of his family a grateful me . If there a’n't help enough in the
affection ; but her special favorite was house to do the work, your pa'll get ' em ;
James, the Doctor's brother, who was a and as for overseein ', one's better than
little younger than she, and who repaid two.” But sometimes, when little Helen
this partiality with hearty good -will and proffered her assistance, Tira let the child
esteem. When he grew up and mar- try her hand, taking great pains to in
ried , his house became one of Statira's struct her in housewifery, warmly prais
>

homes ; the other being at her sister's ing her successful essays, and finding
house, which was too remote from Bel- excuses for every failure. It was not
field Green to be at all times convenient. long before a cordial friendship subsisted
So she had rooms, which she called alike between the teacher and her pupil.
her own, at both these places, in each of The Doctor, of course , experienced
which she kept a part of her wardrobe great contentment at beholding his chil
and a portion of her other goods and dren made happy, his house well kept
chattels. The children of both families and ordered , his table spread with plen
232 Akin by Marriage. ( December,
tiful supplies of savory victuals, and all his sometimes, in order to express the most
domestic concerns managed with sagacity unqualified negation , was accustomed to
and prudence, by one upon whose good- employ this apparently ambiguous form
will and ability to promote his welfare of speech. “ I said for my part, Miss
he could rely with implicit confidence. Prouty ,-for my part. As for the Doc
Even the scrvants shared in the gen- tor, he'll prob’bly have his own notions,
eral satisfaction ; for though, under Tira's and foller 'em . "
vigorous rule, no task or duty could be Besides these already mentioned , there
safely shunned or slighted, she proved a was another person, who sat so often at
kind and even an indulgent mistress to the Doctor's board and spent so many
those who showed themselves worthy of hours beneath his roof, that, for the
her favor. Old Violet, the mother of Di- nonce, I shall reckon her among his
nah, the little black girl elsewhere men- family. Indeed, Laura Stebbins was
tioned, yielded at once to Tira Blake the alınost as much at home in the Bugbee
same respectful obedience that she and mansion as at the parsonage, and she
her ancestors, for more than a century used to regard the Doctor and his wife
in due succession, had been wont to ren- with an affection quite filial in kind and
der only to dames of the ancient Bugbee very ardent in degree. For this she had
line. Dinah herself, now a well-grown abundant reason , the good couple always
damsel, black, but comely, who, during treating her with the utmost kindness,
Cornelia's maladministration , had been frequently making her presents of clothes
suffered to follow too much the devices and things which she needed, besides
and desires of her own heart, setting at gifts of less use and value. These to
naught alike the entreaties and reproofs kens of her friends' good-will she used to
of her mistress and her mother's angry receive with many sprightly demonstra
scoldings, —even Dinah submitted with- tions of thankfulness ; sometimes, in her
out a murmur to Tira’s wholesome author- transports of gratitude, distributing be
ity, and abandoned all her evil courses. tween the Doctor and his wife a number
Bildad Royce, a crotchety hired -man , of delicious kisses, and telling the latter
whom the Doctor kept to do the chores that her husband was the best and most
and till the garden, albeit at first in- generous of men. After Mrs. Bugbee's
clined to be captious, accorded to the death , the Doctor's manner, as was to be
new housekeeper the meed of his appro- expected, became more grave and sober,
bation . and he very wisely thought proper to
“ I like her well enough to hope she'll treat Laura with a kindness less familiar
stay, mum , " quoth he, in reply to an in- than before , which perceiving with the
quisitive neighbor. “ And for my part, quickness of her sex, she also practised a
Miss Prouty,” he added, nodding and like reserve. But notwithstanding this
winking at his questioner, “ I'd like to prudent change in his demeanor, his
see it fixed so she'd alwus stay ; and good -will for Laura was in no wise
if the Doctor doos think he can't do no abated. At all events, the friendship
better'n to have her bimeby, when the between Cornelia and Laura suffered
time comes, who's a right to say a word no decay or diminution . Indeed, it in
agin it ? ” creased in fervency and strength. For
“ Goodness me ! ” exclaimed the un- Laura, having finished her course of
6
wary Mrs. Prouty, — “ do you mean to study at the Belfield Academy, had now
say you think he's got any idea of such more time to devote to Cornelia than
a thing, Bildad ? ” when she had had lessons to get and re
* Yes, I don't mean to say I think he's citations to attend. The parsonage stood
got any idee of sich a thing, Bildarl," next to the Bugbee mansion, and in the
replied Bildad himself, who took great paling between the two gardens there
delight in mystifying people, and who was a wicket, through which Cornelia,
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 233

Laura , and Helen used to run to and fro “ I ha'n't got a spite against her, Cor
a dozen times a day. The females of nele,—though, I confess, I don't love the
the Doctor's family made nothing of scud- woman ,” replied Statira. “ But I always
ding, bareheaded , across to the parson- treat her well ; though, to be sure, I don't
age by this convenient back -way, and curchy so low and keep smilin ' so much
bolting into the kitchen without so much as most folks do, when they meet a
as knocking at the door; and Laura's minister's wife and have talk with her.
babits at the Bugbee mansion were still Even when she comes here a -borrowin '
more familiar. Mrs. Jaynes, though not things she knows will be giv' to her
the most affable of womankind, gave this when she asks for 'em , which makes it
close intimacy much favor and encour- so near to beggin' that she ought to be
agement; for she bore in mind that Cor- ashamed on't, which I only give to her
Delia's father was the richest and most because it's your father's wish for me to
influential member of her husband's do so , and the things are his'n ; but I
church and parish. always treat her well, Cornele . ”
At first, Laura was a little shy of the “ But why don't you like her, Tira ?"
plain -spoken old maid , for whose person , asked Hclen.
66
manners, and opinions she had often My dear, I'll tell you ,” said Statira ;
heard Mrs. Jaynes express, in private, a “for I don't want you to think I'm set
most bitter dislike. But Statira had against any person unreasonable and
without cause. You see Miss Jaynes is
been regnant in the Bugbee mansion
less than a week, when Laura began to a nateral-born beggar. I don't say it
make timid advances towards a mutu- with any ill-will, but it's a fact. She
al good understanding, of which for a takes to beggin' as naterally as a goslin '
while Statira affected to take no heed ; takes to a puddle ; and when she first
for having formed a resolution to main- come to town she commenced a -beggin ',
tain a strict reserve towards every in- and has kep' it up ever since. She used
mate of the parsonage, she was not dis- to tackle me the same as she does every
posed to break it so soon , even in favor boly else, askin ' me to give somethin ' to
of Laura , whose winsome overtures she this, and to that, and to t'other pet hum
found it difficult to resist. bug of her'n, but I never would do it ;
66
• If it wa’n’t for her bein ' Miss Jaynes's and when she found she could'nt worry
sister,” said she, one day, to Cornelia , me into it, like the rest of 'em, it set her
who had been praising her friend,— “ if very bitter against me ; and I heard of
it wa’n't for that one thing, I should her tellin' I'd treated her with rudeness,
like her remarkable well,-a good deal which I'd always treated her civilly, only
more'n cominon . " when I said • No,' she found coaxin ' and
“ Pray, what have you got such a
66
palaverin' wouldn't stir me. So it went
spite against the Jayneses for ? ” asked on for a year or two, till, one fall, I was
Cornelia stayin' here to your ma's,-Cornele, I
“ What do you mean by askin' such guess you remember the time, -helpin'
a question as that, Cornele ? ” said Tira, of her make up her quinces and apples.
in a tone of stern reproof. “ Who's got We was jest in the midst of bilin' cider,
a spite against 'em ? Not I, by a good with one biler on the stove and the big
deal ! As for the parson himself, he's gest brass kittle full in the fireplace,
a well-meanin ' man , and does as near when in comes boltin ' Miss Jaynes,
right as he knows how. If you could dressed up as fine as a fiddle. She set
say as much as that for everybody, there right down in the kitchen, and your ma
wouldn't be any need of parsons any rolled her sleeves down and took off her
more .” apurn , lookin ' kind o'het and worried .
“ But you don't like Mrs. Jaynes,” After a few words, Miss Jaynes took a
persisted Cornelia. paper out of her pocket, and says she to
 234 Akin by Marriage. [ December,
your ma, “ Miss Bugbee,' says she, . I'm and give it to Miss Jaynes, which I'd ' a'
a just startin ' forth on the Lord's busi- had to work a week, stitchin ' from morn
ness, and I come to you as the helpmate in' to night, to have earnt that five -dol
and pardner of one of his richest stew- lar bill; though, of course, your ma had
6
ards in this vineyard.' — • What is it a right to burn it up, if she'd 'a' been a
now ? ' says your ma, lookin' out of one mind to ; only it made me ache to see it
eye at the brass kittle, and speakin' go so , when there was thousands of poor
more iinpatient than I ever heard her starvin' ragged orphans needin' it so
speak to a minister's wife before. Well, bad. All to once Miss Jaynes wheeled
I can't spend time to tell all that Miss and spoke to me : Well, Miss Tira,' says
Jaynes said in answer, but it seemed she, “ can I have a dollar from you ? '
6
some of the big folks in New York had “ No, ma'am ,' says I. — * I supposed not,'
started a new society, and its object was says sbe ; which would have been sassy
to provide, as near as ever I could find in anybody but the parson's wife. But I
out, such kind of necessary notions for held my tongue, and out she went, takin '
indigent young men studyin' to be minis- no more notice of me than she did of
ters as they couldn't well afford to buy Vi'let, nor half so much,—for I see her
for themselves, — such as stecl-bowed kind o' look towards the old woman , as
specs for the near- sighted ones, and if she was half a mind to ask ber for a
white cravats, black silk gloves, and fourpence-ha’penny. Well, that was the
linen -cambric handkerchiefs for ' em all, last on't for a spell, until after New
-in order, as Miss Jaynes sail, these Year's. I was stayin' then at your Uncle
young fellers might keep up a respect- James's, and one afternoon your ma sent
able appearance, and not give a chance for your Aunt Eunice and me to come
for the world's people to get a contempt over and take tea. So we went over,
ible idee of the ministry, on account of and there was several of the neighbors
the shabby looks of the young men that invited in ,-Squire Bramhall's wife, and
had laid out to foller that holy callin'. them your ma used to go with most, and
She said it was a cause that ought to amongst the rest, of course , Miss Jaynes.
lay near the heart of every evangelical There had just before that been a dona
Christian man, and especially the women . tion party, New Year's night, to the par
6
We mothers in Israel,' says Miss Jaynes, son's, and the Dorcas Society bad bought
ought to feel for these young Davids Miss Jaynes a nice new Brussels carpet
that have gone forth to give battle to for her parlor, all cut and fitted and
the Goliaths of sin that are a - stalkin ' made up. In the course of the after
and struttin' round all over the land.' noon Miss Bramhall spoke and asked if
She said the society was goin ' to be a the new carpet was put down, and if it
great institution , with an office to New fitted well. 6
Oh, beautiful !' says she,
York, with an executive committee and it fits the room like a glove; somebody
three secretaries in attendance there, must have had pretty gooul eyes to took
and was a-goin' to employ a great num- the measure so correct, and I not know
ber of clergymen, out of a parish , to anything what was a-consin’ ; and I hope,'
travel as agents collectin' funds ; . but,' says she, “ larlies, you'll take an early op
says she, “ I've a better tack for collectin ' portunity to drop in and see it ; for there
than most people, and I've concluded ain't one of you but what I'm under obli
to canvass this town myself for dona- gation to for this touchin ' token of your
tions to this noble and worthy cause ; love,' ( that's what she called it,)—' ex
and I've come to you , Miss Bugbee,' says cept,' says she, of a sudden, .except Miss
she, “ to lead off with your accustomed Blake, whom , really, I hadn't noticed
liberality .'— Well, what does your ma before !' - 1 tell yo, Cornele, my eben
do, but go into her room , to her draw, I 2
czer was up at this ; for you can't tell
suppose, and fetch out a five-dollar bill, how mean and spiteful she spoke and
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 235

looked, pretendin' as if I was so insignifi- give my hard -earned wages away to ob

cant a critter she hadn't taken notice of jects I didn't know much about, when,
my bein' there before, which, to be with my limited means, I could find
sure , she hadn't even bid me good places to bestow what little I could spare
afternoon ; and for my part, I hadn't without huntin ' 'em up. I don't mean to
6
put myself forward among such women boast ,' says I, of my benevolence, and I
as was there, though I didn't feel beneath don't have gilt-framed diplomas hung up
'em , nor they didn't think so, except in my room to certify to it, to be seen
Miss Jaynes. — Then she went on . Miss and read of all men, as the manner of
Blake,' says she, “ I believe didn't mean some is,—but,' says I, “ I will say that
no slight for not helpin' towards the car- I've given this year twenty -five dollars
pet; for she never gives to anything, as to the Orphan Asylum, to Hartford, and
I know of,' says she. “ I've often asked I've a five -dollar gold -piece in my puss,'
her for various objects, and have been as says I, that I can spare , and will give
often refused. The last time,' says she, that more to the same charity, for the
* I did expect to get somethin' ; for I privilege of tellin' before these ladies,
asked only for a dollar to that noble so- that beard me accused of being stingy,
ciety for providin ' young men, a -strug. why I don't give to you when you ask
glin' to prepare themselves for usefulness me to, and especially why I didn't give
in the ministry, with some of the com- the last time you asked me. I would like
mon necessaries of life, but she refused to tell why I didn't help sew in the Dor
me . I expect,' says she, a - sneerin'in cas Society, to buy the new carpet,' says
such a way that I couldn't stand it any I, “ but I don't want to hurt anybody's
longer, ' I expect Miss Blake is a -savin' feelin's that ha'n't hurt mine, and I'll for
all her money to buy her settin'out and bear .'— By this time Miss Jaynes was
6
furniture with ; for I suppose,' says she, pale as a sheet. " I'm sure,' says she, “ I
lookin' more spiteful than ever, ' I sup- don't care why you don't choose to give,
pose Miss Blake thinks that as long as and I don't suppose any one else does.
6
there's life there's hope for a husband .' It's your own affair,' says she, and you
- I happen to know what all the ladies a’n't compelled to give unless you're a
thought of this speech, for every one of mind to.'— You should have thought of
'em afterwards told me ; but, if you'll that before you twitted me,' says I, “ be
believe me, one or two of the youngest fore all this company .'— Oh, Tira, never
of ' em kind of pretended to smile at the mind ,' says Miss Bramhall, • let it all go !'
joke on't, when Miss Jaynes looked But up spoke your Aunt Eunice, and
6
round as if she expected ' em to laugh ; says she, “ It's no more than fair to hear
for she thought, I suppose, I was really Tira's reasons, after what's been said ." "
and truly no account, bein ' a cobbler's “ Good !” said little Helen ; “ hurrah
daughter and aa tailoress , —and that when for Aunt Eunice ! ”
the minister's wife insulted me, I dars'n't “ And your ma,” resumed Statira, “ I
reply, and all hands would stand by and knew by her looks she was on my side,
applaud. But she found out her mistake, though, it bein ' her own house, she felt
and she begun to think so , when she see less free to say as much as your Aunt
how grave your ma and all the rest of Eunice did. In the first place,' says I,
the older ladies looked, for they knew if I did want to keep my money to buy
what was comin '. I'd bit my lips up till furniture with, in case I should get a
now, and held in out of respect to the husband, I expect I've a right to, for
place and the company, but I thought it ' ta’n't likely,' says I, • I shall be lucky
was due to myself to speak at last. Says enough to have my carpets giv' to me.
I, ‘ Miss Jaynes, I've always treated you
6
But that wa’n't the reason I didn't put
with civility and the respect due to your my name down for a dollar on that sub
place; thongh I own I ha’n’t felt free to scription. One reason was, I knew the
236 Akin by Marriage. [ December,
upshot on't would be that somebody would jealous, at first, that Miss Jaynes had
be put up to suggestin' that the money put her up to it, to try to get round me
should go for a life -membership in the in some way."
society for Miss Jaynes,' says I ; .and I “ Never ! ” cried Cornelia, — “ my Lau
don't like to encourage anybody in goin' ra is incapable of such baseness !”
round beggin' for money to buy her own “ Well,” said Statira, smiling, “ come
promotion to a high seat in the syna- to know her, I guess you can't find much
gogue .'— You ought to seen Miss Jaynes's guile in her, that's a fact. If I did her
face then ! It was redder'n any beet, for wrong by mistrustin ' her without cause ,
I'd hit the nail square on the head, as it I'll try to make amends. It a'n't in me
happened, and the ladies could scurcely to speak ha'sh even to a dog, if the crit
keep from smilin '.— Then,' says I, • I ter looks up into my face and wags his
shouldn't be my father's daughter, if I'd tail in honest good -nater. And I'll say
give a cent for a preacher that isn't this for Laura Stebbins , anyhow , if she is
smart enough to get his own livin ' and Miss Jaynes's sister , -she's got the most
pay for his own clothes and eddication . takin ' ways of 'most any grown-up per
To ask poor women to pay for an able- son I ever sec . "
bodied man's expenses,' says I, “ scens to The reflection is painful to a generous
me like turnin' the thing wrong end fore- mind , that, by harboring unjust suspi
most. A young feller that a’n’t smart cions of another, one has been led to re
enough to find himself in victuals and pel friendly advances with indifference
clothes won't be of much help in the or disdain . In order to assuage some re
Lord's vineyard ,' says I." morseful pangs, Miss Blake began from
“ And what did Mrs. Jaynes say ? " this time to treat Laura with distin
asked little Helen, when Tira finally guished favor. On the other hand, Lau
came to a pause. ra , delighted at this pleasant change in
" Well, really, my dear,” replied Miss Miss Blake's demeanor, sought frequent
Blake, “the woman had nothin' to say, opportunities of testifying her joy and
and so she said it. When I got through gratitude. In this manner an intimacy
my speech I handed the five-dollar gold- began , which ripened at length into a
piece to your Aunt Eunice, to send to the firm and enduring friendship. Laura
Asylum, and that ended it ; for just then soon commenced the practice of applying
Dinah come in and said tea was ready, to her more experienced friend for ad
and we all went out. It was rather stiff vice and direction in almost every mat
for a while, and after tea we all went ter, great or small, and of confiding to
home ; and for three long years Miss her trust divers secrets and confessions
Jaynes never opened her face to me, which she would never have ventured to
until I came here to live, this time. repose even in Cornelia's faithful bosom .
Now she finds it's for her interest to This prudent habit Tira encouraged.
make up, and so she tries to be as good " I know , my dear,” said she, one day,
as pie. But though I mean to be civil , “ I know what it is to be almost alone in
I'm no hypocrite, and I can't be all the world , and what a comfort it is to
honey and cream to them I don't like ; have somebody you can rely on to tell
and besides, it a’n't right to be.” your griefs and troubles to , and, as it
" But you ought not to blame Laura were , get ' em to help you bear ' em . So,
because her sister affronted you,” said my dear child , whenever you want to
Helen. get my notions on any point, just come
“ I know that, my dear,” replied Miss right straight to me, if you feel like it.
Blake ; “ and if I've hurt the girl's feelin's, I may not be able to give you the best
I'm sorry for't. She's tried hard to be advice, for I a’n't so wise as you seem to
friends with me, but I've pushed her off; think I be ; however, I ha’n’t lived nigh
for, not bein' much acquainted, I was fifty years in the world for naught, I trust,
1857.] Akin by Marriage. 237
and without havin' learnt some things secrets,” said Laura, blushing ; “ my sis
worth knowin'; and though my counsel ter never lets the beaux come to see me,
mayn't be worth much , still you shall you know . I'm going to be an old maid . ”
have the best I can give.” “Well, perhaps you will be," said Miss
" Oh, thank you , thank you ! ” cried Blake; " only they gen'ally don't make
Laura, with such a burst of passionate old maids of such lookin ' girls as you be .”
emotion that Miss Blake's eyes watered But though Miss Blake took Laura into
at the sight of it. “ My dear, dear, dear favor, she was by no means inclined to
good friend ! you don't know how glad do the same by Mrs. Jaynes, who, having
I shall be, if you will let me do as you found to her cost that the ill-will of the
say, and tell me what to do, and scold humble sempstress was not to be lightly
me,and admonish and warn me ! Oh, it contemned, was now plainly anxious to
will be such happiness to have somebody conciliate her. But Statira was proof
to tell all my real secrets and troubles against all the whecdling and flattery
to ! I do so need such a friend soine- of the parson's wife, behaving towards
times ! ” her always with the same cool civility,
“ Don't I know it, you poor dear ? ” said and with great self-control,—using none
Miss Blake, wiping her eyes. “ Ha'n't I of the frequent opportunities afforded
been through the same straits myself ? her to make some taunt, or fling,'or re
None but them that's been a young gal proachful allusion to Mrs. Jaynes's for
themselves, an orphan without a mother mer conduct. Once, to be sure, when
to confide in and to warn and guide 'em , urged by the parson's wife and a com
knows what it is. But I do, my dear ; mittee of the Dorcas Society to invite
and though I shall be a pretty poor sub- that respectable body to convene at the
stitute for an own mother, I'll do the best Bugbee mansion for labor and refresh
I can . " ment, Statira returned a reply so plain
“ Tira,” said Laura, with a tearful and ly spoken that it was deemed rude and
blushing cheek held up to the good spin- ungracious.
ster's, “kiss me, won't you ? -you never “ Cornelia is mistress of this house,
have . " Miss Jaynes,” said she, “ and if she be
66
“ My dear,” said Miss Blake, preparing longed to your society, and wanted to
to comply with this request by wiping her have its weekly meetin's bere in turn ,
lips with her apron, “ you see 1 a’n't one I'd do my best to give 'em somethin '
of the kissin' sort, and I scurcely ever kiss good to eat and drink. But as she has
6
a grown -up person ; but here's my hand, left the matter to me, I say · No,' without
and here's a kiss," — with an old -fashioned any misgivin' or doubt; and for fear I
smack that might have been heard in may be called stingy or unsociable, I'll
the next room ,— " for a token that you tell the reason why I say so ,—and be
may always come to me as freely as if I sides, it's due to you to tell it. There's
was your mother, relyin ' upon my givin’ poor women, even in this town, put to
you my honest advice and opinion con- it to get employment by which they can
cernin ' any affair that you may ask for earn bread for themselves and their chil
counsel upon . And furthermore, as girls dren. They can't go out to do housework,
naterally have a wish that the very things for they've got young ones too little to
they need some one to direct 'em the carry with ' em , and maybe a whole fami
most in sha'n't be known except by them ly of 'em . Takin ' in sewin ' is their only
they tell the secret to, I promise you , my resource. Well, ma'am , for ladies, well
dear, that I'll be as close as a freemason to -do and rich, to get together, under
concernin ' any privacy that you may pretence of good works and charity, and
trust me with, about any offer or court- take away work from these poor women ,
in ' matter of any kind . " by offerin ' to do it cheaper, underbiddin '
Oh, I shall never have any such of 'em for jobs, which I've known the
238 Akin by Marriage. [ December,
thing to be done, and then settin ' over But the revolving seasons twice went
their ill-gotten tasks, sewin ', and gabblin' their annual round, the great weeping
slander all the afternoon, to get money willow -tree in the burying-ground twice
to buy velvet pulpit-cushions or gilt chan- put forth its tender foliage in the early
deliers with, or to help pay some mission- spring, and twice in autumn strewed
ary's passage to the Tongoo Islands, is, in with yellow leaves the mound of Mrs.
my opinion, a humbug, and, what's worse, Bugbee's grave, while the predictions of
a downright breach of the Golden Rule. many, who, like Mrs. Prouty, had fore
At any rate, with my notions, it would be told the Doctor's second wedding, still
hypocrisy in me to join in, and that's remained without fulfilment. Nay, at
why I don't invite the society here. I the end of two years after his wife's
don't know but I have spoke too strong; death, Doctor Bugbee seemed to be no
if so, I'm sorry ; but I've had to carn my more disposed to matrimony than in the
own livin', ever since I was a girl, with first days of his bereavement. There
my needle, and I know how hard the lot were, to be sure, floating on the current
of them is that have to do so too. Be of village gossip, certain rumors that he
sides, I can't help thinkin ', what, perhaps, was soon to take a second wife ; but as
you never thought of, yourselves, ladies, none of these reports agreed touching
that every person , who, while they can the name of the lady, each contradicted
just as well turn their hands to other all the others, and so none were of much
business, yet, for their own whim , or account. Besides, there was nothing in
pleasure, or convenience, or profit, the Doctor's appearance or behavior that
chooses to do work, of which there a'n't seemed to warrant any of these idle
enough now in the world to keep in em- stories. It is the way with many hope
ployment them that must get such work ful widowers (as everybody knows) to
to do, or else beg, or sin, or starve, - become, after an interval of decorous
when I think, I say, that every such per- sadness, more brisk and gay than even
son helps some poor cretur into the grave, in their youthful days ; bestowing un
or the jail, or a place worse than both, I usual care upon their attire and the
feel that strong talk isn't out of place ; adornment of their persons, and endeav
and I've known this very Dorcas Society oring, by a courteous and gallant de
to send to Hartford and get shirts to meanor towards every unmarried lady,
make, under price, and spend their to signify the great esteem in which they
blod -money afterwards to buy a new hold the female sex. But these signs,
carpet for the minister's parlor. That and all others which betoken an ardent
was a fact, Miss Jaynes, though perhaps desire to win the favor of the fair, were
it wa’n't polite in me to speak on't ; and wanting in the Doctor's aspect and
so for fear of worse, I'll say no more.” deportment. Though, as my reader
When this speech of his housekeeper knows, he was by nature a man of
came to the Doctor's cars, he expressed lively temper, he was now grown more
80 warm an approval of its sentiments, sedate than he had ever been before ;
that several who heard him began to be and instead of attiring himself more
confirmed in suspicions they had pre- sprucely than of old, he neglected his
apparel to such a degree, that, although
viously entertained, the nature of which
may be inferred from a remark which few would have noticed the untidy
Mrs. Prouty confided to the ear of a change, Statira was filled with continual
trusty friend and crony. “ Now do you alarms, lest some invidious housewife
mind what I say, Miss Baker,” said she, should perceive it, and lay the blame at
shaking her snuffy forefinger in Mrs. her door. Except when called abroad
Baker's face ; “ Doctor Bugbee'll marry to perform some professional duty, he
Tira Blake yet. Now do you just stick spent his time at home, although his fam
a pin there .” ily observed that he secluded himself in
1857.] Where will it End ? 239

his office, among his books and galli-
pots, more than had been his wont, and
that he sometimes indulged in moods
of silent abstraction, which had never
been noticed in his manner until of late .
But these changes of demeanor seemed
to betoken an enduring sorrow for the
loss of his wife, rather than to indicate a
desire or an intention to choose a succes-
sor to her. My readers, therefore, will
[ To be continued in the next Number.]
not be surprised to learn, by a plain
averment of the simple truth, that not
one of all the score of ladies, whose
names had been coupled with his own,
would Doctor Bugbee bave married , if
he could, and that to none of them had
he ever given any good reason for be
lieving that she stood especially high in
his esteem .

WHERE WILL IT END ?

Wise men of every name and nation, liest exercised in divining who built them
whether poets, philosophers, statesmen, first, and why they exist at all. The
or divines, have been trying to explain infant Chinese, the baby Calmuck , the
the puzzles of human condition, since the suckling Hottentot, we must suppose, rest
world began. For three thousand years, unconsciously in the calm of the heaven
at least, they have been at this problem , from which they, too, have emigrated, as
and it is far enough from being solved well as the sturdy new -born Briton, or
yet. Its anomalies seem to have been the freest and most independent little
expressly contrived by Nature to elude Yankee that is native and to the manner
our curiosity and defy our cunning. born of this great country of our own .
And no part of it has she arranged so But all alike grow gradually into a con
craftily as that web of institutions, habits, sciousness of walls, which, though invisi
manners, and customs, in which we find ble, are none the less impassable, and of
ourselves enmeshed as soon as we begin chains, though light as air, yet stronger
to have any perception at all, and which, than brass or iron. And everywhere is
slight and almost invisible as it may seem, the machinery ready, though different
it is so hard to struggle with and so im- in its frame and operation in different
possible to break through. It may be torturc-chambers, to crush out the bud
true,accoruling to the poetical Platonism ding skepticism , and to mould the mind
of Wordsworth , that “ hcaven lies about into the monotonous decency of general
us in our infancy ” ; but we very soon conformity. Fo or Fetish, King or Kai
leave it far behind us, and, as we ap- ser, Deity itself or the vicegerents it has
proach manhood, sadly discover that we appointed in its stead, are answerable for
have grown up into a jurisdiction of a it all. God himself has looked upon it,
very different kind. and it is very good, and there is no ap
In almost every region of the earth, peal from that approval of the Heavenly
indeed, it is literally true that “ shades vision.
of the prison -house begin to close upon In almost every country in the world
the growing boy.” As his faculties de- this deification of institutions has been
velope, he becomes more and more con- promoted by their antiquity. As nobody
scious of the deepening shadows, as well can remember when they were not, and
as of the grim walls that cast them on his as no authentic records exist of their first
soul, and his opening intelligence is ear- establishment, their genealogy can be
240 There will it End ? [ December,
traced direct to Ilearen without danger magic touch of Labor to Fare with eve
of positive disproof. Thus royal races ry harvest and blush with every fruit
and bereditary aristocracies and privi- age. Majestic forests crown the hills,
leged priesthoods established themselves asking to be transformed into homes
50 firmly in the opinion of Europe, as for man on the solid earth , or into the
well as of A -11, and still retain so much moving miracles in which he flies on
of their prestige there, notwithstanding wings of wind or flame over the ocean
the turnings and overturnings of the last to the ends of the earth . Exhaustless
two centuries. This northern half of mineral treasures offer themselves to his
the great American continent, however, hand, scarce hidden beneath the soil,
seems to have been kept back by Nature or lying carelessly upon the surface ,
as a tabula rasa , a clean blackboard, on coal, and lead, and copper, and the “ all
which the creat problem of civil gove worshipped ore ” of gold itself ; while
erament might be worked out, without quarties, reaching to the centre , from
any of the incongruous drawbacks which many a rugged hill-top, barren of all
have cast perplexity and despair upon beside, court the architert and the
those who have undertaken its solution sculptor, ready to give shape to their
in the elder world. All the elements of dreams of beauty in the palace or in
the demonstration were of the most fa- the statue .
vorable nature. Settled by races who The soil, too, is fitted by the influences
bad inherited or achieved whatever of of every sky for the production of every
constitutional liberty existed in the world , harvest that can bring food, comfort,
with no hereditary monarcb, or governing wealth, and luxury to man. Every fami
oligarchy, or established religion on the ly of the grasses, every cereal that can
coil, with every opportunity to avoid all strengthen the heart, every fruit that can
the vices and to better all the virtues of delight the taste, every fibre that can be
the old polities, the era before which all woven into raiment or persuaded into
history had been appointed to prepare the thousand shapes of human necessity,
the way seemed to have arrived , when asks but a gentle solicitation to pour its
the just relations of personal liberty and abundance bounteously into the bosom
civil government were to be established of the husbandman . And men have
forever. multiplied under conditions thus auspi
And how magnificent the field on cious to life, until they swarm on the
which the trophy of this final victory Atlantic slope, are fast filling up the
of a true civilization was to be erected ! great valley of the Mississippi, and grad
No empire or kingdom , at least since ually flow over upon the descent towards
imperial Rome perished from the earth , the Pacific. The three millions, who
ever unrolled a surface so vast and so formed the population of the Thirteen
variegated, so manifold in its fertilities States that set the British empire at
and so various in its aspects of beauty defiance, have grown up into a nation
and sublimity. From the Northern of nearly, if not quite, ten times that
wastes, where the hunter and the trapper strength, within the duration of active
pursue by force or guile the fur-bearing lives not yet finished . And in freedom
animals, to the ever-perfumed latituiles from unmanageable debt, in abundance
of the lemon and the myrtle ,—from the and certainty of revenue, in the materials
stormy Atlantic, where the skiff of the for naval armaments, in the elements of
fisherman rocks fearlessly under the which armies are made up, in cvery
menace of beetling crags amid the foam thing that goes to form national wealth,
of angry breakers, to where the solemn power, and strength, the United States,
surge of the Pacific pours itself around it would seem , even as they are now,
our Western continent, boon Nature has might stand against the world in arms,
spread out fields which ask only the or in the arts of peace. Are not these
1857.] Where will it End ? 241

results proofs irrefragable of the wisdom it is weak and dependent. - Why this
of the government under which they difference between the two ?
have come to pass ? The why is not far to seek . It is to be
When the eyes of the thoughtful in- found in the reward which Labor bestows
quirer turn from the general prospect of on those that pay it due reverence in the
the national greatness and strength, to one case , and the punishment it inflicts
the geographical divisions of the country, on those offering it outrage and insult in
to examine the relative proportions of the other. All wealth proceeding forth
these gifts contributed by each, he begins from Labor, the land where it is honored
to be aware that there are anomalies in and its ministers respected and reward
the moral and political condition even ed must needs rejoice in the greatest
of this youngest of nations, not unlike abundance of its gitts. Where, on the
what have perplexed him in his observa- contrary, its exercise is regarded as the
tion of her elder sisters. lle beholds the badge of dishonor and the vile office of
Southern region, embracing within its the refuse and offscouring of the race,
circuit three hundred thousan'l more its largess must be proportionably meagre
square miles than the domain of the and scanty. The key of the enigma is
North, dowered with a soil incomparably to be found in the constitution of human
more fertile, watered by mighty rivers nainre . A man in fetters cannot do the
fit to float the argo-ies of the world, task-work that oro whose limbs are un
placed 'nearer the sun and canopied shackled looks upon as a pastime. A
by more propitious skies, with every man urged by the prospect of winning
element of prosperity and wealih show- an improved condition for himself and
ered upon it with Nature's fullest and his children by the skill of his brain
most unwithdrawing hand, and sees, and the industry of his hand must needs
that, notwithstanding all this, the share achieve results such as no fear of torture
of public wealth and strength drawn can extort froin onc denied the holy
thence is almost inappreciable by the stimulus of hope . Hence the difference
side of what is poured into the common so often noticed between tracts lying side
stock by the strenuous sterility of the by side, separated only by a river or an
North . With every opportunity and imaginary line ; on one side of which,
means that Nature can supply for com- thrift and comfort and gathering wealth,
merce, with navigable rivers searching growing villages, smiling farms, con
its remotest corners , with admirable har . venient habitations, school-houses, and
bors in which the navies of the world churches make the landscape beautiful ;
might ride, with the chicf articles of ex- while on the other, slovenly husbandry,
port for its staple productions, it still dilapidated mansions, sordid huts, peril
depends upon its Northern partner to ous wastes, horrible roads, the rare spire,
fetch and carry all that it produces, and aud rarer village school betray all the
the little that it consumes. Possessed of nakedness of the land. It is the magic
all the raw materials of manufactures and of motive that calls forth all this wealth
the arts, its inhabitants look to the North and beauty to bless the most sterile soil
for everything they need from the cradle stirred by willing and intelligent labor;
to the coffin . Essentially agricultural in while the reversing of that spell scatters
its constitution , with every blessing Na- squalor and poverty and misery over
ture can bestow upon it, the gross value lands endowed by Nature with the high
of all its productions is less by millions est fertility, spreading their leprous in
than that of the simple grass of the field fection from the laborer to his lord . All
gathered into Northern barns. With all this is in strict accordance with the laws
the means and materials of wealth, the of God, as expounded by man in his
South is poor. With every advantage books on political economy.
for gathering strength and self-reliance, Not so , however, with the stranger
VOL . I. 16
242 Where will it End ? [ December,
phenomenon to be discerned inextricably evil fairy of the nursery tale , she was pres
connected with this anomaly, but not, ent to curse it with her fatal words. The
apparently, naturally and inevitably flow- spell then wound up has gone on increas
ing from it. That the denial of his ing in power, until the scanty formulas
natural and civil rights to the laborer which seemed in those days of infancy as
who sows and reaps the harvests of the if they would fade out of the parchment
Southern country should be avenged into which they had been foisted, and
upon his enslaver in the scanty yield- leave no trace that they ever were, have
ing of the earth, and in the unthrift, the blotted out all beside, and statesmen
vices, and the wretchedness which are and judges read nothing there but the
the only crops that spring spontaneously awful and all-pervading name of Slavery.
from soil blasted by slavery, is nothing Once intrenched among the institutions
strange. It is only the statement of the of the country, this baleful power has ad
truism in moral and in political econo vanced from one position to another,
my, that truc prosperity can never grow never losing ground, but establishing it
up from wrong and wickedness. That self at each successive point more im
pauperism , and ignorance, and vice, that pregnably than before, until it has us at
reckless habits, and debasing customs, an advantage that encourages it to de
and barbarous manners should come of mand the surrender of our rights, our
an organized degradation of labor, and self-respect, and our honor. What was
of cruelty and injustice crystallized into . once whispered in the secret chamber of
an institution, is an inevitable necessity, council is now proclaimed upon the house
and strictly according to the nature of tops ; what was once done by indirection
things. But that the stronger half of and guile is now carried with the high
the nation should suffer the weaker to hand, in the face of day, at the mouth of
rule over it in virtue of its weakness, the cannon and by the edge of the sabre
that the richer region should submit to of the nation. Doctrines and designs
the political tyranny of its impoverished which a few years since could find no
moiety because of that very poverty, is mouthpiece out of a bar-room , or the
indeed a marvel and a mystery. That piratical den of a fillibuster, are now
the intelligent, educated , and civilized clothed with power by the authentic re
portion of a race should consent to the sponse of the bench of our highest judi
sway of their ignorant, illiterate, and catory , and obsequiously iterated from
barbarian companions in the common- the oracular recesses of the National
wealth, and this by reason of that Palace.
uncouth barbarism, is an astonishment, And the events which now fill the
and should be a li sing to all beholders scene are but due successors in the train
everywhere. It would be so to our- that has swept over the stage ever since
selves, were we not so used to the fact the nineteenth century opened the pro
had it not so grown into our essence and cession with the purchase of Louisiana.
ingrained itself with our nature as to The acquisition of that vast territory, im
seem a vital organisti of our being. Of portant as it was in a national point of
all the anomalies in morals and in poli- view ,—but coveted by the South mainly
tics which the history of civilized man as the fruitful mother of slave-holding
affords, this is surely the most abnormous States, and for the precedent it estab
and the most unreasonable. lished , that the Constitution was a bar
The entire history of the United rier only to what should impede, never
States is but the record of the cvidence to what might promote, the interests of
of this fact. What event in our annals is Slavery,—was the first great stride she
there that Slavery has not set her brand made as she stalked to her design .
upon it to mark it as her own ? In the The admission of Missouri as a slave
very moment of the nation's birth, like the holding State , granted after a struggle
1857.] Where will it End ? 243

that shook American society to the cen- admiration , in the mind of every obsery
tre, and then only on the memorable er. Have the slave-owners thus gono
promises now broken to the ear as well on from victory to victory and from
as to the hope, was the next vantage- strength to strength by reason of their
ground seized and maintained . The multitude, of their wealth , of their pub
nearly contemporary purchase of Flor- lic scrvices, of their intelligence, of their
ida, though in design and in effect as wisdom , of their genius, or of their vir
revolutionary an action as that of Louisi- tue ? Success in gigantic crime some
ana, excited comparatively little opposi- times implies a strength and energy
tion. It was but the following up of an which compel a kind of respect even
ackuowledged victory by the Slave Pow- from those that hate it most. The right
er. The long and bloody wars in her supremacy of the power that thus sways
miserable swamps, waged against the our destiny clearly does not reside in
humanity of savages that gave shelter to the overwhelming numbers of those that
thc fugitives from her tyranny, -slave- bear rule. The entire sum of all who
hunts, merely, on a national scale and have any direct connection with Sla
at the common expense, —followed next very , as owners or hirers, is less than
in the march of events. Then Texas THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TIIOU
loomed in the distance, and, after years SAND , —not half as many as the inhabi
of gradual approach and covert advan- tants of the single city of New York !
ces, was first wrested from Mexico, Sla- And yet even this number exaggerates
very next indissolubly chained to her, the numerical force of the doininant
and then, by a coup d'état of astonish- element in our affairs. To approximate
ing impudence , was added , by a flourish to the true result, it would be fair to
of John Tyler's pen, in the very article strike from the gross sum those owning
of his political dissolution , to “the Area or employing less than ten slaves, in
of Freedom ! ” Next came the war with order to arrive at the number of slave
Mexico, lying in its pretences, bloodly in owners who really compose the ruling
its conduct, triumphant in its results , — influence of the nation. This would
for it won vast regions suitable for Sla- leave but a small fraction over NINETY
very now, and taught the way to win THOUSAND , men, women , and children ,
larger conquests when her ever-hungry owning slaves enough to unite them in
naw should crave them. What need to a common interest. And from this should
recount the Fugitive- Slave Bill, and the be deducted the women and minors, act
other “ Compromises ” of 1850 ? or to ually owning slaves in their own right,
recite the base repeal of the Missouri but who have no voice in public affairs.
Compromise, showing the slaveholder's These taken away, and the absentees
regarul for promises to be as sacred as flying to Europe or the North from the
that of a pettifogger for justice or of a moral contaminations and material dis
dicer for an oath ? or to point to the comforts inseparable from Slavery, and
plains of Kansas, red with the blood of not much more than FIFTY THOUSAND
her sons and blackened with the cinders voting men will remain to represent this
of her towns, while the President of the mighty and all-controlling power ! -a
United States held the sword of the na- fact as astounding as it is incontroverti
tion at her throat to compel her to sub ble.
niission ? Oligarchies are nothing new in the
Success, perpetual and transcendent, history of the world . The government
such as has always waited on Slavery in of the many by the few is the rule, and
all her attempts to mould the history of not the exception, in the polities of the
the country and to compel the course of times that have been and of those that
its events to do her bidding, naturally now are . But the concentration of the
excites a measure of curiosity if not of power that determines the policy, makes
244 Where will it End ? [ December,
the laws, and appoints the ministers of a book has the South ever given to the
mighty nation , in the hands of less than libraries of the world ? What work of
the five-hundredth part of its members, is art has she ever added to its galleries ?
an improvement on the essence of the What artist has she produced that did
elder aristocracies ; while the usurpation not instinctively fly, like Allston, to re
of the title of the Model Republic and of gions in which genius could breathe and
the Pattern Democracy, under which we W art was possible ? What statesman has
offer ourselves to the admiration and imi- she reared , since Jefferson died and
tation of less happy nations, is certain- Madison ceased to write, save those in
ly a refinement on their nomenclature. trepid discoverers who have taught that
This prerogative of power, too , is else- Slavery is the corner-stone of republican
where conceded by the multitude to their institutions, and the vital element of
rulers generally for some especial fitness, Freedom berself ? What divine, except
real or imaginary, for the office they have ing the godly men whose theologic skill
assumed . Some services of their own or has attained to the doctrine that Slavery
of their ancestors to the state, some su- is of the essence of the Gospel of Jesus
periority, natural or acquired, of parts or Christ ? What moralist, besides those
skill, at least some specialty of high cul- ethic doctors who teach that it is accord
ture and clegant breeding, a quick sense ing to the Divine Justice that the strong
of honor, a jealousy of insult to the pub- er race should strip the weaker of eve
lic, an impatience of personal stain , -- some ry civil, social, and moral right ? The
or all of these qualities, appealing to the unrighteous partiality, extorted by the
gratitude or to the imagination of the threats of Carolina and Georgia in 1788,
masses, have usually been supposed to which gives them a disproportionate rep
inhere in the class they perinit to rule resentation because of their property
over them . By virtue of some or all of in men , and the unity of interest which
these things, its members have had al- makes them always act in behalf of Sla.
lowed to them their privileges and their very as one man, have made them thus
precedency, their rights of exemption omnipotent. The North, distracted by a
and of preëminence, their voice poten- thousand interests, has always been at
tial in the councils of the state, and their the mercy of whatever barbarian chief
claim to be foremost in its defence in in the capitol could throw his slave-whip
the hour of its danger. Some ray of into the trembling scale of party. The
imagination there is, which, falling on the government having been always, since
knightly shields and heraldic devices that this century begon, at least, the crea
symbolize their conceded superiority, at ture and the tool of the slaveholders,
least dazzles the eyes and delights the the whole patronage of the nation, and
fancy of the crowd , so as to blind them the treasury filled chiefly by Northern
to the inhering vices and essential falla- commerce, have been at their command
cies of the Order to whose will they bow. to help manipulate and mould plastic
But no such consolations of delusion Northern consciences into practicable
remain to us, as we stand face to faue shapes. When the slave interest, con
with the Power which holds our destinies sisting, at its own largest account of it
in its hand. None of these blear illu- self, of less than TIIREE HUNDRED AND
sions can cheat our eyes with any such FIFTY THOUSAND souls, has thirty mem
false presentments. No antiquity hal- bers of the Senate, while the free -labor
lows, no public services consecrate, no interest, consisting of at least TWENTY
gifts of lofty culture adorn, no graces of FOUR MILLIONS, SIX ILXDRED AND

noble breeding embellish the coarse and FIFTY THOUSAND souls, has but thirty
sordid oligarchy that gives law to us. two, and when the former has a delo
And in the blighting shadow of Slavery gation of some score of members to
letters die and art cannot live. What represent its slaves in the House, besides
 1857.] Where will it End ? 245

its own fair proportion, can we marvel ed insignificances, who knows or cares
that it has achieved the mastery over us, whence they came or what they are ?
which is written in black and bloody We know whose bidding they were ap
characters on so many pages of our pointed to obey, and what manner of
history ? work they are ready to perform . And
Such having been the absolute sway shall we dare extend our profane com
Slavery has exercised over the facts of parisons even higher than the Cabinet ?
our history, what has been its influence Shall we bring the shadowy majesty of
upon the characters of the men with Washington's august idea alongside the
whoin it has had to do ? Of all the pro- microscopic realities of to-day ? Let us
ductions of a nation , its men are what bc more merciful, and take our depar
prove its quality the most surely. How ture from the middle term between the
have the men of America stood this test ? Old and the New, occupied by Andrew
Have those in the high places, they who Jackson , whose iron will and doggedness
have been called to wait at the altar of purpose give definite character, if not
before all the people, maintained the dig- awful dignity, to his image. In his time,
nity of character and secured the gen- the Slave Power, though always the
eral reverence which marked and waited secret spring which set events in motion ,
upon their predecessors in the days of began to let its workings be seen more
our small things ? The population of openly than ever before. And from his
the United States has multiplied itself time forward, what a graduated line of
nearly tenfold , while its wealth has in- still diminishing shadows have glided
creased in a still greater proportion , successively through the portals of the
since the peace of 'Eighty- Three. Have White House ! From Van Buren to
the Representative Men of the nation Tyler, from Tyler to Polk, from Polk
been made or maintained great and to Fillimore, from Fillmore to Pierce !
magnanimous, too ? Or is that other " Finc by degrees and beautifully less,”
anomaly, which has so perplexed the until it at last reached the vanishing
curious foreigner, an admitted fact, that point !
in proportion as the country has wax- The baleful influence thus ever shed
cd great and powerful, its public men by Slavery on our national history and
have dwindled from giants in the last our public men has not yet spent its
century to dwarfs in this ? Alas, to ask malignant forces. It has, indeed, reach
the question is to answer it. Compare ed a height which a few years ago it
Franklin, and Adams, and Jay, met at was thought the wildest fanaticism to
Paris to negotiate the treaty of peace predict ; but its fatal power will not be
which was to seal the recognition of their stayed in the mid-sweep of its career.
country as an equal sister in the family The Ordinance of 1787 torn to shreds
of nations, with Buchanan, and Soulé, and scattered to the winds, —the line
and Mason , convened at Ostend to plot drawn in 1820, which the slaveholders
the larceny of Cuba ! Sages and law- plighted their faith Slavery should never
givers, consulting for the welfare of a overstep, insolently as well as infamous
world and a race, on the one hand, and ly obliterated,-Slavery presiding in the
buccaneers conspiring for the pillage of a Cabinet, seated on the Supreme Bench,
sugar-island on the other ! absolute in the halls of Congress, —no
What men , too, did not Washington man can say what shape its next aggres
and Adams call around them in the sion may not take to itself. A direct
Cabinet! - how representative of great attack on the freedom of the press and
ideas ! how historical! how immortal ! the liberty of speech at the North, where
How many of our readers can name alone either exists, were no more in
the names of their successors of the credible than the later insolences of its
present day ? Inflated obscurities, bloat tyranny. The battle not yet over in
246 Where will it End ? [ December
Kansas, for the compulsory establish- by any indignities, to fervent resentment
ment of Slavery there by the interposi- and effectual resistance ? The answer
tion of the Federal arm , will be renewed to these grave questions lies with our
in every Territory as it is ripening into selves alone. One hundred thousand, or
a State. Already warning voices are three hundred thousand men , however
heard in the air, presaging such a con- crafty and unscrupulous, carnot for
flict in Oregon. Parasites everywhere ever keep under their rule more than
instinctively feel that a zeal for the twenty millions, as much their superiors
establishment of Slavery where it has in wealth and intelligence as in numbers,
been abolished, or its introduction where except by their own consent. If the
it had been prohibited, is the highest growing millions are to be driven with
recommendation to the Executive favor. cartwhips along the pathway of their his
The rehabilitation of the African slave- tory by the dwindling thousands, they
trade is seriously proposed and will be have none to blame for it but themsclves .
furiously urged, and nothing can hinder If they like to have their laws framed
its accomplishment but its interference and expounded, their presidents ap
with the domestic manufactures of the pointed, their foreign policy dictated,
breeding Slave States. The pirate their domestic interests tampered with,
Walker is already mustering his forces their war and peace made for them ,
for another incursion into Nicaragua, their national fame and personal honor
and rumors are rife that General Hous- tarnished, and the lie given to all their
ton designs wresting yet another Texas boastings before the old despotisms, by
from Mexico. Mighty events are at this insignificant fraction of their num
band, even at the door ; and the mission ber,-- scarcely visible to the naked eye
of them all will be to fix Slavery firmly in the assembly of the whole people ,
and forever on the throne of this nation. none can gainsay or resist their pleasure.
Is the success of this conspiracy to be But will the many always thus sub
final and eternal ? Are the States which mit themselves to the domination of the
name themselves, in simplicity or in irony, few ? We believe that the days of this
the Free States, to be always the satra- ignominious subjection are already num
pies of a central power like this ? Are bered. Signs in heaven and on earth
we forever to submit to be cheated out tell us that one of those movements has
of our national rights by an oligarchy as begun to be felt in the Northern mind,
despicable as it is detestable, because it which perplex tyrannies everywhere with
clothes itself in the forms of democracy, the fear of change. The insults and
and allows us the ceremonies of choice, wrongs so long heaped upon the North by
the name of power, and the permission the South begin to be felt. The torpid
to register the edicts of the sovereign ? giant moves uncasily beneath his moun
We, who broke the sceptre of King tain - load of indignities. The people of
George, and set our feet on the suprem- the North begin to feel that they support
acy of the British Parliament, surrender a government for the benefit of their nat
ourselves, bound hand and foot in bonds ural enemies; for, of all antipathies, that
of our own weaving, into the hands of of slave labor to free is the most deadly
the slavebolding Philistines ! We, who and irreconcilable. There never was a
scorned the rule of the aristocracy of time when the relations of the North and
English acres , submit without a mur- the South, as complicated by Slavery,
mur, or with an ineffectual resistance, were so well understood and so deeply
to the aristocracy of American flesh and resented as now. In fields, in farm
blood ! Is our spirit effectually broken ? houses, and in workshops, there is a
is the brand of meanoess and compro- spirit aroused which can never be laid
mise burnt in uneffaceably upon our or exorcised till it has done its task .
souls ? and are we never to be roused, We see its work in the great uprising of
1857.] Where will it End ? 247

the Free States against the Slave States as best to secure their own supremacy.
in the late national election. Though No word of dissent to the institutions
trickery and corruption cheated it of its under which they live, no syllable of dis
end, the thunder of its protest struck ter- satisfaction, even , with any ofthe excesses
ror into the hearts of the tyrants. We they stimulate, can be breathed in safety.
hear its echo, as it comes back from the A Christian minister in Teunessce re
Slave States theinselves, in the exceeding lates an act of fiendish cruelty inflicted
bitter cry of the whites for deliverance upon a slave by one of the members of
from the bondage which the slavery of his church , and he is forced to leave his
the blacks bas brought upon them also charge, if not to fly the country. Anoth
We discern the confession of its might in er in South Carolina presumes to express
the very extravagances and violences of in conversation his disapprobation of the
the Slave Power. It is its conscious and murderous assault of Brooks on Senator
admitted weakness that has made Texas Sumner, and his pastoral relations are
and Mexico and Cuba, and our own broken up on the instant, as if he had
Northwestern territory, necessary to be been guilty of gross crime or flagrant
devoured. It is desperation, and not heresy. Professor Hedrick, in North
strength, that has made the bludgeon Carolina, ventures to utter a preference
and the bowie -knife integral parts of the for the Northern candidate in the last
national legislation. It has the Ameri- presidential campaign, and he is summa
can Government, the American Press, rily ejected from his chair, and virtually
and the American Church, in its na- banisher froin his native State . Mr.
tional organizations, on its side ; but the Underwood, of Virginia, dares to attend
Humanity and the Christianity of the the convention of the party he preferred,
Nation and the World abhor and exe- and he is forbidden to return to his home
crate it. They that be against it are on pain of death. The blackness of
more than they that be for it. darkness and the stillness of death arc
It rages, for its time is short. And its thus forced to brood over that land which
rage is the fiercer because of the symp God formed so fair, and made to be so
toms of rebellion against its despotism happy.
which it discerns among the white men That such a tyranny should excite an
of the South, who from poverty or from antagonistic spirit of resistance is inevi
principle have no share in its sway. table from the constitution of man and
When we speak of the South as distin- the character of God. The sporadic
guished from the North by elements of cases of protest and of resistance to the
inherent hostility, we speak only of the slaveholding aristocracy, which lift them
governing faction, and not of the millions selves occasionally above the dead level
of nominally free men who are scarcely of the surrounding despotism , are repre
less its thralls than the black slaves them- sentative cases. They stand for much
selves. This unhappy class of our coun- more than their single selves. They
trymen are the first to feel the blight prove that there is a wide -spread spirit
which Slavery spreads around it, be- of discontent, informing great regions of
cause they are the nearest to its noxious the slave-land, which must one day find
power. The subjects of no European or force an opportunity of making itself
despotism are under a closer espionage, heard and felt. This we have just seen
or a inore organized system of terrorism , in the great movement in Missouri, the
than are they. The slaveholders, having very nursing -mother of Border-Ruffian
the wealth, and nearly all the education ism itself, which narrowly missed mak
that the South can boast of, employing Emancipation the policy of the
these mighty instruments of power to majority of the voters there. Such a
create the public sentiment and to con- result is the product of no sudden cul
trol the public affairs of their region, so ture . It must have been long and
248 Where will it End ? [ December,
slowly growing up. And how could it its will is once thoroughly excited . Men
be otherwise ? There must be intelli- look out upon the world they live in, and
gence enough among the non - slavehold- it seems as if a change for the better
ing whites to see the difference there is were hopeless and impossible. The great
between themselves and persons of the statesmen , the eminent divines, the rever
same condition in the Free States. Why end judges, the learned lawyers, the
can they have no free schools ? Why is wealthy landholders and merchants are
it necessary that a missionary society be all leagued together to repel innovation .
formed at the North to furnish them with But the earth still moves in its orbit
such ministers as the slave -master can around the sun ; decay and change and
approve ? Why can they not support death pursue their inevitable course ; the
their own ministers, and have a Gospel child is born and grows up ; the strong
of Free Labor preached to them , if they man grows old and dies ; the law of flux
choose ? Why are they bindered from and efflux never ceases, and lo ! ere men
taking such newspapers as they please ? are aware of it, all things have become
Why are they subjected to a censorship new . Fresh eyes look upon the world,
of the press, which dictates to them what and it is changed. Where are now Cal
they may or may not read, and which houn, and Clay, and Webster ? Where
punishes booksellers with exile and ruin will shortly be Cass, and Buchanan, and
for keeping for sale what they want to Benton, and their like ? Vanished from
buy ? Why niust Northern publishers the stage of affairs, if not froin the face
expurgate and emasculate theliterature of Nature. Who are to take their
of the world before it is permitted to places ? God knows. But we know
reach them ? Why is it that the value that the school in which men are now in
of acres increases in a geometrical ratio, training for the arena is very different
as they stretch away towards the North from the one which formed the past anıl
Star from the frontier of Slavery ? passing generations of politicians. Great
These questions must suggest their suffi- ideas are abroad, challenging the en
cient answer to thousands of hearts, and counter of youth. Angels wrestle with
be preparing the way for the insurrection the men of this generation , as with the
of which the slaveholders stand in the Patriarch of old , and it is our own fault
deadliest fear, —that of the whites at their if a blessing be not extorted ere they
gates, who can do with them and their take their flight. Principles, like those
institutions what seems to them good, which in the carlier days of the repub
when once they know their power, and lic elevated men into statesmen, are now
choose to put it forth. The unity of in- again in the field, chasing the policies
terest of the non -slaveholders of the which have dwarfed their sons into poli
South with the people of the Free States ticians. These things are portentous of
is perfect, and it must one day combine change,-perhaps sudden , but, however
them in a unity of action. delayed, inevitable .
The exact time when the millions of the And this change, whatever the out
North and of the South shall rise upon ward shape in which it may incarnate
this puny mastership, and snatch from itself, in the fulness of time, will come
its hands the control of their own affairs, of changed ideas, opinions, and feelings
we cannot tell,-nor yet the authentic in the general mind and heart. All
shape which that righteous insurrection institutions, even those of the oldest of
will take unto itself. But we know that despotisms, exist by the perinission and
when the great body of any nation is consent of those who live under them .
thoroughly aroused, and fully in earnest Change the ideas of the thronying multi
to abate a mischief or to right a wrong, tudes by the banks of the Nova, or on
nothing can resist its energy or defeat its the shores of the Bosphorus, and they
purpose. It will provide the way, when will be changed into Republicans and
1857.] My Portrait Gallery. 249

Christians in the twinkling of an eye. whom Slavery grinds under her heel,
Not merely the Kingdom of Heaven, but shall be resolutely minded that her
the kingdoms of this world, are within us. usurpation shall cease, it will disappear,
Ideas are their substance ; institutions and forever. As soon as the stone is
and customs but the shadows they cast thrown the giant will die, and men will
into the visible sphere. Mould the sub- marvel that they endured him so long.
stance ancw , and the projected shadow But this can only come to pass by virtue
must represent the altered shape within. of a change yet to be wrought in the
Hence the dread despots feel, and none hearts and minds of men. Ideas every
more than the petty despots of the plan- where are royal;—here they are impe
tation, of whatever may throw the light rial. It is the great office of genius, and
of intelligence across the mental sight of eloquence, and sacred function , and con
their slaves. Men endure the ills they spicuous station, and personal influence
have, either because they think them to herald their approach and to prepare
blessings, or because they fear lest, the way before them , that they may as
should they seek to Ay them , it might be sert their state and give holy laws to the
to others that they know not of. The listening nation . Thus a glorious form
present Bonaparte holds France in a and pressure may be given to the coming
chain because she is willing that he age. Thus the ideal of a true republic,
should. Lot her but breathe upon the of a government of laws made and ex
padlock, and, like that in the fable, it ecuted by the people, of which bards
will fade into air, and he and his dynasty have sung and prophets dreamed , and
will vanish with it. So the people of the for which martyrs have suffered and
North submit to the domination of the heroes died, may yet be possible to us,
South because they are used to it, and and the great experiment of this West
are doubtful as to what may replace it. ern World be indeed a Model, instead of
Whenever the millions, North and South, a Warning to the nations.

MY PORTRAIT GALLERY.

Oft round my hall of portraiture I gaze,

By Memory reared, the artist wise and holy,
From stainless quarries of deep -buried days.
There, as I muse in soothing melancholy,
Your faces glow in more than mortal youth,
Companions of my prime, now vanished wholly,
The loud, impetuous boy, the low -voiced maiden.
Ah, never master that drew mortal breath
Can niatch thy portraits, just and generous Death,
Whose brush with sweet regretfultints is laden !
Thou paintest that which struggled here below
Half understood , or understood for woe,
And, with a sweet forewarning,
a

Mak'st round the sacred front an aureole glow

Woven of that light that rose on Easter morning.
250 Literary Notices.
LITERARY NOTICES .
Homqopathic Domestic Physician, etc., etc.
By J. H. Pulte , M. D., Author of
“ Woman's Medical Guide,” etc. Twen-
ty - fourth thousand. Cincinnati :: Moore,
Wilstach , keys , & Co. London : James
Epps, 170, Piccadilly, 1837 .
Of course the realer understands the
following notice to be written by a vener-
able practitioner, who carries a gold -heal-
ed cane, and does not believe in any
medical authority later than Sydenham .
Listen to him , then , and remember that if
anything in the way of answer, or remon-
strance, or controversial advertisement is
sent to the head -quarters of this periodi.
cal , it will go directly into the basket ,
which entering, a manuscript leaves all
hope behind . The " old salts ” of the “ At.
lantic ” do not go for non -committal and
neutrality or any of that kind of non-
sense . Our oracle with the gold stick
must have the ground to hiinself, or keep
his wisdom for another set of readers . A
quarrel between “ Senex ” and “ Fair-
play ” would be amusing, but expensive.
We have no space for it ; and the old
gentleman , though he can use his cane
smartly for one of his age , positively de-
clines the game of single-stick. Hear him .
- The book mentioned above lies be-
fore us with its valves open , helpless as
an opster on its shell, inviting the critical
pungent, the professional acid , and the ju-
dicial impaling triilent. We will be mer-
ciful . This fat little literary mollusk is
well-conditioned , of fair aspect, and seem-
ingly gool of its kind. Twenty -four thou-
sand individuals ,—we have its title -page
as authority ,-more or less lineal descend-
ants of Solomon , have become the fortu-
nate possessors of this plethoric guide to
earthly immortality. They might have
done worse ; for the work is well printed ,
well arranged , and typographically credit- cerning which they are so ignorant, and
able to the great publishing house which
honors Cincinnati by its intelligent enter-
prise. The purchasers have done very
wisely in buying a book which will not
hurt their eyes . Mr. Otis Clapp, bibli-
opolist, has the work, and will be pleased
[ December,
to supply it to an indefinite number of
the family above referred to .
-Men live in the immediate neigh
borhood of a great menagerie , the doors
of which are always open. The beasts
of prey that come out are called diseases.
They feed upon us , and between their
teeth we must all pass sooner or later ,
all but a few , who are otherwise taken
care of. When these animals attack a
man , most of them give him a scratch or
a bite, and let him go. Some hold on a
little while ; some are carried about for
weeks or months, until the carrier drops
down, or they drop off. By and by
one is sure to come along that drags
down the strongest, and makes an end
of him .
Most people know little or nothing of
tliesc beasts, until all at once they find
themselves attacked by one of them .
They are therefore liable to be frightened
by those that are not dangerous, and care
less with those that are destructive. They
do not know what will soothe, and what
will exasperate them . They do not even
know the dens of many of them , though
they are close to their own dwellings.
A physician is one that has lived among
these beasts, and studied their aspects
and habits. He knows them all well, and
looks them in the face , and lays his hand
on their backs daily . They seem, as it
were, to know him , and to greet him with
such risus sardonicus as they can muster.
He knows that his friends and himself
have all got to be eaten up at last by
them , and his friends have the same
belief. Yet they want him near them at
all times, and with them when they are
set upon by any of these their natural
enemies . He goes , knowing pretty well
what he can do and what he cannot.
lle can talk to them in a quiet and sen .
sible way about these terrible beings, con
liable to harbor such foolish fancies. He
can frighten away some of the lesser kind
of animals with certain ill-smelling prepa
rations he carries about him . Once in a
while he can draw the tecth of some of
the biggest, or throttle them . He can
1837.] Literary Notices.
point out their dens, and so keep many
from falling into their jaws.
This is a great deal to promise or per-
fornı, but it is not all that is expected of
him . Sick people are very apt to be both
fools and cowards. Many of them contess
the fact in the frankest possible way . If
you doubt it , ask the next dentist about
the wisdom and courage ot' average man-
houd under the dispensation of a bad
tooth . As a tooth is to a liver, so are the
dentists' patients to the doctors ’, in the
want of the two excellences above men-
tioned .
Those not over-wise human beings call-
ed patients are frequently a little unrea-
sonable. They come with a small scratch,
which Nature will lical very nicely in a few
days, and insist on its being closed at once
with some kind of joiner's glue. They
want their little couglis cured , so that they
may breathe at their ease, when they have
no lungs left that are worth mentioning.
They would have called in Luke the
physician to John the Baptist, when his
liead was in the charger, and asked for a
balsam that would cure cuts. This kind
of thing cannot be done. But it is very
profitable to lie about it, and say that
it can be done. The people who make a
business of this lying, and profiting by it,
are called quacks.
-But as patients wish to believe in all
manner of " cures,” and as all doctors love
to believe in the power of thcir remedies,
and as nothirig is inore open to self-decep- .
tion than medical experience, the whole
matter of therapeutics has always been
made a great deal more of than the case
would justify . It has been an inflated
currency ,-fifty pretences on paper, to one
fact of true, ringing metal.
Many of the older books are full of
absurd nostrums. A century ago, Hux-
ham gave messes to his patients contain-
ing more than four hundred ingredients.
Remedies were ordered that must have
been suggested by the imagination ; things
odious, abominable, unmentionable ; flesh
of vipers, powder of dead men's bones , and
other horrors, best mused in expressive si-
lencc . Go to the little book of Robert
Boyle, -wise man , philosopher, revered of
Addison , - and you will find so many
-
cures for the most formidable discases,
many of them of this fantastic character,
that disease should seem to have been a
251
thing that one could turn off at will, like
gas or water in our houses. Only there
were rather too many specifics in those
days. or if one has “ an excellent ap
proved remedy ” that never fails, it seems
unnecessary to print a list of twenty others
for the same purpose. This is wanton ex
cess ; it is gilding the golden pill , and
throwing fresh perfume on the Mistura
Assatu tidæ .
As the observation of nature has ex
tended, and as mankind have approached
the state of only semi-barbarisın in which
tiey now exist, there has been an im
provement. The materia medica has been
wedded ; much that was worthless and
revolting has been thrown overboard ;
simplicity has been introduced into pre
scriptions; and the whole business of drug
ging the sick has undergone a most saluta
ry reform . The great fact has been prac
tically recognized, that the movements of
life in disease obey laws which , under the
circumstances, are on the whole salutary,
and only require a limited and occasion .
al interference by any special disturbing
agents. The list of specifics has been re
duced to a very brief catalogue, and the
delusion which had exaggerated the power
of drugging for so many generations has
been tempered down by sound and sys
tematic observation .
Homæopathy came, and with one harle
quin bound leaped out of its century
backwards into the region of quagmires
and fogs and inirages, from which true
nicdical science was painfully emerging.
All the trumpery of exploded pharma
copaias was revived under new names .
Even the domain of the loathsome has
been recently invaded , and simpletons are
told in the book before us to swallow ser .
pents' poison ; nay, it is said that the pe
diculus capitis is actually prescribed in infu
sion , -hunted down in his capillary forest,
and transterred to the digestive organs of
those he once fed upon .
It falsely alleged one axiom as the basis
of existing medical practice, namely , Con
traria contrariis curantur, — " Contraries are
cured by contraries.” No such principle
was ever acted upon, exclusively, as the
basis of medical practice. The man who
does not admit it as one of the principles
of practice would , on medical principles, re
fuse a drop of cold water to cool the tongue
of Dives in ficry torments. The only
252 Literary Notices.
unconditional principle ever recognized by
medical science has been , that diseases are
to be treated by the remedies that experi-
ence shows to be useful. The universal
use of both cold and hot external and in-
ternal remedies in various inflammatory
states puts the garrote at once on the bab-
bling throat of the senseless assertion of
the homæopathists , and stultifies for all
time the nickname “ allopathy.”
It falscly alleged a second axiom , Si-
milia simitibus curuntur , — “ Like is cured
by like ,” — as the basis of its own prac-
tice ; for it does not kcep to any such
rule, as every page of the book before
us abundantly shows.
It subjected credulous mankind to the
last of indignities, in forcing it to listen to
that doctrine of infinitesimals and poten- indirectly useful, as the older farce of the
cies which is at once the most epigram-
matic of paradoxes, and the crowning
exploit of pseudo-scientific audacity.
It proceeded to prove itself true by see through its deceptions at a glance . It
juggling statistics ; some of the most fa- may be practised by shrewd men and by
mous of which , we may remark , are very
well shown up by Professor Worthington
Hooker, in a recent essay. And having
done all these things, it sat down in the
shadow of a brazen bust of its founder,
and invited mankind to join in the Barme
cide feast it had spread on the coffin of
Science ; who, however, prored not to
have been buried in it ,-indeed , not to
have been buried at all .
Of course , it had, and has, a certain suc
cess . Its infinitesimal treatment being
a nullity , patients are never hurt by
drugs, when it is adhered to. It pleases the
imagination . It is image-worship, relic-
wearing, holy-water-sprinkling, transfer.
red from the spiritual world to that of the
body. Poets accept it ; sensitive and
spiritual women become sisters of charity
in its service. It does not oftend the pal-
ate, and so spares the nursery those scenes
of single combat in which infants were
wont to yield at length to the pressure of
the spoon and the imminence of asphyxia.
It gives the ignorant, who have such an
inveterate itch for dabbling in physic, a
book and a doll's medicine- chest, and lets
them play doctors and doctresses without
fear of having to call in the coroner. And
just so long as unskilful and untaught try can so justly complain of being con
people cannot tell coincidences from cause
and effect in medical practice ,-which to
do, the wise and experienced know how
[ December,
difficult !—so long it will have plenty of
6
“ facts " to fall back upon . Who can
blame a man for being satisfied with the
argunient, “ I was ill , and am well , -great
is Hahnemann ! ” ? Only this argument
scrves all impostoss and impositions. It is
not of much value , but it is irresistible,
and therefore quackery is immortal.
Homaopathy is one of its many phases ;
the most imaginative, the most elegant,
and , it is fair to say, the least noxious in
its direct agencies. “ It is melancholy ,”
we use the recent words of the world -hon
ored physician of the Queen's household,
Sir John Forbes, - " to be forced to make
admissions in favor of a system so utter
ly false and despicable as Homæopathy."
Yet we must own that it may have been
weapon -ointment certainly was, in teach
ing medical practitioners to place more re
liance upon nature . Most scientific men
honest ones ; rarely, it must be feared, by
those who are both slırowd and honest.
As a psychological experiment on the
weakness of cultivated minds, it is the
best trick of the century.
-Here the old gentleman took his
cane and walked out to cool himself.
FOREIGN
It is an old remark of Lessing, often re
peated , but nevertheless true , that French
men, as a general rule, are sadly deficient
in the mental powers suited to objective ob
servation, and therefore eminently disquali.
fied for reliable reports of travels. Among
the host of French writing travellers or
travelling writers, on whatever foreign
countries, there have always been very few
who looked at forcign countries, nations,
institutions, and achievements, with any .
thing like fairness of judgment and ca
pacity of understanding. For an average
Frenchman , Molière's renowned juxtapo
sition of
“ Paris, la cour, le monde, l'univers, "
is a gospel down to this day ; and no coun
stantly misunderstood and misrepresented
by French tourists as ours . The more
difficult it is for a Frenchman not to glance
1857.] Literary Notices.
through colored spectacles from the Palais
Royal at whatever does not belong to “ the
Great Nation ,” the more praise those few
of them descrve who give to the world
correct and impartial impressions of travel
and reliable ethnological works .
Such is the case with two works which
we are glad to recommend to our readers.
The first is
La Norwège, par Louis Enault. Paris :
Hachette. 1857 .
Norway , though a member of the Eu-
ropean family, with a population once so
influential in the world's history, is com-
paratively the least known of all civilized
countries to the world at large, and what
little we know of it is of a very recent
date ,-Stephens's and Leopold von Buchi's
works being not much more than a quar-
ter of a century old, while Bayard Tay.
lor's lively sketches in the “ New York
Tribune ” are almost wet still, and not
yet complete. The latter and M. Enault's
book, when compared with each other,
leave not the slightest doubt that cach
observes carcfully and conscientiously in
his own way, that both possess peculiar
gifts for studying and describing correctly
what there is worth studying and describ-
ing in this terra incognita, and that we
can rely on both . Mr. Taylor is more
picturesque , lively, fascinating, and dras-
tic ; M. Enault more thorough , quiet, and
reserved in the expression of his opinions.
The parts seem to be interchanged , —the
Frenchman exhibiting more of the Anglo-
Saxon, the American more of the French
genius ; but both confirm each other's
statements admirably, and should be read
side by side. If our readers wish to make
themselves thoroughly acquainted with
the workings of the laws and institutions,
with the statistical, economical, and gco-
graphical facts, the society and manners,
the later history and future prospects of
Norway, they will find here a work trust.
worthy in every respect.
Les Anglais et l'Inde, avec Notes , Pièces
justificatives et Tableaux statistiques,
par E. DE VALBEZEN . Paris . 1857.
This is no narrative of travel, though
evidently written by one who has been
for a considerable time al eyewitness of
253
Indian affairs, and by a man of acute
mind and quick and comprehensive per
ception, thoroughly versed in the history
and condition of India . It is a treatise on
all thosc topics bearing upon the present
political, social, and commercial state of
things there, beginning with the exposi
tion of the English governmental institu.
tions there existing, describing the coun
try, its productions and resources, its
various populations, its social relations,
its agriculture, commerce, and wealth,
and concluding with statistical and other
documents in support of the author's
statements. It gives a nearly systemati
cal and complete picture of Indian af
fairs, enabling the reader to understand
the present situation of the country and
its foreign rulers, and to form a juig.
ment on all corresponding topics. The
style is classical , though somcwhat con
cise and epigrammatic, giving proof eve
rywhere of a mind that forms its own
conclusions and takes independent, states
manlike views . The author refrains from
obtruding his own opinions on the reader,
leaving things to speak for themselves .
He is not ostensibly antagonistic to the
English , as we should expect from a true
Frenchman ,-is no cordial hater of " per.
fide Allion . ” You cannot, from his book,
with any show of reason , infer that he is a
Jesuit, a French missionary, a merchant,
a governmental employé, or a simple trav
eller ; but you feel instinctively that he is
wide-awake, shrewd, and reserved, and
that you may trust his reports in the
main . He refers, for proof of his state
ments, mostly to English documents, and
does not try to preoccupy your mind .
Particularly noteworthy is what he says
of the political economy of India ; lie con
troverts effectively the prevailing opinion
that it is the richest country in the world ,
-showing its real poverty, in spite of
its great natural resources, and the al
most hopeless task of improving these
resources . For the American merchant
this is a very readable book , warning
him to refrain from too lastily investing
his capital and enterprise in Indian com
merce , -India being the most insecure of
all countries for foreign commercial un.
dertakings ; and in general, there are so
many entirely new and startling revela
tions in it, that, to any one interested in
Indian matters, it well repays reading.
254 Literary Notices.
Histoire de la Révolution Française, ( 1789-
1799, ) par Théod . H. BARRAU. Paris :
Hachette. 1857 .
We cannot vouch that we have here a
new, original history of this important
epoch , based on an independent study of
historical sources ; but it is the very first
history of the French Revolution we have
known , not written in a partisan spirit,
and bent on falsifying the facts in order
to make political capital or to flatter na- ous topics comeeted with the notion of
tional prejudices. It bears no evidence
of any tendency whatever, -perhaps only
because, with its more than five hundred
pages, it is too short for that.
Histoire de France au XVI. Siècle, par
MichÉLET. Tom . 10. Ilenri IV. et
Richelieu .
Michélet is too well known as a truly
Republican historiographer and truly hu-
mane and noble writer, and the former
volumes of this history have been too
long before the public, to require for this
volume a particular recommendation . It
begins with the last décade of the six-
teenth century, and concludes with the
year 1626. We are no particular admir-
ers of Michélet's historical style and
method of delineation , but we acknowl.
edge his sense of historical justice, his
unprejudiced mind , and his Republican-
ism , even when treating a subject so
delicate, and so dear to Frenchmen , as
Henry IV. Doing justice to whatever
was really admirable in the character of
this much beloved king, he overthrows a
good many superstitious ideas current
concerning him even down to our days .
He shows that the Utopian , though be-
nevolent project, ascribed to Henry, of
establishing an everlasting peace by revis-
ing the map of Europe and constituting a
political equilibrium between the several
European powers, never in fact existed in
the king's mind, nor even in Sully's,
whom he equally divests of much un-
founded glory and fictitious greatness.
No doubt, but for his fickleness and in-
consistency, Henry could have done a
good deal toward realizing such ideas
and reforming European politics ; but it
is saying too much for Henry's influence
on the popular opinions of Europe, to
affirm , what Michélet gives us to under-
[ December,
stand, that he could have combined the
nations of Europe against all their de
praved rulers together.
La Liberté, par ÉMILE DE GIRARDIN.
Paris . 1857 .
This book contains a discussion be .
tween the author and M. de Lourdoueix,
ex-editor of the “ Gazette de France,"
written in the form of letters, on the vari
Liberty. Girardin is , no doubt, the most
genial of all living French writers on So
cialism and Politics. He belongs neither
to the fanatical school of Communists
and Social Equalizers by force and “ par
ordre die Mufli,” nor to the class of pliable
tools of Imperial or Royal Autocracy .
He is the only writer who, in the face of
the prevailing restrictions upon the press
in France, dares to speak out his whole
mind , and to preach the Age of Reason
in Politics and in the Social System . He
is full of new ideas, which should , we
think, be very attractive to American
readers ; and it is , indeed, strange that his
writings are so little read and reviewed
on this side of the ocean . His ideas on
general education , on the total extinc
tion of authority or government , on the
abolition of public punishments of every
kind, on the doing away with standing
armies, war, and tyranny, and on making
the State a great Assurance Company
against all imaginable misfortunes and
their consequences, are a fair index of
the best philosophemes of the European
mind since the last Revolution. We do
not say that we approve every one of his
issues and conclusions, but we insist most
earnestly, that this book and similar ones,
bearing testimony to what the political and
social thinkers of the day in Europe are
revolving in their minds, should be read
and reviewed under the light of American
institutions and ideas. The reader enjoys
in the present book the great advantage of
sceing the ideas of the Social Reformers
discussed pro and contra ,–M . Lourdoueix
being their obstinate adversary.
Mémoires de M. Joseph Prudhomme, par
HENRI MONNIER . 2 vois. Paris . 1857.
This is not what is commonly called
mémoires,-to wit, historical recollections
1857.] Literary Notices.
modified by the subjective impressions of
eyewitnesses to the past ; it is rather a
novel or romance in the form of me.
moires, ridiculing the predominant bour-
geoisie of the Old World, and sketching
the whole life of a bourgeois, from infancy
to green old age. For readers, who,
through travel in Europe and acquain-
tance with French literature and tastes,
are cnabled to understand the many nice
allusions contained in this novel, it is a
very entertaining book .
1. Kraft und Stof: By G. BÜCHNER.
Fourth edition . 1857 .
2. Materic und Geist. By the same. 1857 .
It is certainly a remarkable sign of
the times, that a book treating of purely
scientific matters, -physiological facts and
ideas, - like the first of these , of which
the second is the complement, should in
a very few years have attained to its
fourth edition in Gerniany. All those
works on Natural Science, by Alexander
von Humboldt, Oersted, Du Bois-Ray.
mond , Cotta , Vogt, Moleschott, Büchner,
Rossmässler, Ule, Müller, and others,
which have appeared since the Revolu-
tion of 1848, uniting a more popular and
intelligible style with a purely scientific
treatment of the matter-of-fact , irrespec.
tive of the religious and political dogmas
that conflict with the results of natural
science, have met with decided success
in Germany and France. They are ex-
tensively read and appreciated, even by
the less educated and learned classes .
Among these works, that of Büchner
ranks high , and it is therefore strange
that we have seen it hitherto reviewed in
no American journal. This may serve us
as an excuse for noticing this fourth edi.
tion , though it is little improved over the
former ones. It exhibits the last results
of the science of physiology, in a scien
tific, but rather popular method of exposi-
tion . There is quite a hive of new ideas
and intuitions contained in it,-ideas con
flicting, it is true , with many received
dogmas, and irreconcilable with ortho-
doxy ; but it is of no use to shut our
eyes to these ideas, as though the danger
threatening from this side could be avert-
ed by imitating the policy of the ostrich .
They should be faced and examined ; the
danger is for greater from ignoring them .
It is impossible that ideas, largely cnter-
255
tained and cultivated by a nation so ex
pert in thinking, so versed in science and
literature as the Germans, should have
no interest for the great, intelligent Amer
ican public. Natural Science may be said
to form , at present, an integral portion of
the religion of the Germans. It is, at least,
a matter of ethnological and historical in
terest to learn in what regions of thought
and speculation our German contempora
ries are at home, and wherein they find
their mental happiness and delight.
Die deutsche komische und humoristische
Dichtung seil Beginn des 16. Jahrhunderts
bis auf unsere Zeit. Von IGNAZ HUB.
Nürnberg : Ebner. 1857 .
Two volumes of this interesting work
are coming out at the same time,- one
containing the second of the five parts
into which the prose anthology is di
vided, with comical and humorous pieces
from the sixteenth century , ( for instance,
extracts from “ Fortunatus," the “ Histo
ria ” of Dr. J. Faust, " Die Schildbürger, "
Desid. Erasmus's “ Gespräche, ” etc., )
the other containing a collection of poetry
of the same kind, belonging to the pres
ent century , and forming part of the third
volume, with pieces by Uhland , Eich
endorff, Rückert, Sapphir, Wm . Müller,
Immermann , Palten , Hoffmann , Kopisch ,
Heine, Lenau, Möricke, Grün, Wack
crnagel , and many others. The anthol.
ogy is accompanied with biographical
and historical notes, and explanations of
provincialisms and such words as to the
American reader of German would be
likely to be otherwise unintelligible ; so
that he may thus, without too much
trouble, satisfactorily enjoy this treasury
of entertainment. The Germans may
well be proud of such literary riches, in
which England alonc surpasses them.
Thuringer Naturen, Charakter -und Sitten
bilder in Erzählungen. Von Otto LUD
WIG . Erster Band. Die Heiterethei und
ihr Widerspiel. Frankfurt. 1857.
This is one of the numerous imitations
of the celebrated “ Dorfgeschichten , ” by
Berthold Auerbach. The latter intro
duced , in a time of literary poverty, a
wide range of new subjects for epical
treatment the life of German peasants,
with their simple , healthy, vigorous na
tures undepraved by a spurious civiliza
256 Literary Notices.
tion . In painting these sinewy figures, full
of a character of their own , he was very
felicitous, had an enormous success , and
drew a host of less gifted followers after
him . Herr Ludwig is one of these . We
shall not despair of his becoming, at some
future time, a second Auerbach ; but he
is not one yet. There is, in this work ,
too much spreading out and extenua
tion of a material which , in itself not
very rich and varied , requires great skill
to mould into an « pic form . But the au-
thor has a remarkable power of drawing
true, lifelike characters, and developing
them psychologically. It is refreshing to
see that the German literary taste is be
coming gradually more realistic, pure ,
and natural, turning its back on the ro-
mantic school of the French .
May Carols. By AUBREY DE VERE. Lon-
don . 18:57.
Tue name of Aubrey de Vere has for
some years past been familiar to the lovers
of poctry, as that of a scholarly and genial
poet. Ilis successive volumes have shown
a steady growth in poetic power and cle-
vation of spirit . While gaining a firmer
mastery over the instruments of poetry
he has struck from them a deeper, fuller,
and more significant tone. In this his
last volume, which has lately appeared ,
his verse is brought completely into the
service of the Church . The “ May Carols ”
are poems celebrating the Virgin Mary
in her month of May . For that month,
and for the Roman church , Mr. De Vere
has done in this volume what Keble did
for the festivals of the year, and the Eng
lish church , in his “ Christian Ycar . "
Catholicism in England has produced no
poet since the days of Crashaw so sincere
in his picty , so sweet in his melody,
80 pure in spirit as De Vere. And the
volume is not for Roman Catholic readers
alone. Others may be touched by its
religious fervor, and charmed with its
beauties of description or of feeling. It is
full and redolent of spring. The sweet
ness of the May air flows through many
of its verses, -of that season when
Trees, that from winter's gray eclipse
Of late but pushed their topmost plume,
Or felt with green -touched finger- tips
For spring, their perfect robes assuine .
[ December.
While, vaguc no more, the mountains stand
With quivering line or hazy hue ;
But drawn with finer, firiner, hand,
And settling into decper blue.
Mr. De Vere is an exquisite student
of nature, with fine perceptions that have
been finely cultivated . Take this picture
of the lark :
From his cold nest the skylark springs ;
Sings, pauses, sings; shoots up anew ;
Attains his topmost height, and sings
Quiescent in his vault of Wue.
And here is a description of the later
spring :
Brow -bound with myrtle and with gold,
Spring, sacred now from blasts and blights,
Liſts in a firm , wtrembling holu
Her chalice of fulfilled delights.
Confirmed around her queenly lip
Thic smile late w : vering, on she moves ;
And seems through deepening tides to step
Of steadier joys and larger loves.
The little volume contains many passa
ges such as these. We have space to quote
but one of the poems complete, to show
the manner in which Mr. De Verc unites
the real, the symbolic, and the external,
with the spiritual . Like most of his
poems, it is marked by artistic finish and
grace, and many of the lines have a natu
ral beauty of unsought alliteration and
assonance .
When all the breathless woods aloof
Lie hushed in noontide's deep repose,
The dove, sun -warned on yonder roof,
With what a grave content she coos !
One note for her ! Deep streams run smooth :
The ecstatic song of transience tells.
O, what a depth of loving truth
In thy divine contentment dwells !
All day with down -dropt lids I sat
In trance; the present scene foregone.
When llesper rose, on Ararat,
Dlethought, not English hills, he shone.
Back to the Ark, the waters o'er,
The primal dove pursued her flight:
A branch of that blest tree she bore
Which feeds the Church with holy light.
I heard her rustling through the air
With sliding plume,-no sound beside,
Save the sea-sobbings everywhere,
And sighs of the subsiding tide.
 THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE , ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL. I. — JANUARY, 1858.—NO. II .

NOTES ON DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE.

If building many houses could teach haps we should rather say knowing and
us to build them well, surely we ought to unscrupulous. All that is demanded of
excel in this matter. Never was there a house is, that it should be of an “ im
such a house-building people. In other proved style," or at least something
countries the laws interfere -
, or customs, different." Nothing will excuse it, if
traditions, and circumstances as strong old- fashioned ,-- and hardly anything con
as laws; either capital is wanting, or the demn it, if it have novelty enough.
possession of land, or there are already And this latitude is not confined to the
houses enough. If a man inherit a owner's scheme of his house , but ex
house, he is not likely to build another, - tends also to the executive department.
nor if he inherit nothing but a place in In other countries, however extravagant
an inevitable line of lifelong hand -to- your fancy, you are brought within some
mouth toil. In such countries houses bounds when you come to carry it out;
are built wholesale by capitalists, and for the architect and the builder have
only by a small minority for themselves. been trained to certain rules and forms,
And where the man inherits no house, and these will enter into all they do.
he at least inherits the traditional pattern But here every man is an architect who
of one, or the nature of the soil decides can handle a T -square, and every man a
the main points ; as you cannot build of builder who can use a plane or a trowel;
brick where there is no clay, nor of and the chances are that the owner
wood where there are no forests. But thinks he can do all as well as either of
here every man builds a house for him- them. For if every man in England
self, and every one freely according to thinks he can write , a leading article,
his whims. Many materials are nearly much more every Yankee thinks he can
equally cheap, and all styles and ways build a house. Never was such freedom
of building equally open to us ; at least from the rule of tradition . A fair field
the general appearance of most should and no favor; whatever that can accom
be known to us, for we have tried plish we shall have.
nearly all. Our public opinion is singu- The result, it must be confessed, is not
larly impartial and cosmopolitan, or per- gratifying. For if you sometimes find a.
VOL. I. 17
258 Notes on Domestic Architecture. [ January,
man who is satisfied with his own house, Pseudo-Classic , or the studied rusticity
yet his neighbors sneer at it, and he at of Germany,—but such as seem to have
his neighbors' houses. And even with grown of themselves out of the place
himself it does not usually wear well. where they stand ,-Swiss châlets, Mexi
The common case is that even he ac- can or Manila plantation -houses, Italian
cepts it as a confessed failure, or at best farm -houses, built, nobody knows when or
a compromise. And if he does not con- by whom , and built without any thought
fess the failure, (for association, pride, of attracting attention. And bere I think
use -and -wont reconcile one to much,) we get a hint as to the reason of their
the house confesses it. For what else success . For a house is not a monu
but self -confessed failures are these thin ment, that it should seek to draw atten
wooden or cheap brick walls, temporari- tion to itself,—but the dwelling -place of
ly disguised as massive stone,—this roof, men upon the carth ; and it must show it
leaking from the snow-bank retained by self to be wholly secondary to its purpose.
the Gothic parapet, or the insufficient We have had a good deal of exhorta
slope which the “ Italian style ” de- tion lately, now getting rather weari
mands ? some, about avoiding pretence in archi
There is no lack of endeavor to make tecture, and that we should let things
the house look well. People will sacri- show for what they are . The avoidance
fice almost anything to that. They will of pretence should begin farther back.
stive their chambers into the roof,—they If the house all pretence , we shall
will have windows where they do not not help it by “ frankness of treatment ”
want them , or leave them out where in details.
they do,-in our tropical summers they The house is the sign of man's enter
will endure the glarc and heat of the ing into possession of the earth . A
sun, rather than that blinds should inter- houseless savage, living on wild game
fere with the moulded window -caps, or and accidental fruits, is an alien in na
with the style generally ,—they will break ture, or a minor not yet come to his
up the outline with useless and expen- estate. As soon as he begins to cultivate
sive irregularity , -- they will have brack- the soil he builds him a house,-no long
ets that support nothing, and balconies er a hut or a cava but the work of his
and look -outs upon which no one ever own hands, and as permanent as bis ten
steps after the carpenter leaves them ,- ure of the cultivated field . If that is to
all for the sake of pleasing the eye. descend to his children, the house must
And all this without any real and lasting be so built as to endure accordingly. It
success, —with a success, indeed, that is the material expression of the status of
seems often in an inverse ratio to the the family , —such people in such a place.
effort. If a man have a pig-stye to Hence the two-fold requirement of fit
build, or a log-house in the woods, he ness for its use and of harmony with its
may hit upon an agreeable outline ; but surroundings. A log-house is the appro
priate dwelling of the lumberer in the
let him set out freely and with all delib-
eration to build something that shall be woods; but transplant it to a suburban
beautiful , and he fails. lawn and it becomes an absurdity, and a
Not that the failure is peculiar at all double absurdity. It is not in harmony
to us. In Europe there may, perhaps, with the place, nor fit for the use of the
lic less bad taste , —though I am not citizen. Nothing more satisfactory in
sure of that; but there, and every- their place than the old English parish
where, I think , the memorable houses, churches; but transfer one of them from
among those of recent date, are not its natural atmosphere and surroundings
those carefully elaborated for effect, —the to the midst of one of our raw villages
premeditated irregularity of the English or bustling cities, exposed to the sudden
Gothic, the trig regularity of the French and violent changes of our climate, —the
1858.] Notes on Domestic Architecture. 259

open timber roof admitting the heat and rally just as fixed a quantity as the kind
the cold, and the stone walls bedewed and the amount of his possessions, and
with condensed moisture ,—and after the no more so . The style of it, depending
first pleasant impression of the moment on the inherited ideas of the class to
is over, there is left only a painful feel- which he belongs, will be as formed and
ing of mimicry, not to be removed by any as fixed as that class. Then where there
precision of copying, nor by the feeble is no fixed class, and where the property
attempts at ivy in the corners. of every man is constantly varying, our
This is all evident enough, and in quantity will be just so variable, and the
principle generally admitted ; but we true type of our architecture will be the
dodge the application of the principle, tent, of the frame-and -clapboard vari
because we are not ready to admit to ety suited to the climate.
ourselves, what history, apart from any For good architecture, then, we need
reasoning, would show us, that these im- castes in society, and fixed ways of liv
portations are failures, and that not ing. We see the effect in the old par
accidentally in these particular cases, sonages in England, where from year to
leaving the hope of better success for year have dwelt men of the same class,
the next trial, but necessarily, and be- education , income, tastes, and circum
cause they are importations. stances generally, and so bringing from
All good architecture must be the generation to generation nearly the
gradual growth of its country and its same requirements, with the unessential
age,—the accumulation of men's experi- changes brought in from time to time
ence, adding and leaving out from gen- by new wants or individual fancies, here
eration to generation. The air of per- and there putting out a bay-window or
manence and stability that we admire in adding a wing, but always in the spirit
it must be gained by a slow and solid of the original building, and the whole
growth. It is the product, not of any getting cach year more weather -stained
one man's skill, but of a nation's ; and and ivy -grown, and so toned into more
its type, accordingly, must be gradually complete harmony with the landscape,
formed . yet still living and expansive.
But in this, as in everything else, there It may be said that the result is here
must be an aim , and one persisted in, a partly accidental one, and not a mat
else no experience is gained. A mere ter of art. But domestic architecture is
succession of generations will do nothing, only half-way a fine art. It does not
if for each of them the whole problem aim at a beauty of the monumental kind,
is changed. The man of to-day cannot as a statue, a triumphal arch , or even a
profit by his father's experience in the temple does. Its primary aim is shelter,
building of his house, if his culture, his to house man in nature, -and it forms,
habits, his associates, are different from as it were , the connecting link between
bis father's,—much less if they have him and the outward world. Its results,
changed since his own youth, and are therefore, are partly the free artistic pro
changing from year to year. He will duction, and partly retain unmodified
not imitate, he will not forbear to alter. their material character. In the image
On such shifting sands no enduring carved by the sculptor, the stone or wood
structure is possible, but only a tent for used derive little of their effect from the
the night. original material ; the important charac
We talk of the laws of architecture ; ter is that imparted to them by his skill.
but the fundamental law of all, and one Still more the canvas and pigments of
that is sure to be obeyed, is, that the the painter. But in architecture the
dwelling shall typify man's appropriation wood and stone still fulfil the offices of
of the earth and its products,—what we covering, connecting, and supporting, as
call property. A man's house is natu- they did in the tree and the quarry, and
260 Notes on Domestic Architecture. [ January,
their physical properties play an essen- And it attacks the owner, too ; he must
tial part in the work . The house, there- conform , in his dress, his equipage, and
fore, is a work of art only half emanci-
> his habits generally ; he must be as fine
pated from nature, and must depend on as his house . The nicer bis taste the
nature for much of its beauty also. It more any incongruity will offend him ,
must not be isolated, as something mere- and the greater the danger of his be
ly to be looked at, apart from its position coming more or less an appendage to his
and its material use . house .
The common mistake in our houses is, Much of that chronic ailment of our
66
that they are designed, as inexperienced society, the trials of housekeeping," is
persons choose their paper-hangings, to traceable to this source . This is a com
be something of themselves, and not as plicated trouble, and probably other
mere background, as they should be. causes have their share in it. But we
Thus it is that people seek to beautify cannot fail to recognize in these seem
their houses by ornamenting them , as a ingly accidental obstructions a stern , but
vulgar person sticks himself over with beneficent adjustment of our circum
jewelry. A man's house is only a wider stances to enforce a simplicity which we
kind of dress ; and as we do not call a should else neglect. One cannot greatly
man well-dressed when we are forced to deprecate the terrors of high rents and
see his dress before we see him, so a long bills, and the sufferings from clumsy
house cannot be satisfactory when it and careless domestics, if they help to
isolates itself from its inmates and from keep down senseless profusion and dis
the landscape. In such houses, the more play.
effort the worse they are ; they may Our problem is, in truth , one of greater
cheat us for the moment, but the oftener difficulty than at first appears. For we
we see them the less we like them . are each of us striving to do, by the
Does not the uncomfortable sensation skill and forethought of one man, what
with which fine houses so often oppress naturally accomplishes itself in a suc
us arise from the vague feeling that the cession of generations and with the aid
owner has built himself out of bis house, of circumstances. It is from our free
and his house out of the landscape ? dom that the trouble arises. Were our
Ilence it is mostly the novices that society composed of few classes, widely
build the fine houses. A man of sense, and permanently distinct, a fitting style
I think, will generally build ! is second for each would naturally arise and be
house plainer than his first. Not that he come established and perfected. There
desires, perhaps, any the less what he would be fewer occasions for new houses,
desired before, but he is more alive to and the new house would be less novel
the difficulties and to the cost, and takes in style, and so two difficulties would be
refuge in the safety of a lower scale. overcome . For novelty of style is a
His experience has taught him that drawback to effect, as tending to isolate
where he succeeded best he was really the house ; and a new house is always
farthest from the end he sought. The at a disadvantage. Nature, in any case,
fine house requires that its accessories is slow to adopt our handiwork into the
should be in kind. All things within landscape ; sometimes the assimilation is
and without, the approach, the grounds, so difficult that it must be ruined for its
the furniture, must be brought up to the original purpose before it will be ac
same pitch, and kept there. And when cepted. Sooner or later, indeed, it will
all is done, it is not done, but forever be accepted. For though most of our
demands retouching. What is got in buildings scem even in decay to resist
this kind cannot be paid for with money, the harmonizing hand of Nature, and to
nor finished once for all, but is a never- grow only ghastly and not venerable in
sated absorbent of time, thought, life. dilapidation, yet leave them long enough
1858.) Notes on Domestic Architecture. 261

and what of beauty was possible to them but rather, like the shell- fish of our
will appear, though it be only a crum- beaches, free to travel up and down with
bling heap of bricks where the chimney the tide.
stood, or the grassy slope where the cel- The imitating of foreign examples
lar-wall has fallen in. comes from no real, heart-felt demand,
It is for this reason that persons of but only from a fancied or simulated
taste have taken pains to face their demand,—from tradition, association ; at
houses with weather -stained and lichen- second -hand in one shape or another.
crusted stone, or invent proper names It is at bottom something of the same
for them, in imitation of the English funkeyism that in a more exaggerated
manor-houses. But Nature is jealous of form assumes heraldic bearings and puts
this helping, and neither the lichens nor its servants into livery.
the names will stick , for the reason that It may well reconcile us to our depri
they never grew there. They cannot be vation to remember at what cost these
naturalized without naturalizing their things we admire are established and
conditions. The gray ancestral houses kept up. The imagination is pleased
of England are the beautiful symbols of with this stability ; but it is bought too
the perinanence of family and of caste. dear, if progress is to be sacrificed to it,
They are the embodiments of tradition- if the freedom and the true lives of the
al institutions and culture. When we members are to be merged in the fam
speak of the House of Stanley or of ily, and if they are to be the stones of
Howard, the expression is not wholly which the house is built. It is not de
figurative. We do not mean simply the sirable to be adscriptus glebæ, whether
men and women of these families, but the bonds be physical or only moral
the whole complex of this manifold en ones . We may well be content to have
vironment which has descended to them our limits free, even though our archi
and in the midst of which they have tecture suffer for it. It is better that
grown up,—no more to be separated houses should belong to men, and not
from it than the polyp from the coral- men to houses.
stem . All this is centralized and has its But whether we are content or not, it
expression in the House. is evident that all hope of improvement
Now as these conditions are not our lies in the tendency, somewhat noticeable
conditions, the attempt to build fine of late, to the abnegation of exotic styles
houses is an attempt to import an effect and graces. We have survived the Par
where the cause has not existed . Our thenon pattern, and there seems to be
position is that of a perpetually shifting a prospect that we shall outlive the
population , —the mass shifting and the Gothic cottage. Even the Anglo -Italian
individuals shifting, in place, circum- bracketed villa has seen its palmiest
stances, requirements. The movement days apparently, and exhausted most of .

is inevitable, and, whether desirable or its variations. We are in an extremely

not, we must conform to it. So we nat- chaotic state just now ; but there seems
urally build cheaply and slightly, that to be an inclination towards more ra
the house be not an incumbrance rath- tional ways, at least in the plans and
er than a furtherance to our life. It is general arrangement of houses.
agreeable to the feelings to be well root- Of course mere negation cannot carry
ed and established, and the results in out- us far. We sometimes hear it said that
ward appearance are agrecable. But it is as easy for a house to look well as to
it is not desirable to be so niched into look ill, and those who say this seem to
the rock , that a change of fortune, or think that the failure is due solely to
even a change in the direction of a want of due consideration of the prob
town -road, shall leave us high and dry, lem on the part of our builders, and
like the fossils of the Norwegian cliffs, that we have but to leave out their blun
262 Notes on Domestic Architecture. [ January,
ders to get at a satisfactory result. But something that shall forever remain a
if we look at the facts of the case, we blot in the landscape.
find the builders have some reason on Evidently it is not merely a more com
their side. mon -sense treatment that we want ; for
Nothing can be more unsightly than here is sufficient simplicity, but a sim
the stalky, staring houses of our villages, plicity barren of all satisfaction . And
with their plain gable -roofs, of a pitch singularly enough, it seems, with all its
neither high enough nor low enough for meagreness, to pass easily into an osten
beauty, and disfigured, moreover, by mere tatious display. In these houses there is
excrescences of attic windows, and over no thought of "architecture ” ; that is
the whole structure the awkward angu- considered as something quite apart, and
larity, and the look of barren , mindless not essential to the well-building of the
conformity and uniformity in the general house. But for this very reason matters
outlines, and the meagre, frittered effect are not much changed when the owner
inherent in the material. But when we determines to spend something for looks.
come to build, we find that the block . The house remains at bottom the same
heads who invented this style, or no- rude mass , with the “ architecture ” tack
style, have got at the cheapest way of ed on . It is not that the owner bas any
supplying the first imperative demands deeper or different sentiment towards his
of the people for whom they build , — dwelling, but merely that he has a desire
namely, to be walled in and roofed to make a flourish before the eyes of be
weather-tight, and with a decent neat- holders. There is no heartfelt interest in
ness, but without much care that the all this on his part; it gives him no pleas
house should be solid and enduring, – ure ; bow, then, should it please the spec
for it cannot well be so flimsy as not tator ? The case is the same, whether it
to outlast the owner's needs. He does be the coarse ornamentation of the cheap
not look to it as the habitation of his cottage, or the work of the fashionable
children, -hardly as his own for his life- architect; we feel that the decoration is
time, -- but as a present shelter, easily superficial and may be dispensed with,
and quickly got ready, and as easily and then, however skilful, it becomes su
plucked up and carried off again. The perfluous. The more elaborate the worse,
common -law of England looks upon a for attention is the more drawn to the
house as real estate, as part of the soil; failure.
but with us it is hardly a fixture. What is wanted for any real progress
Surely nothing can be more simple is not so much a greater skill in our
and common sense than an ordinary house -builders, as more thoughtful con
New England house, but at the same sideration on the part of the house -own
time nothing can be uglier. The out- ers of what truly interests them in the
line, the material, the color and texture house . We do not stop to examine
of the surface are at all points opposed what really weighs with us, but on some
to breadth of effect or harmony with the fancied necessity hasten to do superflu
surroundings. There is neither mass ous things. What is it that we really
nor elegance ; there are no lines of care for in the building of our houses ?
union with the ground ; the meagre Is it not, that,like dress, or manners, they
monotony of the lines of shingles and should facilitate, and not impede the busi
clapboards making subdivisions too small ness of life ? We do not wish to be com
to be impressive, and too large to be pelled to think of them by themselves
overlooked ,-and finally, the paint, of either as good or bad, but to get rid of
which the outside really consists, thrust- any obstruction from them . They are
ing forward its chalky blankness, as it to be lived in, not looked at ; and their
were a standing defiance of all possibil- beauty must grow as naturally from their
ity of assimilation , -all combine to form use as the flower from its stem, so that it
1858.] Maya, the Princess. 263

shall not be possible to say where the that we are pleased with what has been
one ends and the other begins. Not pleasing to other nations and under
that beauty will come of itself ; there other circumstances. Our poverty, if
must be the feeling to be satisfied before poverty it be, is not disgraceful, until we
any satisfaction will come. But we shall attempt to conceal it by our affectation
not help it by pretending the feeling, nor of foreign airs and graces.
by trying to persuade others or ourselves

MAYA, THE PRINCESS.

The sea floated its foam -caps upon years ; at forty, for twenty ; and all died
the gray shore, and murmured its inartic- before fifty, which made much confusion
ulate love-stories all day to the dumb in dates,-especially when some women
rocks above ; the blue sky was bordered were called upon to tell traditions, the
with saffron sunrises, pink sunsets, silver only sort of history endured in that king
moon - fringes, or spangled with careless dom ; because it was against the law to
stars ; the air was full of south -winds write either lies or romances, though you
that had fluttered the hearts of a thou- might hear and tell them , if you would,
sand roses and a million violets with and some people would ; although to call
long, deep kisses, and then flung the del- a man a historian there was the same
icate odors abroad to tell their exploits, thing as to say, “ You lie ! ” here.
and set the butterflies mad with jealousy, But as I was saying, this evergreen
and the bees crazy with avarice. And way into which the women fell caused
all this bloom was upon the country of much trouble, and the Twelve Sages
Larrièrepensée, when Qucen Lura's lit- made a law that for six hundred years
the daughter came to life in the Topaz every female child born in any month
Palace that stood on Sunrise Hills, and of the seventy -two hundred following
was King Joconde's summer pavilion. should be named by the name ordained
Now there was no searching far and. for that month ; and then they made a
wide for godfathers, godmothers, and a long list, containing seventy- two hundred
name, as there is when the princesses names of women , and locked it up in
of this world are born : for, in the first the box of Great Designs, which stood
place, Larrièrepensée was a country of always under the king's throne; and
pious heathen, and full of fairies; the thenceforward, at the beginning of every
people worshipped an Idea, and invited month, the Twelve Sages unlocked the
the fairy folk to all their parties, as we box, consulted the paper, and sent a
who are proper here invite the clergy ; herald through the town to proclaim the
only the fairy folk did not get behind the girl-name for that month. So this saved
door, or leave the room , when dancing a world of trouble ; for if some wrinkled
commenced . old maid should say, “ And that hap
And the reason why this princess was pened long ago, some time before I was
born to a name, as well as to a kingdom , born ,” all her gossips laughed, and cried
was, that, long ago, the people who kept out, “ Ho ! bo ! there's a historian ! do
records in Larrièrepensée were much we not all know you were a born Allia,
troubled by the ladies of that land never ten years before that date ? ” — and then
growing old : they staid at thirty for ten the old maid was put to shame.
264 Maya, the Princess. [ January,
Now it bappened well for Queen fine name, like Rose -dew, or Tears-of
Lura's lovely daughter, that on her birth- Flax, and then Queen Lura drank it
month was written the gracious name of down nicely ; - so much depends on
Maya, for it seemed well to fit her grace names, even in Larrièrepensée !
and delicacy, while but few in that coun- But as Mrs. Lita set away the glass,
try knew its sad Oriental depth, or that the bees upon the ceiling began to buzz
it had any meaning at all. in a most angry manner, and rally about
It was all one flush of dawn upon Sun- the queen -bee ; the south-wind cried
rise Hills, when the maids-of-honor, in round the palace corner ; and a strange
curls and white frocks, began to strew light, like the sun shining when it rains,
the great Hall ofAmethyst with geranium threw a lurid glow over the graceful
leaves, and arrange light tripods of gold fairy forms. Then the door of the hall
for the fairies, who were that day gath- flung open, and a beautiful, wrathful
ered from all Larrièrepensée to see and shape crossed the threshold ;-it was the
gift the new princess. The Queen had Fairy Anima. Where she gathered the
written notes to them on spicy magnolia- gauzes that made her rainbow vest, or
petals, and now the head -nurse and the the water-diamonds that gemmed her
grand -equerry wheeled her couch of state night-black hair, or the sun -fringed cloud
into the Hall of Amethyst, that she might of purple that was her robe, no fay
receive the tender wishes of the good or mortal knew ; but they knew well the
fairies, while yet the sweet languor of her power of her presence, and grew pale
motherhood kept her from the fresh wind at her anger.
and bright dew out of doors. With swift feet she neared the couch
The couch of state was fashioned like a of state, but her steps lingered as she
great rose of crimson velvet ; only where saw within those crimson leaves the deli
there should have been the gold anthers cate, fear- pale face of the Queen, and
of the flower lay the lovely Queen, wrap- her sleeping child .
66
ped in a mantle of canary -birds' down, Always rose-folded !” she murmured ,
and nested on one arm slept the Child " and I tread the winds abroad ! A fair
of the Kingdom , Maya. Presently a bud, and I am but a stately stem ! You
cloud of honey -bees swept through the were foolish and frail, Queen Lura , that
wide windows, and settling upon the you sent me no word of your harvest
ceiling began a murmurous song, when, time; now I come angry . Show me the
one by one, the flower-fairies entered, child ! ”
and fitting to their tripods, each gar- . Mrs. Lita, with awed steps, drew near,
landed with her own blossom , awaited and lifted the baby in her arms, and the
the coming of their Head,—the Fairy child's soft hazel eyes looked with grave
Cordis. innocence at Anima. Truly, the Princess
As the Queen perceived their delay, a was a lovely piece of nature : her hair,
sudden pang crossed her pale and tran- like fine silk, fell in dark, yet gilded
quil brow. tresses from her snow -white brow ; her
G
“ Ah ! ” said she, to the nurse-in -chief, eyes were thoughtless, tender, serene ;
Mrs. Lita, “ my poor baby, Maya! What her lips red as the heart of a peach ; her
have I done ? I have neglected to ask skin so fair that it seemed stained with
the Fairy Anima, and now she will come violets where the blue veins (rept live
in anger, and give my child an evil gift, ingly beneath ; and her dimpled cheeks
unless Cordis hastens ! " were flushed with sleep like the sunset
“ Do not fear, Madam ! ” said Mrs. sky.
Lita, “ your nerves are weak ,-take a Anima looked at the baby.—" Ah ! too
little cordial.” much, too much ! ” said she. " Queen
So she gave the Queen a red glass full Lura, a butterfly can eat honey only ; let
of honeybell whiskey; but she called it a us have a higher life for the Princess of
1858.] Maya, the Princess. 265

Larrièrepensée. Maya, I give thee for all because the Spark should gift her
a birth -gift another crown. Receive the with every one of these, and burn the
Spark ! " gift in deeply. So they all dropped and
Queen Lura shrieked ; but Anima died ; and she could never know the
stretching out her wand, a snake of black flowers of life,-only its fires.
-

diamonds, with a blood -red head, touched But in the end of all this flight came
the child's eyes, and from the serpent's a ray of consolation , like the star that her
rapid tongue a spark of fire darted into alds dawn, springing upward on the skirt
either eye, and sunk deeper and deeper, of night's blackest hour. The raging bees
--for two tears flowed above, and hung that had swarmed upon the golden chan
on Maya's silky lashes, as she looked with delier returned to the ceiling and their
a preternatural expression of reproach at song ; the scattered flowers revived and
the Fairy. scented the air : for the Fairy Cordis
Now all was confusion. Queen Lura came,—too late, but welcome; her face
tried to faint, she knew it was proper, bright with flushes of vivid , but uncer
—and the grand -equerry rang all the tain rose ,-her deep gray eyes brimming
palace bells in a row . Anima gave no with motherhood, a sister's fondness, and
glance at the little Princess, who still sat the ardor of a child. The tenderest
upright in Mrs. Lita's petrified arms, but garden -spider-webs made her a robe, full
went proudly from the hall alone. of little common blue-eyed flowers, and
The flower-fairies dropped their wandsin her gold -brown hair rested a light cir
with one sonorous clang upon the floor, cle of such blooms as beguile the winter
and with bitter sighs and wringing hands days of the poor and the desolate, and
fitted one after another to the portal, put forth their sweetest buds by the gar
bewailing, as they went, their wasted gifts ret window , or the bedside of a sick
and powers. man .

Why should I give her beauty ? " Mrs. Lita nearly dropped the baby,
cried the Fairy Rose ; “ all eyes will be in her great relief of mind; but Cordis
dazzled with the Spark ; who will know caught it, and looked at its brilliant face
»
on what form it shines ? ” with tears.
So the red rose dropped and died . “ Ah, Head of the Fairies, help me ! ”
“ Why should I bring her innocence ? ” murmured Queen Lura, extending her
said the Fairy Lily ; "the Spark will arms toward Cordis ; for she had kept
burn all evil from her, thought and one eye open wide enough to see what
deed ! ” would happen while she fainted away.
Then the white lily dropped and died . “All I can , I will,” said the kindly
“ Is there any use to her in grace ? ” fairy, speaking in the same key that a
wept the Fairy Eglantine; “ the Spark lark sings in. So she sat down upon a
will melt away all mortal grossness, till white velvet mushroom and fell to think
she is light and graceful as the clouds ing, while Maya, the Princess, looked at
above . " her from the rose where she lay, and the
And the eglantine wreathsdropped Queen, having pushed her down robe
and died . safely out of the way, leaned her head
"

“ She will never want humility,” said on her hand, and very properly cried as
the Fairy Violet ; “ for she will find too much as six tears.
soon that the Spark is a curse as well Soon, like a sunbeam , Cordis looked
as a crown ! ” up. “ I can give the Princess a counter
»
So the violet dropped and died. charm , Qucen Lura, " said she , — “ but it
Then the Sun -dew denied her pity ; is not sure. Look you ! she will have a
the blue Forget -me-not, constancy ; the lonely life,-for the Spark burns, as well
Iris, pride ; the Butter -cup, gold ; the as shines, and the only way to mend that
Passion -flower, love;the Amaranth, hope : matter is to give the fire better fuel than
266 Maya, the Princess. [ January,
herself. For some long years yet, she Then the Fairy Cordis drew from her
must keep herself in peace and the delicate finger a ring of twisted gold, in
sbaile ; but when she is a woman , and which was set an opal wrought into the
the Spark can no more be hidden , -since shape of a heart, and in it palpitated,
to be a woman is to have power and like throbbing blood , one scarlet flash of
pain , —then let her veil herself, and with flame.
a staff and scrip go abroad into the “Let her keep this always on her
world, for her time is come. Now in hand ," said Cordis. “ It will serve to test
this kingdom of Larrièrepensée there the truth of the fire she strives to kindle ;
stand many houses, all empty, but swept for if it be not true wood, this heart will
and garnished, and a fire laid ready on grow cold, the throb cease , the glow be
the hearth for the hand of the Coming come dim. The talisman may, will, save
to kindle. But sometimes, nay, often, ber, unless in the madness of joy she
this fire is a cheat : for there be men forget to ask its aid, or the Spark fash
who carve the semblance of it in stone, ing upon its surface seems to create
and are so content to have the chill for anew the fire within, and thus deceives
the blaze all their lives ; and on some ber.”
hearths the logs are green wood, set up So the Fairy put the ring upon Queen
before their time; and on some they are Lura's hand, and kissed Maya's fair
but ashes, for the fire has burned and brow , already shaded with sleep. The
died, and left the ghostly shape of boughs bees upon the ceiling followed her, drop
behind ; and sometimes, again , they are ping honey as they went ; the maids-of
but icicles clothed in bark, to save the honor wheeled away the couch of state ;
shame of the possessor. But there are the castle-maids swept up the fading
some hearths laid with dry and goodly leaves and blossoms, drew the tulip -tree
timber; and if the Princess Maya does curtains down, fastened the great door
not fail, but chooses a real and honest with a sandal-wood bar, sprinkled the
heap of wood, and kindles it from the corridors with rosewater ; and by moon
Spark within her, then will she bave a rise, when the nightingales sung loud
most perfect life ; for the fire that con- from the laurel thickets, all the country
sumes her shall leave its evil work, and slept, -even Maya ; but the Spark burn
make the light and warmth of a house- ed bright, and she dreamed .
hold, and rescue her forever from the So the night came on, and many an
accursed crown of the Spark. But I other night, and many a new day,- till
grieve to tell you, yet one of my name Maya, grown a girl, looked onward to
cannot lie - if the Princess mistake the the life before her with strange forebod
false for the true, if she flashes her fire ing, for still the Spark burned .
upon stone, or ice, or embers, either the Hitherto it had been but a glad light
Spark will recoil and burn her to ashes, on all things, except men and women ;
or it will die where she placed it and for into their souls the Spark looked too
turn her to stone, or - worst fate of all, far, and Maya's open brow was shadowed
yet likeliest to befall the tenderest and deeply and often with sorrows not her
best - it will reënter her at her lips, and own, and her heart ached many a day
turn her whole nature to the bitterness for pains she could not or dared not re
of gall, so that neither food shall refresh lieve ; but if she were left alone, the
her, sleep rest her, water quench her illumination of the Spark filled every
thirst, nor fire warm her body. Is it thing about her with glory. The sky's
worth the trial ? or shall she live and rapturous blue, the vivid tints of grass
burn slowly to her death, with the un- and leaves, the dismaying splendor of
quenchable fire of the Spark ? " blood -red roses, the milky strawberry
“ Ah ! let her, at the least, try for that flower, the brilliant whiteness of the lily,
perfect life ," said Queen Lura. the turquoise eyes of water-plants , -all
1858.] Maya, the Princess. 267

these gave her a pleasure intense as pain ; One of these kindly cottages harbored
and the songs of the winds, the love-whis- Maya for the night; and then her way at
pers of June midnights, the gathering dawn lay through a vast forest, where
roar of autumn tempests, the rattle of the dim tree -trunks stretched far away
thunder, the breathless and lurid pause till they grew undefined as a gray cloud,
before a tropic storm , all these the and only here and there the sunshine
Spark enhanced and vivified ; till, seeing strewed its elf-gold on ferus and mosses,
how blest in herself and the company of feathery and soft as strange plumage and
Nature the Child of the Kingdom grew , costly velvet. Sometimes a little brook
Qucen Lura deliberated silently and long with bubbling laughter crept across her
whether she should return the gift of the path and slid over the black rocks, gurg
Fairy Cordis, and let Maya live so tran- ling and dimpling in the shadow or
quil and ignorant forever, or whether she sparkling in the sun, while fish, red and
should awaken her from her dreams, and gold -speckled, swam noiseless as dreams,
set her on her way through the world. and darting water-spiders, poised a mo
But now the Princess Maya began to ment on the surface, cast a glittering
grow pale and listless. Her eyes shone diamond reflection on the yellow sand
brighter than ever, but she was consum- beneath .
ed with a feverish longing to see new The way grew long, and Maya weary .
and strange things. On her knees, and The new leaves of opalescent tint shed
weeping, she implored her mother to odors of faint and passionate sweetness ;
release her from the court routine, and the birds sang love-songs that smote the
let her wander in the woods and watch sense like a caress ; a warm wind yearned
the village children play. and complained in the pine boughs far
So Queen Lura, having now another above her ; yet her heart grew heavy,
little daughter, named Maddala, who was and her eyes dim ; she was sick for home;
just like all other children, and a great —not for the palace and the court; not
comfort to her mother, was the more for her mother and Maddala ; but for
inclined to grant Maya's prayer. She home ;-she knew her exile, and wept to
therefore told Maya all that was before return .
her, and having put upon her tiny finger That night, and for many nights, she
the fairy -ring, bade the tiring -woman slept in the forest ; and when at length
take off her velvet robe, and the gold she came out upon the plain beyond, she
circlet in her hair, and clothe her in a was pale and wan, her dark eyes droop
russet suit of serge, with a gray kirtle ed, her slender figure was bowed and
and hood . King Joconde was gone to languid, and only the mark upon her
the wars, Queen Lura cried a little, the brow , where the coronet had fretted its
Princess Maddala laughed, and Maya whiteness, betrayed that Maya was a
-
went out alone , - not lonely, for the princess born.
Spark burned high and clear, and show- And now dwellings began to dot the
ed all the legends written on the world country : brown cottages, with clinging
everywhere, and Maya read them as vines ; villas, aërial and cloud -tinted, with
she went. pointed roofs and capricious windows ;
Out on the wide plain she passed many huts, in which some poor wretch from his
little houses ; but through all their low bed of straw looked out upon the waste
casements the red gleam of a fire shone, ful luxury of his neighbor, and, loath
and on the door-steps clustered happy ing his bitter crust and turbid water, saw
children, or a peasant bride with warm feasts spread in the open air, where trop
blushes on her cheek sat spinning, or a ic fruits and beaded wine mocked his
young mother with pensive eyes lulled feverish thirst; and palaces of stainless
her baby to its twilight sleep and shel marble, rising tower upon tower, and
tered it with still prayers. turret over turret, like the pearly heaps
268 Maya, the Princess. [ January,
of cloud before a storm , while the wind dred pang. She, too, was orphaned in
swept from their gilded lattices bursts of
her soul, and she would gladly have lit
festal music, the chorus that receives a the fire upon this lonely hearth, and com
bride, or the triumphal notes of a war- panioned the solitude of the sleeper ; but,
rior's return . alas ! the boughs still wore their summer
All these Maya passed by, for no door garland, and from each severed end slow
was open, and no fireless heartbre- tears of dryad -life distilled honeyedly up
vealed ; but before night dropped her on the stone beneath . Of such withes and
starry veil, she had travelled to a mansion saplings comes no living fire ! Maya,
whose door was set wide, anú, within, a smiling, set a kiss upon the boy-sleeper's
cold hearth was piled with boughs of oak brow, but the Spark lay quiet, and the
and beech . The opal upon Maya's finger house -spirit flung a blooming cherry
grew dim , but she moved toward the bough after its departing guest.
unlit wood, and at her approach the false The year was now wellnigh run . The
pretence betrayed itself; the ice glared Princess Maya despaired of home. The
before her, and chilled her to the soul, earth seemed a harsh stepmother, and
as its shroud of bark fell off. She fled its children rather stones than clay. A
over the threshold , and the house-spirit vague sense of some fearful barrier be
laughed with bitter mirth ; but the Spark tween herself and her kind haunted the
was safe. woman's soul within her, and the un
Now came thronging streets, and many quenchable flames of the Spark seemed
an open portal wooed Maya, but wooed to girdle her with a defence that drove
in vain. Once, upon the steps of a quaint away even friendly ingress. Night and
and picturesque cottage stood an artist, day she wept, oppressed with loneliness.
with eyes that flashed heaven's own She knew not how to speak the tongues
azure, and lit his waving curls with a of men, though well she understood their
gleam of gold . His pleading look tempted significance. Only little children mated
the Child of the Kingdom with potent rightly with her divine infancy; only the
affinities of land and likeness; his fair mute glories of nature satisfied for a mo
cottage called her from wall and case- ment her brooding soul. The celestial im
ment, with the spiritual eyes of ideal pulses within her beat their wings in futile
faces looking down upon her, forever longing for freedom , and with inexpressi
changeless and forever pure ; but when , ble anguish she uttered her griefs aloud,
from purest pity, kindness, and beauty- or sung them to such plaintive strains
love, she would have drawn near the that all who heard wept in sympathy.
hearth, a sigh like the passing of a soul Yet she had no home.
shivered by her, and before its breath After many days she came upon a
the shapely embers fell to dust, the hearth broad, champaign, fertile land, where,
beneath was heaped with ashes, and with on a gentle knoll, among budding or
tearful lids Maya turned away , and the chards, and fields green with winter
house-spirit, weeping, closed the door grains, stood a low, wide-eaved house,
behind her. with gay parterres and clipped hedges
Long days and nights passed ere she around it, all ordered with artistic har
essayed again ; and then, weary and faint mony, while over chimney and cornice
with home-woe, she lingered on the steps crept wreaths of glossy ivy, cvery deep
of a lofty house whose carved door was green leaf veined with strcaks of light,
swung open, whose jasper hearthstone and its graceful sprays clasping and cling
was heaped with goodly logs, and beside ing wherever they touched the chiselled
it, on the soft flower- strewn skin of a pan- stone beneath. Upon the lawn opened a
ther, slept a youth beautiful as Adonis, broad , low door, and the southern sun
and in his sleep ever murmuring, “Moth- streamed inward, showing the carved
er ! " Maya's heart yearned with a kin- panels of the fireplace and its red hearth,
 1858.] Maya, the Princess. 269

where heavy boughs of wood and splin- erect head, Maya went out. Her laugh
ters from the heart of the pine lay ready rang loud ; her song soared in wild and
for the band of the Coming to kindle. mocking cadence to the stars ; her rigid
Upon the threshold , plucking out the brow wore scorn like a coronal of flame ;
dead leaves of the ivy, stood one from and with a scathed nature she trod the
whose face strength, and beauty, and streets of the city, mixed with its won
guile that the guileless knew not, shone dering crowds, made the Spark a blaze
sunlike upon Maya ; and as she faltered and a marvel in all lands ,—but hid the
and paused , he spoke a welcome to her opal in her bosom ; for its scarlet spot of
in her own language, and held toward life -blood had dropped away, and the
her the clasping band of help. A thrill jewel was broken across.
of mad joy cleft the heart of the Princess, So the wide world heard of Maya, the
a glow of incarnate summer dyed with Child of the Kingdom , and from land to
rose her cheek and lip, the Spark blazed land men carried the stinging arrows of
through her brimming eyes, weariness her wit, or signalled the beacon - fires of
vanished . “ Home ! home ! ” sung her her scorn , while seas and shores un
rapt lips; and in the delirious ecstasy of known echoed her mad and rapt music,
the hour she pressed toward the hearth , or answered the veiled agony that de
laid down her scrip and staff upon the rided itself with choruses of laughter,
heaped wood, flung herself on the red from every mystic whisper of the wave,
stone, and, heedless of the opal talisman, or roar of falling headlands.
flashed outward from her joyful eyes the And then she fled away, lest, in the
Spark , —the Crown, the Curse ! So a turbulent whirl of life, the Curse should
forked tongue of lightning speeds from craze, and not slay her. For sleep had
its rain -fringed cloud, and cleaves the vanished with wordless moans and fright
oak to its centre ; so the blaze of a me- ed aspect from her pillow , -or if it dared,
teor rushes through mid -heaven, and — is standing afar off, to cast its pallid shadow
gone! The Spark lit, quivered, sunk, there, still there was neither rest nor re
and Nashed again ; but the wood lay un- freshing in the troubled spell. Nor could
lighted beneath it. Maya gasped for the thirst that consumed her quench it
breath , and with the long respiration the self with red wine or crystal water, trans
Spark returned, lit upon her lips, seared lucent grapes or the crimson fruits that
them like a hot iron, and entered into summer kisses into sweetness with her
her heart,—the blighting canker of her heats ; forever longing, and forever un
fate, aa bitterness in flesh and spirit for- sated, it parched her lips and burnt her
evermore. gasping mouth, but there was no draught
Writhing with anguish and contempt, to allay it. And even so food failed of its
she turned away from the wrought stone office. Kindly hands brought to her,
whose semblance had beguiled her to her whose queenliness asserted itself to their
mortal loss ; and as she passed from the souls with an innocent loftiness, careless
step, another band lit a consuming blaze of pomp or insignia, all delicate cates and
beneath her staff and scrip, sending a exquisite viands; but neither the keen
sword of flame after her to the thresh- and stimulating odors of savory meat,
old , and the house-spirit shrieked aloud, the crisp whiteness of freshest bread, nor
“ Only stones together strike fire, Maya !" the slow -dropping gold of honeycomb
-while from the casement above looked could tempt her to eat. The simplest
forth two faces, false and fair, with eyes peasant's fare, in measure too scanty for
of azure ice, and disdainful smiles, and a linnet, sustained her life ; but the Curse
i bound together by a curling serpent, lit even upon her food , and those lips of
that ringed itself in portentous symbol fire burned all things in their touch to
about their waists. tasteless ashes.
With star-like eyes, proud lips, and So she fled away ; for the forest was
270 Catawba Wine. [ January,
cool and lonely, and even as she learned the draught a child brings shall slake thy
the lies and treacheries of men , so she thirst; the food pity offers shall strength
longed to leave them behind her and die cn and renew . But these are not the
in bitterness less bitter for its solitude. gifts a Princess receives; she who gath
But Maya fled not from herself : the ers them must veil the Crown, shroud
winds wailed like the crying of despair the Spark, conceal the Curse, and in torn
in her harp-voiced pines ; the shining robes, with bare and bleeding feet, beg
oak -leaves rustled hisses upon her un- the crumbs of life from door to door.
strung ear ; the timid forest-creatures, Wilt thou take up this trade ? ”
who own no rule but patient love and Maya rose up from the leaves of the
caresses, hid from her defiant step and cool lily, and put aside the veiling masse.
dazzling eye ; and when she knew her- of her hair.
self in no wise healed by the ministries “ I will go ! ” she whispered, Autelike
of Nature, in the very apathy of despe- for hope beat a living pulse in her brain.
ration she flung herself by the clear foun- So with scrip and hood she went out
tain that had already fallen upon her lips of the forest and begged of the world's
and cooled them with bitter water, and bounty such life as a beggar-maid may
hiding her head under the broad, fresh endure.
leaves of a calla that bent its marble cups Long ago the King and Queen died
above her knitted brow and loosened in Larrièrepensée, and there the Prin
hair, she lay in deathlike trance, till the cess Maddala reigns with a goodly Prince
Fairy Anima swept her feet with fringed beside her, nor cares for her lost sister ;
garments, and cast the serpent wand but songless, discrowned, desolate, Maya
writhing and glittering upon her breast. walks the earth .
“ Wake, Maya ! ” said the organ -tones All ye whose fires burn bright on the
of the Spark -Bringer; and Maya awoke. hearth, whose dwellings ring with child
“ So ! the Spark galls thee ? ” resumed laughter, or are hushed with love-whis
those deep, bitter-sweet tones ; and for pers and the peace of home, pity the
answer the Princess Maya held toward Princess Maya ! Give her food and
ber, with accusing eyes, the broken , shelter ; charm away the bitter flames
bloodless opal. that consume her life and soul; drop
“ Cordis's folly ! " retorted Anima. tears and alms together into the little
“Thou badst done best without it, Mava ; wasted hand that pleads with dumb elo
the Spark abides no other fate but shin- quence for its possessor; and even while
ing. Yet there is a little hope for thee. ye pity and protect, revere that fretted
Wilt thou die of the bitter fire, or wilt mark of the Crown that still consecrates
thou turn beggar-maid ? The sleep that to the awful solitude of sorrow Maya,
charity lends to its couch shall rest thee ; the Child of the Kingdom !

CATAWBA WINE .

This song of mine

Is a Song of the Vine,
To be sung by the glowing embers
Of wayside inns,
When the rain begins
To darken the drear Novembers.
1858.] Catawba Wine. 271
It is not a song
Of the Scuppernong,
From warm Carolinian valleys ,
Nor the Isabel
And the Muscadel
That bask in our garden alleys,
Nor the red Mustang,
Whose clusters hang
O’er the waves of the Colorado,
And the fiery flood
Of whose purple blood
Has a dash of Spanish bravado.
a

For richest and best

Is the wine of the West,
That grows by the Beautiful River;
Whose sweet perfume
Fills all the room
With aa benison on the giver.
And as hollow trees
Are the haunts of bees
Forever going and coming,
So this crystal hive
Is all alive
With a swarming and buzzing and humming.
Very good in their way
Are the Verzenay,
And the Sillery soft and creamy ;
But Catawba wine
Has a taste more divine,
More dulcet, delicious, and dreamy.

There grows no vine

By the haunted Rhine,
By Danube or Guadalquivir,
Nor on island or cape,
That bears such a grape
As grows by the Beautiful River.

Drugged is their juice

For foreign use,
When shipped o'er the recling Atlantic,
To rack our brains
With the fever pains
That have driven the Old World frantic.

To the sewers and sinks

With all such drinks,
And after them tumble the mixer !
272 The Winds and the Weather. [ January,
For a poison malign
Is such Borgia wine,
Or at best but aa Devil's Elixir.

While pure as a spring

Is the wine I sing,
And to praise it, one needs but name it ;
For Catawba wine
Has need of no sign ,
No tavern -bush to proclaim it.
And this Song of the Vine,
This greeting of mine,
The winds and the birds shall deliver
To the Queen of the West,
In her garlands dressed,
On the banks of the Beautiful River.

THE WINDS AND THE WEATHER.

The Physical Geography of the Sea . reduced when the weather philosophers
By M. F. Maury. New York : Har shall succeed in subjecting the changes
:

per & Brothers. 1857. of the atmosphere to rules and predic

Climatology of the United States and of tions,—when the rain shall fall where it
the Temperate Latitudes of the North is expected, the wind blow no longer
66
American Continent. By Loris “ where it listeth ," and wayward man no
BLODGET. Philadelphia : J. B. Lip- longer find his counterpart in nature .
pincott & Co. 1857. But we console ourselves by contemplat
ing the difficulties of the problem , and
Proceedings of the British Association
for the Advancement of Science. the improbability, that, in our generation
1857 . at least, we shall be deprived of these
subjects of general news and universal
An eloquent philosopher, depicting the interest.
deplorable results that would follow, if During the last half-century, the prog
some future materialist were “to succeed ress of experimental philosophy in the
in displaying to us a mechanical system direction of the weather, though its re
of the human mind, as comprehensive, sults are for the most part of a negative
intelligible, and satisfactory as the New- character, has yet been sufficient to ex
tonian mechanism of the heavens,” ex- cite the apprehensions of the philanthro
claims, “ Fallen from their elevation, Art pist. We have unlearned many fables
and Science and Virtue would no longer and false theories, and have made great
be to man the objects of a genuine and advancement in that knowledge of our
reflective acloration.” We are led, in ignorance, which is the only true founda
reflecting upon the far more probabletion of positive science.
success of the meteorologist, to similar The moon has been deposed from the
forebodings upon the dulness and same- executive chair, though she still has her
ness to which social intercourse will be supporters and advocates ; and an in
1858.] The Winds and the Weather. 278

numerable host of minor causes are its capacity, it will yet, doubtless, ac
found to constitute, upon strictly republi- count for much that is now obscure, as
can principles, the ruling power of the observation brings the facts more dis
winds and the rain . That regularity, tinctly to view . We propose to give a
however complicated, which reason still brief general survey of the mechanics of
demands, and expects even from the the atmosphere in its present state, and
weather, is not found to be so simple as to indicate the nature and limits of our
our rules and signs of the weather indi- knowledge on this subject.
cate ; for the operation of these innumer- Among the first noticed and most re
able causes is so complicated, that the markable features of regularity in at
repetition of similar phenomena or simi- mospheric changes are constant, periodic,
lar combinations of causes, to any great and prevailing winds. The most re
.stent, is the most improbable of events. markable instances of these are the
j'erhaps the meteorologist will ultimately trade-winds of the torrid zone, the mon
find that Nature has succeeded , in what soons of the Indian Ocean, and the pre
sccms, indeed, to be her aim , in com- vailing southwest wind of our northern
pletely retracing her steps, and reducing temperate latitudes. Of these, the trade
the operation of that simple and regular winds are the most important to science,
system of causes, which she brought out as furnishing the key to that general ex
of chaos, back to a confusion of detail, planation of the winds which was first
from which all law and regularity are advanced by the distinguished Halley.
obliterated . In Halley's celebrated theory, the
Meteorological observations have, how- trade -winds are explained as the effects
ever, determined many regular and con- of the unequal distribution of the sun's
stant causes and a few regular phenom- heat in different latitudes. The air of
ena . The method pursued in these the equator, heated more than the north
investigations is, for the most part, the ern or southern air, expands more , and
climination, by general averages, of lim- overflows, moving in the upper regions
ited and temporary changes in the ele- of the atmosphere toward the poles ;
ments of the weather, and the determi- while the lower, colder air on both sides
nation of those changes which depend moves toward the equator to preserve
upon the constant influences of locality, equilibrium . Thus an extensive circula
of season, and of constant or slowly tion is carried on . The air that moves
varying causes. These constant influ- from the equator in the upper atmos
ences constitute the climate ; and the phere, gradually sinking to the surface
study of climates is thus the first step of the earth, finally ceases to move to
towards the solution of the problem of ward the poles, and returns as an under
the weather. Climates, in their changes current to the equator, where it again
and distribution , are very important cle- rises and moves toward the poles.
ments in the determination of the move- Now the air of the equator, moving
ments of the weather, and are to the with the earth's rotary motion , has a
meteorologist what the elements of the greater velocity than the earth itself at
planetary orbits are to the astronomer ; high northern or southern latitudes, and
but, unlike planetary perturbations, the consequently appears to gain an eastward
weather makes the most reckless excur- motion in its progress toward the poles.
sions from its averages, and obscures Without friction, this relative eastward
them by a most inconsequent and incal- motion would increase as the air moves
culable fickleness. toward the poles, and diminish at the
Whether mechanical science will here- same rate as the air returns, till at the
after succeed in calculating these pertur- equator the velocity of the earth and of
bations of climate, as we may style the the air would again be equal; but friction
weather, or will find the problem beyond reduces the motion of the returning air
VOL . I. 18
274 The Winds and the Weather. [ January,
to that of the earth, at or near the calms Now although this hypothesis explains
of the tropics ; so that the air, passing the phenomena, it has still met with great
the tropics, gains a relative westward opposition. The motions which Lieut.
inotion in its further progress through Maury supposes can hardly be accounted
the torrid zone. The southwestward for without resorting, as is usual in such
motion thus produced between the tropic cases, to electricity or magnetism ,—to
of Cancer and the cquator is the well- some occult cause , or some occult opera
known trade-wind . tion of a known cause . Moreover, it has
Now, according to this theory, the pre- been difficult for the mechanical philoso
vailing winds of our temperate latitudes pher to understand how the winds man
ought to have a southeastward motion as age to cross each other, as Lieut. Maury
far as the calms of Cancer or “ the horse supposes them to do, at the equator and
latitudes. ” Moreover, instead of these the tropics, without getting into “ entang
calms, there should still be a southward ling alliances .” If this hypothesis were :
inotion. But observation has shown, that advanced, not as a physical explanation
though the prevailing lower winds of our of the phenomena, but, like the epicycles
latitude move eastward , still their motion and eccentrics of Ptolemy, “ to save the
is toward the north rather than the south ; appearances,” its ingenuity would be
so that they appear to contradict the greatly to its author's credit; but, like
theory by which the trade-winds are ex- the epicycles and eccentrics, though it
plained. represents the phenomena well enough,
To account for these anomalies, Lieut. it contradicts laws of motion, now well
Maury has invented a very ingenious known, which ought to be familiar to
hypothesis, which is published in his every physical philosopher. But these
" Physical Geography of the Sea .” He speculations of Licut. Maury will now be
supposes that the air, which passes from superseded by a new theory of atmos
the equator toward the poles in the upper pheric movements, an account of which
regions of the atmosphere, is brought was presented by its author, Mr. J.
down to the surface of the earth beyond Thompson, at the recent meeting of the
the calms of the tropics, and that it British Association for the Advancement
thence proceeds with an increasing east- of Science . *
ward motion, appearing in our northern Mr. Thompson's theory takes account
hemisphere as the prevailing northeast- of forces, hitherto unnoticed , which are
ward winds. Approaching the poles generated by the eastward circulation
with a spiral motion , the air there of the atmosphere in high latitudes. He
rises, according to this hypothesis, in a shows that these forces cause the prevail
vortex, and returns toward the equator ing northeastward under -current of our
in the upper atmosphere, gradually ac- latitudes, while above this, yet below the
quiring a westward motion ; till, return- highest northeastward current, the air
ing to the tropies, it is again brought ought still to move southward according
down to the earth, and thence proceeds, to Halley's theory.
with a still increasing westward motion, This under -current is not the imme
as the trade-winds. At the equator the diate effect of differences of temperature,
air rises again, and, according to Licut. but a secondary effect induced by the
Maury, crosses to the other side, and friction of the earth's surface and the
proceeds through a similar course in the continual deflection of the air's eastward
other hemisphere. motion from a great circle, (in which the
The rising of the air at the equator is * A fuller discussion of this theory the
supposed to cause the equatorial rains;
author reserved for the Royal Society. The
and the drought of the tropics is also ex London Athenæum gives a brief abstract of
plained by that descent of the air, in these his paper, in its report of the proceedings
latitudes, which this hypothesis supposes. of the Association .
1858.] The Winds and the Weather . 275

air tends to inove,) into the small circle der-current, and in our latitude appears
of the latitude, in which the air actually as the prevailing northeastward wind ,
does move . The force of this deflection, a very feeble motion, usually lost in the
measured by the centrifugal force of the weather winds and other disturbances,
air as it circulates around the pole, re- and only appearing distinctly in the gen
tards the movement from the equator, and eral average.
finally wholly suspends it ; so that the Mr. Thompson illustrates the effect of
upper air circulates around in the higher the friction of the earth's surface on the
latitudes as water may be made to cir- eastward circulation of the air by a very
culate in a pail; and the air is drawn simple experiment with a pail of water.
away from the polar regions as this circu- If we put into the pail grains of any
latory motion is communicated to it, and material a little heavier than water, and
tends to accumulate in the middle lati- then give the water a rotatory motion by
tudes, as the circulating water is heaped stirring it, the grains ought, by the cen
up around the sides of the pail. Hence, trifugal force imparted to them , to collect
in the middle latitudes there is a greater around the sides of the pail; but, sinking
weight of air than at the poles, and this to the bottom , they do in fact tend to
tends to press the lower air to higher collect at the centre, carried inward by
latitudes. Centrifugal force, however, those currents which the friction of the
balances this pressure, so long as the sides and bottom indirectly produces.
lower air moves with the velocity of the Thus Mr. Thompson's beautiful and
upper strata ; but as the friction of the philosophical theory completes that of
earth retards its motion and diminishes Halley, and explains all those apparent
its centrifugal force, it gradually yields anomalies which have hitherto seemed
to the pressure of the air above it, and irreconcilable with the only rational ac
moves toward the poles. Near the polar count of the trade -winds. The rainless
circles it is again retarded by its increas- calms of the tropics are explained by this
ing centrifugal force, and it returns theory without that crossing and interfer
through the middle regions of the atmos- ence of winds which Lieut. Maury sup
phere. poses ; for the secondary circulation re
Thus there are two systems of atmos- turns as an under -current toward the
pheric circulation in each hemisphere. poles without reaching the tropics, and
The principal one extends from the equa- the dry lower current of the principal
tor to high middle latitudes and partly circulation passes over the tropical lati
overlies the other, which extends from tudes, in its gradual descent, before it
the tropical calins to the polar circles. reaches the earth as the trade-winds.
These two circulations move in opposite These trade-winds, absorbing moisture
directions; like two wheels, when one from the sea , precipitate it as they rise
communicates its motion to the other by again, and produce the constant equato
the contact of their circumferences. rial rains ; and these rains, doubtless,
In the middle latitudes the lower cur- tend much more powerfully than the
rent of the principal circulation lies mere unequal distribution of heat to di
upon the upper current of the secondary rect the wind toward the equator ; for the
circulation, and both move together to fall of rain rapidly diminishes the press
ward the equator. This principal lower ure of the air and disturbs its equilib
current first touches the earth's surface riun, so that violent winds are frequent
beyond the tropical calms, and having ly observed to blow toward rainy dis
lost its relative eastward motion and now tricts. Thus, primarily, the unequal
tending westward, it appears as the trade- distribution of heat, and, more immedi
wind, very regular and constant; while ately, the equatorial rains cause the prin
the upper secondary current returns, cipal circulation of our' atmosphere; and
without reaching the tropics, as an un- this indirectly produces the secondary cir
276 The Winds and the Weather. [ January,
culation of Mr. Thompson's theory. Both atively insignificant in the motions of
these regular movements are, however, the planets, yet in the weather they are
greatly disturbed, and especially the lat often more important than the primary
ter, by winds which are occasioned by causes.
local and irregular rains. The aggregate and permanent effect
In these movements and their causes of all these disturbing causes, primary
we have the general outline of our sub- and secondary, is seen in that irregular
ject, within which we must now sketch distribution of climates, which the tortu
the weather. The causes of atmospheric ous isothermal lines and the mottled rain
movement, which we have thus far con- charts illustrate. The isothermal lines
sidered, are the unequal distribution of may be regarded as the topographical
the sun's heat, the absorption and pre delineations of that bed of temperatures
ripitation of moisture, the direct and the down which the upper atmosphere flows
inductive action of the earth's rotation from the equator toward the poles, till its
and frietion . If to these we should add downward tendency is balanced by the
the tidal action of the sun's and moon's centrifugal force of its eastward motion.
attractions, we should perhaps complete This irregular bed shifts from month to
the list of veræ causc which are cer- month, from day to day, and even from
tainly known to exert a more or less hour to hour ; and the lines that are
general influence upon the atmosphere. drawn on the maps are only averages for
But this short list is long enough, as we the year or the season .
shall soon see. In the midst of these irregular, but
If the earth were wholly covered with continuous agencies, the rain introduces
water of a uniform depth, its climates a peculiar discontinuity, and turns ir
would be distributed with greater regu- regularity into discord . We have shown
larity, and the perturbations of climate that the rain is an immediate cause of
would be comparatively small and regu- wind ; but how is the rain itself pro
lar ; though even under such circum- duced ? For so marked an effect we
stances there would still exist a tendency naturally seek a special cause ; but no
to discontinuity and complexity of more- adequate single cause has ever been
ments from that influence of rain , the discovered . The combination of many
peculiar character of which we shall conditions, probably, is necessary', - such
soon consider. as a peculiar distribution of heat and
The irregular distribution of land and moisture and atmospheric movements :
water, and the peculiar action of each in though the immediate cause of the fall
imparting the heat of the sun to the in- of rain is doubtless the rising, and con
rumbent air, -- the irregular distribution sequent expansion and cooling, of the
of plains and mountains, and their various saturated air .
effects in different positions and at differ- The winds that blow hither and thither,
ent altitudes,—the distribution of heat vainly striving to restore equilibrium to
effected by ocean currents , -all these the atmosphere, burden themselves with
tend to produce permanent derange- the moisture they absorb from the seas ;
ments of climate and great irregularities and this moisture absorbs their heat, re
in the weather. To these we must add tarls their motion, and slowly modifies
what the astronomer calls disturbing ac- the forces which impel them. Now when
tions of the second order,-effects of the the saturated air, extending far above
disturbances themselves upon the action the surface of the earth, and carried in
of the disturbing agencies,-effects of its movements still higher, is relieved of
the irregular winds upon the distribution an incumbent weight of air, it becomes
of heat and rain, and upon the action rarefied, and its temperature and capaci
of lands and seas, mountains and plains. ty for moisture are simultaneously di
Though such disturbances are compar minished ; its moisture, suddenly pre
1858.] The Winds and the Weather. 277

cipitated, appears as a cloud, the parti- verted again to beat by combustion or

cles of which collect into rain -drops and by vital processes, and brought out as
fall to the earth . Thus the air suddenly mechanical power in the steam -engine
loses much of its weight, and instead of or in the horse , -it is still the same pow
restoring equilibrium to the troubled at- er, and is measured in each of its forms
mosphere, it introduces a new source of by an invariable standard . It tirst ap
disturbance. Though the weight of the pears as the heat of the sun, and a por
air is diminished by the fall of rain , yet tion escapes at once back into space,
the bulk is increased by the expansive while the rest passes first through a series
force of the latent heat which the con- of transformations. A part is changedi
densed vapors set free. Thus the rainy into moving winds or into suspended
air expands upwards and flows outwards, vapor, and a part into fuel or food . From
and no longer able to balance the press- conditions of motion it is changed into
ure of the surrounding air, it is carried motion ; from motion it is changed by
still higher by inblowing winds, which friction or resistance into heat, electric
rise in turn and continue the process, force, molecular vibrations, or into new
often extending the storm over vast areas. conditions of motion, and passing through
The force of these movements is meas- its course of changes, it remains embodied
ured partly by the force of latent heat set in its permanent effects or escapes intu
free, and partly by the mechanical power space as heat.
of the rain -fall, a very small fraction of Though mechanical science will prob
which constitutes the water -power of all ably never be able to predict the begin
our rivers. Such a fruitful source of dis- ning or duration of storms, it will yet,
turbance, generated by so slight an acci- doubtless, be able to account for all their
dent as the upward movement of the sat- general features, and for such distinct
urated air, expanded by its own agency local peculiarities as observation may de
to so great an extent, so sudden and dis- terinine. Great advancement has already
been made in the determination of pre
continuous in its action, so obscurc in its
origin, and so distinct in its effects- vailing winds and in the study of storms.
such a phenomenon defies the powers of Two theories have been brought forward
mathematical prediction, and rouses all upon the general movements of storms ;
the winds to sedition. both have been proved , to the entire sat
A storm not only disturbs the lower isfaction of their advocates, by the storms
winds, but its influences reach even to themselves ; and probably both are, with
the upper movements. The sudden ex- some limitations, true. The first of these
pansion and rising of the rainy air delay theories we have already described . Ac
these movements, which afterwards react cording to it, the winds move inward to
as violent winds. ward the centre of the storm ; according
The forces stored away by the gradual to the other theory, they blow in a cir
rise of vapor and its absorption of heat, cumference around the centre.
and then suddenly exhibited in a me- Observations upon storns of small cs
chanical form by the effects of rain , af- tent, such as thunder -storms or tornadoes,
ford an illustration of that principle of show very clearly that the winds blow
conservation and economy of power, of toward the stormy district. But when
which there are so many examples in observations are made upon the winds
modern science. No power is ever de- within the district of such extensive
stroyed. Whether exhibited as heat or storms as sometimes visit the United
mechanical force, in the products and States, the directions of the wind are
forces of chemical or of vital action , in found to be so various, that the advocates
movement or in altered conditions of of either theory, making due allowance
motion w
, hether changed by the growth for local disturbances, can triumphantly
of plants into fuel or into food, and con- refute their adversaries. In such storms
278 The Winds and the Weather. [ January,
there are doubtless many centres or max- Storms have, however, certain habits
ima of rain , and whether the wind move and peculiarities, more or less regular
around or toward these centres, it would and distinct, which depend upon locality
inevitably get confuseil. and season . And this is what ought to
The opinion, that the winds move be expected ; for, though the storms
around the central point or line of the themselves are essentially anoinalous, yet
storm , was strenuously maintained by the many of the causes which coöperate to
late Mr. Redfield , whose activity in his induc e them are constant or periodie,
favoritepursuit has connected his name while others are subject to but slight
inseparably with meteorology . Others perturbations. It is obvious that no
have maintained the same opinion, and more moisture can be precipitated than
the rotatory motion of the tropical hur- has been evaporated , and that the winds
ricanes is offered as a principal proof. only gain suddenly by the fall of rain
It is obvious from the causes of motion the forces which they have lost at their
already considered , that, if the air is leisure in the absorption of moisturc.
carried far, by its tendency toward a Thus the rage of the storm is kept within
rainy district, it will acquire a second- bounds, and though the exact period at
ary relative motion from its change of which the winds are set free cannot be
latitude ; and this, in our hemisphere, if determined , yet their force and frequency
the air move toward the south, will be must be subject to certain limitations.
westward ,-if toward the north, eastward . The study of the habits and peculiarities
Hence the motion of the air from both of storms is of the greatest importance
directions toward a stormy district is de- to navigation and agriculture , and these
flected to the right side of the storm ; and arts have already been benefited by the
this gives rise to that motion from right labors of the meteorologist.
to left which is observed in the hurricanes The lawlessness of the weather, within
of the northern hemisphere. certain limitations, though discouraging
To suppose, as many do, that regular to the physical philosopher, has yet its
winds, arising from constant and exten- bright side for the student of final causes.
sive causes, can come into bodily conflict The uses of the weather and its adapta
and preserve their identity and original tion to organic life are subjects of untir
impetus for days, without immediate and ing interest. The progression of the sea
strongly impelling es to sustain their sons, varied by differences of latitude, is
motion, implies a profound ignorance of also diversified and adapted to a fuller
mechanical science, and is little better development of organic variety by irregu
than those ancient superstitions which larities of climate.
gave a personal identity to the winds. The regular alternations of day and
The momentum of ordinary winds is a night, summer and winter, dry seasons
feeble force in comparison with those and wet, are adapted to those alterna
forces of pressure and friction which tions of organic functions which belong
continually modify it. Hence sudden to the economy of life. The vital forces
changes in the direction and intensity of of plants and of the lower orilers of ani
winds must primarily arise from similar mals have not that self-determining ( a
changes in these forces. But there are pacity of change which is necessary to
no known forces which change so sud- the complete development of life ; but
denly, except the pressure and latent they persist in their present mode of ac
heat of suspended vapor ; and there- tion, and, when they are not modified
fore the fall of rain is the only adequate by outward changes, reduce life to its
known cause of those storm-winds which, simplest phases. Changes of growth are
interpolated among the gentler winds, effected by those apparent hardships to
keep the atmosphere in perpetual com- which life is subject; and progression
motion. in new directions is effected by retro
1858.] Akin by Marriage. 279

gression in previous modes of growth . capacities and the greatest varieties of

The old leaves and branches must fall, organized life require for their fullest de
the wood must be frost-bitten or dried,velopment ; and that as the storm sub
the substance of seeds must wither and sided into a simpler, but less genial di
then decay, the action of leaves must versity,-into the weather,—whole orders
-

every night be reversed, vines and and genera and species sank with it from
branches must be shaken by the winds, the ranks of possible organic forms. The
that the energies and the materials of weather, fallen from its high estate, no
new forms of life may be rendered ac- longer able to develope, much less to
tive and available . create new forms, can only sustain those
Some of the outward changes of na- that are left to its care .
ture are regular and periodic, while Man finds himself everywhere mir
others, without law or method, are ap- rored in nature. Wayward, inconstant,
parently adapted by their diversity to always seeking rest, always impelled by
draw out the unlimited capacities and new evils, the greatest of which he him
varieties of life ; so that as inorganic na- self creates,-protecting and cherishing
ture approaches a regulated confusion , or blighting and destroying the fragmen
the more it tends to bring forth that per- tary life of a fallen nature,-incapable
fect order, of which fragments appear inbimself of creating new capacities, but
the incomplete system of actual organic nourishing in prosperity and quickening
life. in adversity those that are left ,-he sees
The classification of organic forms pre-the workings of his own life in the strife
sents to the naturalist, not the structure of the elements. His powers and activi
of a regular though incomplete derelop- ties are related to his spiritual capacities,
ment, but the broken and fragmentary as inorganic movements are related to
form of a ruin . We may suppose, then , an organizing life. The resurrection of
with aa recent physiological writer, that his higher nature is like a new creation ,
the creation of those organic forms which secret, sudden, inconsequent. “ The wind
constitute this fragmentary system was bloweth where it listeth, and thou hear
effected in the midst of an elemental est the sound thereof, but canst not tell
storm , a regulated confusion, uniting all whence it cometh, and whither it goeth ;
the external conditions which the highest so is every one that is born of the Spirit.”

AKIN BY MARRIAGE .

[ Continued .)

CHAPTER IV. Elam , that when he should be settled in

The designs of Mr. Elam Hunt upon
the hand of Laura Stebbins bave already
been mentioned, in a former chapter of
this history, as well as the fact that his
hopes were encouraged by Mrs. Jaynes,
who ( to make no secret of the matter)
had pledged her word to the enamored
a parish of his own, Laura should be
added to complete the sum of his fe
licity.
To this agreement Laura herself was
not a party; nay, her consent had never
been so much as asked ; for though Elam
knew that marriage by proxy was im
280 Akin by Marriage. [ January ,
possible, and, indeed, would doubtless “ Nor I, ” cried Laura, sinking still
bave preferred to be the bridegroom at deeper in despair. “ Oh,dear! what shall
his own wedding, he had no objection I do ? "
whatever to a vicarious courtship ; for " In novels, you know,” pursued Cor
66

be was not a forward suitor, delighting to nelia, “ where there's a cruel, tyrannical
prattle of his pains to his fair tormentor, father, like your sister, there's always a
as the way of many is. But touching hero in love with the heroine ”
all the terms and conditions of this con- " I'm sure I wish there was a hero in
66

tract Laura was informed by Mrs. Jaynes, love with me,” said Laura, thinking of
wbo, when the other protested with tears her own hero in regimentals. “ I'd run
and sobs against this disposition of her away with him," she added, with anima
person without even asking her leave tion, “ if — if both his legs were shot off,"
—not considering duly , I dare say, how
thereto, replied, with a quiet voice and
manner, that she had the right to make greatly such a dreadful mutilation, how
the promise in Laura's name, and had ever glorious in itself, would conflict with
done so upon due consideration . the rapid locomotion essential to her plan
This ominous reserve frightened Lau- of elopement.
ra far more than an angry reply would But when Tira Blake came to be told
have done ; for when her sister spoke of Laura's trouble, and the reasons of it,
with such brief decision, it was a sign that sage and prudent friend gave coun
that her mind was made up ; and Laura sel that cheered her like a cordial, telling
knew full well the resolute purpose with her it would be sinful to marry a man
which Mrs. Jaynes was wont to pursue whom she disliked so heartily, and that
any design that she had once formed in such a matter no one had the right to
She distrusted her own ability to with- demand or enforce obedience.
66
stand her sister's inflexible will, and felt " It's bad enough to be married when
a secret misgiving, that, in spite of herself, you're willin ',” said she ; " but when you
she would by some means be forced or a’n't willin ', there's no law nor no gospel
persuaded to yield at last. This very to make you ."
lack of faith in her own power of resist- “ But if Maria should compel me, what
ance caused her more distress and terror should I do ? ” cried Laura, to whom her
than all her other fears. Sometimes she sister's will seemed more mighty than
almost fancied a spell of enchantment both law and gospel.
had been put upon her, which would She can't,” replied Statira, senten
render all her efforts to escape her fate tiously ; " she can't. Her “ yes,' in such
as unavailing as the struggles of a gnat a case, is only good for herself; it can't
in a spider's web. make you any man's wife.-What shall
A friend in time of trouble is like a you do ? Why, nothin ', - pothin' in the
staff to one that is lame or weary. But world . If they should bring bridegroom
when Laura, in these straits, leaned up- and parson, and stand you up side of
on her dearest friend, Cornelia, for aid hiin by main force, (which of course is
and comfort, she found but a broken foolish to think of their doing so , only
reed ; for, instead of words of consolation I suppose it just to show you what I
and encouragement, Cornelia uttered mean ,) even in such a case you needn't
only dismal prophecies that Laura was do anything. Keep your mouth shut and
surely doomed to be the young parson's your head from bobbin ', and there a’n't
bride. lawyers, nor squires, nor parsons, nor
“ If you only had another lover to run parsons' wives either for that matter,
away with, now,” said she, “ why, then it enough in all Connecticut to marry you
would be delightful to have your sister to a mouse, let alone a man . Humph !"
act as she does ; but, as it is, I'm sure I added Miss Blake, with scornful accent,
don't see any way to avoid it.” “ I should like to see 'em set out to
1858. ] Akin by Marriage. 281

marry me to anybody I didn't want to the whole conversation, a part of which

have ! " has been set forth above. Coming through
There was nothing in all that Tira the wicket in the garden fence, on an
said which Laura did not know before ; errand to the Bugbee kitchen , the sound
but it was uttered in such a way that it of her own name, in Laura's excited
sounded in her ears like a new revela- tones, struck Mrs. Jaynes's ear and ex
tion, filling her heart with peace and cited her curiosity. Walking nearer to
comfort, and inspiring her with hope and the house, and concealing herself behind
courage. The magic spell that had en- a little thicket of lilac bushes, near the
thralled her spirit was broken by the open window of Statira's bedroom , she
power of a few cheery, confident, assur- was enabled to hear with distinctness
ing words. A heavy weight secmed almost every word uttered by the un
lifted from her heart, and , relieved from conscious conspirators, who were plot
the pressure , her spirits rose , joyous and ting against the fulfilment of her cher
clastic. The shadow was dispelled which ished project.
had darkened her future, and the sun There is good reason for believing that
seemed to shine brighter and the birds what Mrs. Jaynes overheard, while lying
to sing more sweetly. She herself was in ambush, as has been related, excited
changed ,-or at least it was hard to be- in her heart emotions of indignation and
lieve she was the same Laura Stebbins resentment. Be that as it may, no trace
who, the night before, had cried herself of displeasure was visible upon her face
to sleep, and whose doleful visage, that or in her voice or manner, when, a few
very morning, had looked out at her minutes afterwards, she stood by the side
from the mirror. She flew at Tira in a .of the unsuspicious Tira, in the back
transport, and, without asking her leave, veranda of the house, holding in her
kissed her twenty times in less than a hand a plate containing a pat of butter
minute, after a fashion that (I say it with she had just borrowed from the Doctor's
reverence) would have tantalized evenhousekeeper, while the latter, peeping
a deacon. She clapped her hands, she through the curtain of vine-leaves, gazed
laughed, she danced, she went swaying at as pretty a spectacle as just then
on tiptoe around the room with a jaunty could have been seen anywhere in Bel
step , singing and keeping time to a waltz- field. On the grassplot, in the shade of
tune ; and finally, pausing near the win-
1 a great cherry -trce, Laura and Helen
dow, she doubled a tiny fist, as white as were playing at graces. Both were full
a snowball, bringing it down into the of frolicsome glee ; the former, with spir
rosy palın of her other hand with a ges its in their first glad rebound from re
ture of resolute determination , at the cent despondency, being wild with gay
same tinc uttering, through closed teeth ety, enjoying the sport no less than the
and with compressed and puckered lips, merry child, her playmate. Laura's
an oft-repeated vow, that, never, never , glowing face was fairly radiant with
the longest day she lived, would she beauty, and her figure was unconscious
merry Elam Hunt, to please anybody, – ly displayed in such a variety of be
as her sister Maria (said she, with a witching attitudes and dainty postures,
sancy toss of the head ) would find, if she that even a pair of frisky kittens, that
tried to make her ! had been chasing each other round the
I doubt greatly, whether, if Laura had grassplot and up and down the stems of
known what I am now going to tell my the cherry-trees, ceased their gambols
reader, she would have indulged in such and lay still, crouching in the grass, and
vivacious pranks, and bold, defiant words: watching her graceful motions, as if tak
namely, that Mrs. Jaynes was hearing ing heed for future imitation. If Kit
everything she said , and, in fact, had lis- and Tabby really did regard Laura with
tened to and taken special heed of nearly admiration and complacency, it was more
282 Akin by Marriage. [ January,
than I can say for Mrs. Jaynes, in whose good fortune, and suggesting that Laura
heart a secret rage was burning, though should at once bestir herself in prepara
her aspect and demeanor were as placid tions for their wedding, in order that
and demure as if the butter she held in this blissful event might precede bis
her hand would not bave melted in ber ordination. Then , after waiting for the
pursed -up mouth . lapse of that period of decorous delay
Mrs. Jaynes, for reasons of her own, which immemorial usage bas prescribed
thought proper to keep her temper in in such cases, he indited an epistle to the
control, abstaining from any manifesta- church in Walbury, stating, in proper
tion of displeasure for a much longer and accustomed form , that his native
time than while she remained standing humility inclined him to refuse their re
in the back veranda of Doctor Bugbee's quest ; but that, after a wrestle with his
house. She did not think it prudent to inclinations, he had got the better of
apprise Laura that her rcbullious con- them , and had resolved to sacrifice his
ference with Statira had been discovered , own wishes and feelings, and to enter
nor to forbid her from bolding further the field of labor to which the Israel in
communication with her evil counsellors; Walbury had invited him.
but contented herself, for the present, A year and more had elapsed since
with keeping a stricter watch over her Laura, encouraged by Tira Blake's as
sister's conduct, by practising with in- suring words, had begun to 'sope that
creased rigor and vigilance that efficient a better fate was in store for her than
system of tactics hereinbefore commem- to become the wife of a man she detest
orated, by which the ardor of Laura's ed. Meanwhile, Elam bad often come
chance admirers was repressed and their to Belfield, sometimes preaching a ser
advances repelled, and by alluding, from mon for Mr. Jaynes, and going away
time to time, to Laura's prospective nup- again, after aa brief sojourn, without hav
tials, as to an event predestined and in- ing opened his mouth to Laura to speak
evitable, or, at least, no less sure to come of love or marriage. At his later visits
to pass than if Laura herself had en- it was cvident that he was inclined to
gaged her hand to Mr. Hunt of her own despond about his prospects of getting a
free will and accord, and was only wait- settlement, and Laura began to entertain
ing to be asked to name the wedding strong hopes that he never would be
day. successful; for she would have given
It was many months after Elam left up all the chances of beholding her mili
the shady height of East Windsor Hill tary hero in person, and would have
before he received a call to settle ; for been content to live a maid forever,
though he preached in different parts continually waiting for Elam, if she could
on trial, before many congregations that have been assured the time would never
were destitute of pastors, none of these come for him to claim her.
fastidious flocks would listen to his voice But, one morning, after breakfast,
a second time, or agree to choose him for having made her bed and arranged her
its shepherd. At last, however, the peo- chamber, singing blithely all the while,
ple of Walbury, a town in Windham she was just going to sit down by the
County, lying nearly twenty miles from window with her sewing, when Mrs.
Beifield , made choice of Mr. Ilunt to Jaynes came in with a letter in her
be their spiritual guide, and accordingly hand. Laura guessed at once that the
extended to him an invitation to be or- letter was from Elam , and that it con
dained and installed as the settled min- tained the news of which the reader
ister over their ancient parish. Upon has been apprised already. Though
receiving this proposal, Elam at once she did not need to read the letter in
despatched a letter to his friend and order to inform herself of its contents,
ally, Mrs. Jaynes, informing her of his she took it in her hand, when her sis
1858.] Akin by Marriage. 283

ter bade her read it, and made a pre- engagement that has subsisted so long,
tence of obedience, shuddering, mean- whether for or without cause, I cannot
while, with disgust and terror. At last prevent it. You have read so many fool
she came to the conclusion of the epis- ish romances, that your head is turned ,
tle, where Elam bad mentioned his de- and you fancy yourself a heroine in dis
sire to be married before being ordained, tress. But let me tell you, my dear, that
and had subscribed himself as united in in real life, here, in New England, a
gospel bonds to the worthy lady to whom woman cannot be forced to marry. So
the letter was addressed . Then, folding calm your transports, wipe your eyes,
up the paper with trembling hands, she and get up from your knees. I'ın not to
held it towards her sister, without daring be kneeled to, pray remember.”
to look up, or to say a word. Laura did as she was told ,-so much
“ Now , Laura ," asked Mrs. Jaynes, in abashed that she dared not look up. To
a quiet tone, “ when can you be ready increase her confusion, her sister began
to be married ? " to laugh.
Laura tried to speak , and looked up, “ I beg your pardon, dear,” said she,
with a pale, frightened face, into her sis- but, ha, ha, ha ! it was so funny like
66

ter's impassive countenance. Her white a scene in a play, I should think .”

lips failed to forin the words she strove " I know I've been silly, Maria ,” said
66

to utter. Laura, weeping again , -with shame, this

“ When shall the wedding be ? ” said time .
Dîrs. Jaynes, with a smile of affected “ Never mind, dear,” said her sister, in
sportiveness. “ Name the happy day, a kind tone, “we're all silly sometimes,
my love . " You'll never be guilty of the folly again,
66
· Happy day ! ” repeated poor Laura. at any rate, of supposing that girls can
“ Oh, Maria ! " be married, in spite of themselves, by
66
• Why, what's the matter, child ? ” said cruel sisters ; eh, Laura ? ”
Mrs. Jaynes ; "6 what are you crying for ? ” “ Oh, Maria, do forgive me ! ” cried
“ Oh, dear, dear sister ! ” sobbed Lau Laura, blushing crimson. “ I was SO
ra, falling on her knees at Mrs. Jaynes's very silly ! ”
feet, “ do hear me ! You are my mother, “ Well, let it all go,” said Mrs. Jaynes,
for you fill her place.” kissing her. “ Now we'll talk about this
“ I have endeavored to do so ," said Tell me why you don't wish to
Mrs. Jaynes. marry Mr. Hunt. If you have any
“ Then, for God's sake, don't make me good reason against it, I'm sure I don't
marry this horrid man ! ” pursued Laura. desire it ; though, I confess, having sup
“ Don't tell me that I must ! Don't force posed so long it was a settled thing, I
me to such a fate ! ” And with many had set my heart upon it. Perhaps this
passionate words, like these, Laura im- disappointment has been sent to me for
plored her sister not to lay any command some wise purpose ,” added Mrs. Jaynes,
upon her to marry Elam Hunt. with a pious sigh.
“ Hush, Laura ! hush, my dear child ! " Thus encouraged, Laura opened her
said Mrs. Jaynes, who had anticipated heart and began to talk , saying that she
this scene, and was well prepared with didn't like Mr. Hunt, that she didn't love
her replies. “ Be calm; you behave him, that she disliked him , and hated him,
absurdly. I hare no power to force you and that he was hateful, and horrid, and
to marry any man. I don't expect to awful, and dreadful, and so homely, and
compel you to accept Mr. Ilunt for a pale, and pimplcd, and, ugh ! she should
husband. For at least two years past I never like him, nor love him, but always
had supposed , however, that it was your dislike him , and hate him . And on she
intention to do so . If you have changed went in this manner, till her fervor was
your mind, and if you wish to break an cooled, and she had exhausted , by fre
284 Akin by Marriage. [ January ,
quent repetition, every form of speech word or two in his favor, notwithstand
capable of expressing her great repug- ing, and also in favor of a plan which
nance to a union with Elam Hunt. In I had supposed was agreed upon, and
conclusion, she said she was willing never which I dislike extremely to see aban
to marry, but would remain with her sis doned. You have reasons against it,
ter and work for her and the children which you have stated. I have reasons
all her life. for it, which I will state. But first an
* Thank you, dear, ” said Mrs. Jaynes. swer me two or three simple questions ,
“We'll talk of your kind offer presently ; ' yes' or • no,' — will you, dear ? ”
and you will sec, I think, that I have no And Laura assenting, she went on to
desire that you should live and die an ask if Mr. Hunt was not good, and pious,
old maid, even in case you do not marry and of blameless life and reputation ; ex
Mr. Hunt. " torting from Laura an allirmative reply
“ I'm sure I'd rather than not ,” said to cach separate inquiry.
Laura, with a twinge of conscience at “ He's all these good qualities, then, to
the thought of her hero. offset the complexion of his face and
“ Have you said all that you've got to spectacles," resumed Mrs. Jaynes. “ Now
say ? " asked Mrs. Jaynes, very quietly. let us look at the matter in a worldly
Laura looked up into her sister's grave, point of view. He is able to give you
sober face, and felt a chill of vague ap- not only a place, but the very highest
prehension begin to take the place of the position in society ; he can offer you , not
hopeful glow in her heart. wealth, but competence, which is better
« Eh ? ” said Mrs. Jaynes, inquiringly. than either poverty or riches. Why,
“ Y - yes,” faltered Laura, “ only this, my dear, there are a hundred girls in
- I don't like him , and he's such a hor- this town, many of whom excel you in
rid, disgusting man ,-and - and - that's everything which men think desirable in
all, I believe, except that I don't like a wife, except, perhaps, the poor, perish
him, and think he's so disagreeable , – able quality of beauty, - girls of good
and — oh, yes ! there's another thing , family, rich, or likely to be so, intelli
he wears blue spectacles, – ugh ! blue gent, well educated, some of them, to say
spectacles ! " the least, almost as pretty as you, any
“ Is there anything more ?” said Mrs. one of whom would think herself hon
Jaynes, still speaking with the same ored by this offer which you despise ; for
even , quiet voice. most people are aware that to be a min :
97
“ N - no,” said Laura, “ only I ister's wife, in New England, is, my dear,
and here she paused. to occupy, as I have just said, the very
" Don't like him ,” added Mrs. Jaynes, summit of the social structure .”
supplying the words. 66
Here Mrs. Jaynes made a period, and
6%
· Yes, that's it,” said Laura. I know watched the effect of her words. After
I'm foolish, but a pause she resumed by alluding to Lau
" It's much to confess it,” said Mrs. ra's offer to remain with her always,
Jaynes. “ Now that I've patiently heard without marrying ; and while poor Laura
all that you have to say, I wish to be listened with a feeling as if the very
heard a few words in favor of a dear earth was sinking beneath her feet, Mrs.
and wortlıy friend of mine, against whom Jaynes reminded her that she was a pen
you appear to entertain a groundless niless orphan, who had been maintained
antipathy." for years by the bounty of one upon
“ No, not groundless,” interposed Lau- whom she had no claim , except that she
ra . was the sister of his wife .
“ Well, I'll agree that a pale, studious “ I have no right, you know, my dear,"
face and blue spectacles are good reasons continued Mrs. Jaynes, “ to tell you
for hating a man . Now let me say a that you may stay here longer. Jabez,
1858.] Akin by Marriage. 285

doubtless, would bid you remain and Hunt loves you as well, or better, and
welcome, as he told you to come and offers you more than we have it in our
welcome. But young women are usu- power to bestow . Take the day for re
ally expected to marry , at or near your flection . To -morrow Mr. Hunt will be
age. It is probable, indeed I know, here. Think, my child, whether you
that, at the time you came, this event will be justified in rejecting this offer.
was thought of, and taken into account. Your refusal, bear in mind, imposes
Mr. Jaynes is Mr. Hunt's warm friend upon others a sacrifice of something
and admirer. He expects that you are more than childish whims and silly pre
going to marry this good friend. What judices. In order that you may have
will be his reflections when he learns time and opportunity to give this impor
that you prefer to remain here, a pen- tant matter due consideration, you had
sioner upon his income, rather than to better remain in your chamber. But
marry such a man as Mr. Hunt, whose don't fancy yourself a prisoner. If you
only demerits are his blue spectacles and choose to sce any one that calls, you can
pale complexion ? " do so. But, my dear, I cannot permit
Here Laura turned so white, and you to go and seek those who, from spite
looked so woful, that her tormentor and malice against me, would take de
paused, in apprehension that the poor light in giving you evil counsel.”
girl was going to swoon . With this sharp innuendo against Tira
Oh, my God ! what shall I do ? ” Blake, in which she thought she might
cried Laura, beating her palms together, now safely indulge, Mrs. Jaynes conclud
in sore distress. ed her speech and went out softly, leav
6
“ You know,” resumed Mrs. Jaynes, ing poor Laura in a stupor of despair,
watching her sister carefully, and speak- sitting with her bands clasped in her lap
ing softly, “ you know that Mr. Jaynes's and her head drooping on her bosom .
salary is not large. It used to be more At last, looking up with a glance so
than sufficient for our wants, but the woful that one would scarcely have
children are getting to be more ex- known her, Laura perceived she was
pensive every year. Their clothes cost alone. She rose, went to the door and
more, and the boys, at least, ought soon locked it, standing for a moment trem
to go away to school, and Jabez has set bling, until of a sudden she fell a -crying
his heart upon sending Newton to col- piteously, and began to walk to and fro
lege. If well, never mind , dear, I'll across her chamber, wringing her hands
say no more ; but when I think of this like one distraught, and sometimes throw
offer of Mr. Hunt,-such a good offer, ing herself upon the bed, wailing and
especially to one in your circumstances, moaning all the while as if her heart
from such a worthy, talented, pious young would break indeed. And, truly, she
clergyman, whose preference Julia Bram- had some reason for the violence of her
hallor Cornelia Bugbee, with their thou- grief. Not being a thoughtful person ,
sands, would be glad to win ,-who is go nor given to meditation, she had never
ing to be settled in a good old parish, before duly considered that her main
like Walbury, and receive at once a tenance was a matter of cost and calcu
salary almost as large, I dare say, as lation to those who provided it, nor re
Mr. Jaynes's, —I do say, Laura, that you flected that she had no rightful claim
ought to give better reasons for refusing upon thosc who gave her shelter, food ,
him, nay, for jilting him , after a two- and clothing. She had been thankful
years' engagement, than that his cheeks to her protectors for their kindness, but
are palc and his spectacles blue. We the sentiment she entertained for them
love you, Laura, and are willing to give was more like filial love than gratitude.
you a home and the best we can afford For the first time she realized that she
to eat and drink and wear , but Mr. was a pensioner on another's bounty,
286 Akin by Marriage. [ January,
and felt the sharp sting of conscious de- all,, nobody, except Elam Hunt, whom
pendence. she hated and loathed with all her heart,
At length, growing more calm after and the very thought of whose love
the first passionate outbreak of frantic made her shudder. What could she
sorrow had subsided , she dried her eyes do ? To stay and be a burden for her
and sat down on purpose to think. friends to support was worse than any
Poor child ! Serious deliberation was a thing. That, at least, she was resolved
new exercise to her mind. Besides, her to do no longer. If she were only strong
head ached, her brain seemed in a whirl, enough, she would go where nobody
and her heart was so full and heavy she knew her and work at housework , or in
wanted to do nothing but cry with all a factory, or anywhere. Oh, if she only
her might till the burden was gone. knew enough to teach school ! She
But think she must, and knitting her should like that. It would be so pleas
brows and stifling her sobs, she tried to ant to have the children love her, and
think. What could she do ? Oh, if she bring her flowers to put upon her desk !
could but ask Tira !But what good But, oh, dear ! she didn't know enough,
could Tira do ? What could she tell she feared . For all that she had gradu
her ? It was not her sister that was ated at the Academy, she never dared to
forcing her, but Fate itself ! All that write a letter without looking up all the
a

her sister had told her was truc, every hard words of it in the dictionary, to see
word. The tone of her voice, her man- how they were spelt ;-and parsing! and
ner, had been unusually kind and gentle. doing sums -oh, gracious ! she never
There was nothing she had said that she could teach school, —that was out of the
could be blamed for saying. Tira her- question !
self must admit that it was all true and At last, after a long fit of silent mus
reasonable , —but, oh ,how very dreadful ! ing, during which she had bit her lips,
Then she conjured up to view the image and frowned, and gazed abstractedly at
of Elan Hunt, - his lank, slim figure, ar-the wall, a gleam of hope lit up ber face,
rayed in sombre black , —his pale, cadav- soon brightening into a smile. She had
erous visage, spotted with pimples and bit upon a plan ! She could learn the
blue blotches of close-shaven beard,—his milliner's trade ! She had always been
spectral glance of admiration through handy with her needle, and liked noth
those detestable blue spectacles. She ing better than to arrange laces and
imagined that she felt the clammy ribbons and flowers. She could easily
touch of his long, skinny fingers, and learn to make and trim a bonnet, she
cold, Aabby palm . She reflected upon thought; at least, she could try. At first
the probability, nay, the certainty, that it would come hard to sit cooped up
she must marry this man, for whom she in those little back shops, sewing and
felt such an invincible repugnance, and stitching from morning till night; but it
in a frenzy of dismay and terror she was better than marrying Elam Hunt, or
screamed aloud and started up as if than eating other people's bread . Then
to fly. Then, recollecting herself, she she began to build castles in the air, as
sank down moaning . — Oh, heavens! she her custom was. She fancied herself a
thought, there was no escape, no help ! milliner's apprentice, working away at
How wretched she was ! how utterly bonnets and caps, among a group of
miserable ! all alone, alone, in such a other girls ,—sometimes rising to attend
dreary, lonesome world , with no home, upon a customer, or peeping out between
nor father, nor mother, nor brother ,- the folds of a curtain at people in the
with only a sister who had a husband and front shop. She wondered whether Cor
children, whom she loved, as she ought, nelia and Helen would be ashamed of
far better than she did her. There was knowing a milliner's apprentice, if they
nobody to whom she was the dearest of should chance to see her in Hartford .
1858.] Akin by Marriage. 287

What would her schoolmates say ? and and annoyed him in his moods of sad
would her hero despise a girl that worked ness and dejection. But what else could
for a livelihood ? Then she whimpered she do than solicit his aid ? The favor,
a little, thinking how loneson she would though small for him to grant, would be
be, for a while, among strangers ; but it of immense benefit to her, and the good
was a kind of lamentation that differed hearted Doctor would not be likely to
widely from the frantic weeping of the refuse. She would tell bim how friend .
inorning. Then, all at once, a doubt less she was, and beg him to help the
began to depress her new-born hopes. fatherless in her distress. She knew
Could she get a place ? She was a that he would not turn her away. At
stranger in Hartford , and beyond that all events , she could try.
city she darcd not send her thoughts. Coming at last to this conclusion, and
Could Tira get a place for her ? She wonderfully cheered and strengthened
feared not, for Tira herself seldom went by the purpose she had formed, she
to the city. But there was Doctor Bug- washed her face, arranged her dishev
bee, who knew a great many people elled hair, and smoothed her rumpled
there, and who was so rich and powerful, dress. Then sitting down behind the
that even in Hartford, though it was a window -curtain, she began to watch for
city, his word must have great influence. Cornelia, hoping her friend would not
Besides, the firm of Bugbee Brothers long delay her accustomed visit to the
purchased large quantities of goods at parsonage. But it happened that Cor
some of the great millinery shops. The nelia had that very day begun a novel, in
Doctor's own private custom was not three roluines, the heroine of which was
small, for Cornelia dressed as became represented to be a young lady whose
her condition, and even little Helen extreme beauty and amiable temper
scorned to wear a bonnet unless it came made her deserving of better treatment
from Hartford . Doctor Bugbee could than she received at the hands of the
help her to find a place. Doubtless he hard -hearted author, who suffered her
would be willing, nay, even glad, to as- to be cheated and bullied by a scheming
a

sist her in her trouble . At any rate , she and brutal guardian, to be slandered by
would ask him . But how was she to sec his envious daughter, persecuted by a
him ? He was not likely to call upon dissolute nobleman, haunted by a spec
her, unless she feigned sickness, and sent tre, shut up in a tower, exposed to mani
for him ; for her sister would not permit fold dangers, beset by robbers, abducted,
her to go to his house, where she would assaulted , barely rescued, and, finally,
be sure to see Tira. Besides, the Doc- even teased and tormented by the chosen
tor's manner had of late grown so distant lover of her heart, a jealous-pated fellow,
and forbidding, that she was a little fear- who was always making her miserable
ful of obtruding herself upon his notice. and himself ridiculous by his absurd sus
Though sorry for this change, she had picions and fractious behavior.
never laid it so much to heart as to be Sympathizing deeply with this dis
grieved or affronted ; for even his chil- tressed young woman , whose unexam
dren complained of his altered behav- pled misfortunes and troubles would have
ior, and all his friends had noticed the touched the heart of even a marble stat
gloomy expression which his face some- ue, Cornelia was weeping dolefully over
times wore . But now she troubled her- a page near the end of the second vol
self with wondering whether she had ume, where the lady's lover, in a fit of
given him any cause to be offended with senseless jealousy, tears her miniature
her. Perlaps her giddy nonsense and from his bosom , renounces her affection,
thoughtless gayety, which when he him- and leaves her swooning upon the floor.
self was cheerful and happy he had lis- Just then Helen rushed into her cham
tened to without displeasure, had vexed ber, with a summons from Laura to hasten
288 Spartacus. [ January,
at once to her side. For Laura, after ber friend , to whose chamber she found
long watching, had caught sight of Helen ready access in spite of some vague mis
jumping the rope on the grassplot, and givings in Mrs. Jaynes's mind. But,
by means of coughing and waving her shrewd as this lady was by nature , and
handkerchief from the window had at- apprehensive as she felt that some un
tracted the notice of the child , who, toward accident would prevent the ac
coming to the paling, had received the complishment of her cherished plans, she
message she forth with bore to Cornelia , never dreamed of the momentous results
adding to it the information that Laura's that were to follow this interview , appar
eyes appeared to be almost as red as Cor- ently so harmless, between Laura and
nelia's own. her friend ; nor would it be fitting to suf
Staying only to finish the volume, Cor- fer an account of so important a confer
nelia repaired to comfort and console ence to appear at the end of a chapter.
[ To be continued in the next Number. ]

SPARTACUS.

The Romans had many virtues, and likely to submit their necks readily to the
conspicuous amongst these was the vir- yoke. They rose several times in great
tue of impartiality. They treated every- masses, and contended for years on equal
body with equal inhumanity. They were terms with the legions. Some of their
as pitiless towards the humble as towards number exhibited the talents of states
the proud . The quality of mercy was men and soldiers, at the head of armies
utterly unknown to them . Their motto, more numerous than both those which
fought at Cannæ . One of them showed
“Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos, "
himself to be a born soldier, and caused
Fowell Buxton has happily translated , the greatest terror to be felt at Rome
“ They murdered all who resisted them , that had been known there since that
and enslaved the rest. " day on which Hannibal role up to the
But it was as slaveholders that the Colline Gate, and cast his javelin defiant
Romans most clearly exhibited their im- ly into that city which he himself never
partiality. They were above thosc mis- could enter.
erable subterfuges that are so common The treatment of their slaves by the
with Americans. They made slaves of Romans was not unlike that whích slaves
all, of the high as well as the low ,-of now experience. Some masters were
Thracians as well as Sardinians, of kind, and there are many facts which
Greeks and Syrians as readily as of show that the relations between master
Scythians and Cappadocians. and slave were occasionally of the most
The consequence of the modes by which amiable naturc . But these were excep
the Romans obtained their bondmen ,-by tional cases, the general rule being cru
war, by purchase, and by kidnapping,- elty, as it must be where so much power
affecting as they did the most cultivated is lodged in the hands of one class of
and the bravest races, necessarily made men, and the other has only a nominal
slavery a very dangerous institution . protection from the law. Even where
Greeks and Gauls, Thracians and Syr- cruelty takes no other form than that
ians, Germans and Spaniards were not involved in hard labor, the slave must
1858. ] Spartacus. 289

experience intolerable oppression. Now than other portions of the Roman domin
the Romans were the most avaricious ions. Upon the final expulsion of the
people that ever lived. They had a Carthaginians, about the middle of the
hearty love of'inoney for money's sake. second Punic War, great changes of
They would do anything for gold. Such property ensued. Speculators from Ita
men were not likely to let their slaves ly rushed into the island, “ who,” says
grow fat from light tasks and abundant Arnold, “ in the general distress of the
food; their food was light, and their tasks Sicilians, bought up large tracts of land
were heavy. So ill-fed were they that at a low price, or became the occupiers
they were compelled to rob on the high- of estates which had belonged to Sicilians
way , and were encouraged to do so by of the Carthaginian party , and had been
their owners. Indeed, much of the pri- forfeited to Rome after the execution or
vate economy of the Romans was found- flight of their owners . The Sicilians of
ed on cruelty to their slaves. Some, the Roman party followed the example,
who have come down to us as model and became rich out of the distress of
men , were infamous for their maltreat their countrymen . Slaves were to be
ment of their bondmen. The life of any had cheap; and corn was likely to find a
forcigner was of but little account with sure market whilst Italy was suffering
any Roman , but enslaved foreigners were from the ravages of war. Accordingly,
regarded as on a level with brutes. Many
a Sicily was crowded with slaves, employed
anecdotes are related of the ferocious dis- to grow corn for the great landed pro
regard of all humanity which the world's prietors, whether Sicilian or Italian, and
inasters manifested towards the servile so ill -fed by their masters that they soon
classes. There is a story told by Cicero, began to provide for themselves by rob
in one of the Verrine Orations, which bery. The poorer Sicilians were the
peculiarly illustrates this feature of the sufferers from this evil ‫ ;ܕ‬and as the mas
Roman character. The prætorian edicts ters were well content that their slaves
forbade slaves to carry arms. There should be maintained at the expense of
were no exceptions. A boar of great size others, they were at no pains to restrain
was once given to Lucius Doinitius, who their outrages. Thus, although nominally
was a Sicilian Prætor. Its size causedat peace, though full of wealthy proprie
him to ask by whom it was slain ; and on tors, and though exporting corn largely
being inforined that the hunter was a every year, yet Sicily was teeming with
shepherd and slave, be sent for him . evils, which, seventy or eighty years af
The slave, not doubting that he should ter, broke out in the horrible atrocities of
be rewarded for his bravery, hastened the Servile War." *
to present himself before the Prætor, who The Sicilian Servile War began B. C.
asked liim what he killed the animal with . 133 , only a few years after the destruc
“ With a spcar," was the answer ; where- tion of Carthage and Corinth, and when
upon the Prætor ordered that he should the military power of the republic was
be imniediately crucified . This was but probably at its height, though military
one of thousands of similar acts that were discipline may have been somewhat re
perpetrated by Romans through many laxed from the old standard. It lasted
generations. two or three years. The chief of the
The slaves, as we have remarked, oc- slaves had at one time two hundred thou
casionally revolted, and the efforts that sand followers, inclusive, probably, of
were found necessary to subdue them women and children . He was a Syr
rose sometimes to the dignity of .wars. ian of Apamca, named Eunus, and had
The first Servile War of the Romans oc- been a prophet and conjurer among the
curred in Sicily. There were various slaves. To his prophecies and tricks he
reasons why this fine island should be * Arnold , History of Rome, Vol. III. pp.
come the scene of scrvile wars sooner 317–318, London edition .
VOL . I. 19
290 Spartacus. [ January,
owed his elevation when the rebellion der home Lucullus from the East. In the
broke out. According to some accounts, war with Hannibal the Romans showed
he was rather a cunning than an able their fearlessness by sending troops to
man ; but it should be recollected that Spain while the Carthaginian with liis
his enemies only liave drawn his portrait. army was lying under their walls ; but
The victories he so often won over the they called troops and generals from
Roman forces are placed to the credit Spain to their assistance against the
of his lieutenant, a Cilician of the name Thracian gladiator. He must have been
of Cleon ; but he must have been a man a man of extraordinary powers to have
cf considerable ability to have maintain- accomplished so much with the means at
cd his position so long, and to have com- his disposal. It has been regarded as a
inanded the services of those said to have proof of the astonishing powers of Han
been his superiors. Cleon's superiority nibal as a commander, that he could
was probably only that of the soldier. keep together, and in effective condi
He fell in battle, and Eunus was made tion, an army composed of the outcasts,
prisoner, but died before he could be as it were, of many nations, and win
brought to punishment, — no doubt, to with it great victories, scattered over
-

the vast regret of his savage captors. a long period of time; yet this was
In the year B. c. 103 , another Servile less than was done by Spartacus. The
War broke out in Sicily, and was not Carthaginian, like Alexander, succeed
brought to an end until after four years ed to an army formed by his father,
of hard fighting. The leaders were Sal- next after himself the ablest man of the
vius, or Tryphon, an Italian , and Athe- age. The Thracian, without country or
nion , a Cilician, or Greek . Both showed home, and an outlaw from the beginning
considerable talent , but owed their learl- of his enterprise, had to create an army,
ership, Salvius to his knowledge of divina- and that out of the most heterogeneous
tion, and Athenion to his pretensions to and apparently the most unpromising
astrology. They were often successful , materials. The palm must be assigned
and it was not until a Consul had taken to the latter.
the field against them that the slaves To what race did Spartacus belong ?
were subdued, the chiefs liaving succes- We are told that he was a Thracian, his
sively fallen, and no one arising to make family being shephers. The Thracians
their place good. were a brave people, but by no means
The next great Servile War was on a remarkable for the highest intellectual
grander scale, though briefer, than either superiority; yet Spartacus was eminently
of the Sicilian contests. Its scene was a man of mind, with large views, and an
Italy, and it was conducted , on the part original genius for organization and war.
of the rebels, by the profoundest military Plutarch pays him the highest compli
genius ever encountered by the Romans, ment in his power, by admitting that he
with the exception, perhaps, of Ilannibal. deserved to be regarded as belonging to
We speak of SPARTACUS, who defeated the Hellenie race . He was, says the
inany Roman armies, and disputed with old Lifemaker, “ a man not only of great
the all-conquering republic the dominion courage and strength, but, in judgment
of the Italian Peninsula, and with it that and mildness of character, superior to his
of the civilized world . This war took condition , and more like a Greck than
place B. C. 73–71 , while Rome was en- one woulu expect from liis nation.” It is
gaged in hostilities with Sertorius and not impossible that he had Greek blood in
Mithridates; and it was brought to an his veins. Thrace was hard by Greece,
end only by the exertions of the ablest had many Greck cities, and its full
generals the republic then had ,—the great proportion of those Greek adventurers,
Ponipeius having been summoned from military and civil, who were to be found
Spain, and it being in contemplation to or- in every country and city, from Spain to
1858.] Spartacus. 291

Persia, from Gades to Ecbatana. What attend him to a happy termination .”

more probable than that among his an- She was the Thracian's wife, or mistress,
cestors were Grecks ? At the saine being connected with him by some ten
time it must be admitted that the Thra- der tie, and was with him when he sub
cians themselves were capable of pro- sequently escaped from Capua. In the
ducing eminent men , being a superior bloodly drama of the War of Spartacus
physical race, and prevented only by the hers is the sole relieving figure, and we
force of circumstances from attaining to would fain know more of her, for it could
a respectable position . They were re- have been no ordinary woman who was
nowned for soldierlike qualities, which loved by such a man .
caused the Romans to give them the The passion of the Romans for gladia
preference as gladiators, -a dubious hon- torial combats is well known . Not aa few
or, to say the best of it. persons followed the calling of gladiator
Ilow , and under what circumstances, trainers, and had whole corps of these
Spartacus became a gladiator, is a point doomed men, whom they let to those who
by no means clear. We cannot trust the wished to get up such shows. There
Roman accounts, as it was a meritorious were several schools of gladiators, the
thing, in the opinion of a Roman , for a chief of which were at Ravenna and
man to lie for his country, as well as to Capua, where garrisons were maiutained
die for it. Florus states, that he was to keep the pupils in subjection. Ac
first a Thracian mercenary, then a Ro cording to one account, Spartacus, while
man soldier, then a deserter and robber, on a predatory incursion, was made
and then , because of his strength, a glad- prisoner, and afterwards sold to Cneius
iator from choice. But, to say nothing Lentulus Batiatus, a trainer of gladiar
of the national prejudices of Florus, he tors, who sent him to bis school at Capua.
writes like a man who felt it to be a He was to have fought at Rome. But
particular grievance that Romans should he had higher thoughts than of submit
have been compelled to fight slaves, and ting to so degrading a destiny as the
particularly gladiators. This is in strik- being “ butchered to make a Roman
ing contrast with Plutarch, who was a holiday.” Most of his companions were
contemporary of Florus, but whose patri- Gauls and Thracians, the bravest of
otic pride was not wounded by the vic- men, who bore confinement with small
tories which the Thracian glarliator won patience. They conspired to make their
over Roman generals. Indeed, as he was escape,—the chief conspirators being
willing to admit that Spartacus ought to Spartacus and two others, who were sub
have been a Greck, we may suppose that sequently made his lieutenants,—Crixus,
he was pleased to read of his victories , a Gaul, and Enomaus, a Greek. Some
a not unnatural thing in a provincial, two hundred persons were in the conspir
and particularly in a Greek, who knew acy, but only a portion of them suc
o well what his country had once been . ceeded in breaking the school bounds.
Plutarch says not a word about the Thra- Florus says that not more than thirty
cian having been a soldier and a thief, got out, while Velleius makes the num
but introduces him with one of his good ber to have been sixty -four, and Plutarch
stories. “ They say,” he tells us, “ that seventy -eight. Having armed themselves
when Spartacus was first taken to Rome with spits, knives, and cleavers, from a
to be sold , a snake was seen folded overcook’s shop, they hastened out of Capua.
his face while he was sleeping, and a Passing along the Appian Way, they
woman , of the same tribe with Spartacus fell in with a number of wagons loaded
who was skilled in divination, and pos- with gladiators' weapons, which they
sessed by the mysterious rites of Dio seized, and were thus placed in good
nysus, declared that this was a sign of a fighting condition. Shortly after this
great and formidable power, which would they encountered a small body of sol
292 Spartacus. [ January,
diers, whom they routed, and whose longed to them . Instead of a leader of
arms they substituted for the gladiato- outlaws, he aspired to be the liberator
rial, deeming these no longer worthy of of the servile population of Italy. He
them . issued a proclamation, in which, while
They were now joined by a few others, calling upon his followers to remember
fugitives and mountaineers, with whom the multitudes who groaned in chains,
they took refuge in the crater of Ve- he urged the slaves to rise, pointing
suvius, then, as from time immemorial , out how strong they were and how
and for nearly a century and a half later, weak were their oppressors, maintain
inactive. Thence, under the leadership ing that the strength of the masters
of Spartacus and his lieutenants, Crixus lay in the blind and disgraceful sub
and ( Edomaus, they ravaged the coun mission of the slaves, at the same time
try ; but it is not probable that they declaring that the land belonged of right
caused much alarm , their number being to the bravest, —a sentiment as natural
only two hundred , and such collections and proper when uttered by a man in his
of slaves being by no means uncommon . situation as it is base when proceeding
The Romans little dreamed that they from a modern buccaneer, who has taken
were on the eve of one of the most ter- up arms, not to obtain his own freedom ,
rible of their many wars. Claudius Pul- but to enslave others. The whole ad
cher, one of the Prætors, was sent against dress is contemptuous towards the Ro
the “ robbers," as they were considered mans, though somewhat too rhetorical for
to be. He found them so advantageously a man in the situation of Spartacus. It
posted on the mountain, that, though is the composition of Sallust, but we may
superior to them in numbers in the ratio believe that it expresses the sentiments
of fifteen to one, he resolved to blo kade of Spartacus, as Sallust was not only his
them, and so compel them to descend to contemporary, but was too goo:) an art
the plain and fight at disadvantage, or ist to disregard kecping in what he wrote .
starve. But he was contending with Italy was at this time full of slaves,
a man of genius, against whom even many of whom must have been men of
Rome's military system could not then quite as much intelligence as the Ro
succeed . He despised his enemy; -a sort mans, having been made captives in war.
of gratification which to those indulging The free population of the Peninsula had
in it generally costs very dear. Spar- almost entirely disappeared. Two gen
tacus caused ropes to be maile of vine erations before, Tiberius Gracchus had
branches, with the aid of which he and pointed to the miserable condition of Ita
his followers lowered themselves to the ly, and to the fact that the increase of
base of the mountain, at a point which the slave population had caused the Ital
had been left unguarded by the Romans ian yeomanry to become almost extinct.
because considered inaccessible by the In the years that had passed since his
red -tapist who commanded them, and murder the work of extinction had gone
consequently affording a capital outlet on at an accelerated rate , the Social
for bold men under a daring leader. War and the Wars of Sulla and Marius
In the dead of night the gladiators stole baving aided slavery to do its perfect
round to the rear of the Roman camp, work. In this way had perished that
and assailed it. Taken by surprise and splendid rural population from which the
heavy with sleep, the Romans were Roman legionary infantry had been con
routed like sheep, and their arms and scribed , and which had enabled the aris
baggage passed into the hands of the tocratical republic to baſe the valor of
despised enemy. Samnium , the skill of Pyrrhus, and the
Spartacus saw now that it was time genius of Hannibal. Even so early as
for him and his comrades to assume a in the first of the Eastern wars of the
higher character than had hitherto be- Romans, immediately after the second
1858. ] Spartacus. 293

defeat of Carthage, there were indica- and was soon joined by thousands of
tions that the supply of Roman soldiers their number, men whose modes of life
was giving out An anecdote of the rendered them the very best possible
younger Scipio shows what must have material for soldiers, provided they could
been the character of a large part of be induced to submit to the restraints of
the Roman population more than sixty discipline. They were strong, hardy,
years before the War of Spartacus. athletic, and active, and full of hatred of
When he declared that Tiberius Grac- their masters. It shows the superiority
chus had rightly been put to death, and of the Thracian that he could prevail
an angry shout at the brutal speech caine upon them to act in a regular manner.
trom the people, he turned to them and He formed them into an army, the chief
exclaimed, “ Peace ,ye stepsons of Italy ! officers being the men who had escaped
Remember who it was that brought you from Capua in his company. This army
in chains to Rome ! ” had some discipline, which was the inore
The country being full of slaves and easily acquired because many of the men
the children of slaves, Spartacus bad lit- were originally soldiers, captives of the
tle diſhculty in obtaining recruits. Apu- Roman sworu . But the hatred of all in
lia was particularly fruitful of insurgents. it to the Romans, and their knowledge
In that country the vices of Roman that they had to choose between victory
slavery were displayed in all their naked and the cruelest forms of death known
hideousness, and the Apulian shepherds to the cruelest of conquerors, made them
and herdsmen had a reputation for law- the most reliable military force then to
lessness that has never been surpassed. be found in the world.
Yet this was the consequence, not the With such an army, thus composed,
cause, of their bondage. It is related thus animated, and thus led, Spartacus
that soine of them having asked their mas- commenced that war to which he has
ter for clothing, he exclaimed, “ What ! given his name. Bursting upon Lower
are there no travellers with clothes on ? ” Italy, the most horrible atrocities were
• The atrocious hint, ” says Liddell , “ perpetrated, the rich landholders being
was

soon taken ; the shepherd slaves of Low- subjected to every species of indignity
er Italy became banditti, and to travel and cruelty, in accordance with that law
through Apulia without an armed retinue of retaliation which was accepted and
was a perilous adventure. From assail- recognized by all the ancient worlul, and
ing travellers, the marauders began to which the modern has not entirely abro
plunder the smaller country -houses ; and gated. Towns were captured and de
all but the rich were obliged to desert stroyed,* and the slaves everywhere lib
the country, and flock into the towns.
* These ravages seem to have made a great
So early as the year 183 B. C., seven impression on the Romans, and were by them
thousand slaves in Apulia were con long remembered. Forty years later Horace
demned for brigandage by a Prætor sent alludes to them , in that Ode which he wrote
specially to restore order in that land of on the return of Augustus from Spain ( Carm .
pasturage. When they were not em III. xiv. 19 ). He calls to his young slave to
ployed upon the hills, they were shut up fetch him a jar of wine that had seen the Mar
sian War, “ if there could be found one that
in large, prison -like buildings , ( ergastu- had escaped the vagabond Spartacus." The
la.) where they talked over their wrongs, manner in which he, the son of a libertinus,
and formed schemes of vengeance.” * speaks of Spartacus, is not only amusing as
The century and more between this date an instance of foolish pride, but is curious as
and the appearance of Spartacus had not illustrating a change in Roman ideas that was
improved the condition of the Apulian working ont more important resultsthan
could have followed from all the acts of the
slaves. He found them ripe for revolt, first two Caesars, though perhaps it was in
some sense connected with, if not dependent
* Liddell, History of Rome, Vol. II. p. 144. upon , their legislation.
294 Spartacus. [ January,
erated to swell the conquering force . itary principle of cutting up an enemy
Spartacus is said to have sought to mod- in detail, Spartacus fell upon a Roman
erate the fury of his followers, and we detachment, two thousand strong, and
can believe that he did so without sup destroyed it. Shortly after this, the Ro
posing that he was much above his age man general succeeded, as he thought, in
in humane sentiment. He saw that ex- getting him into a trap. The servile en
cesses were likely to demoralize his army, campment was upon a piece of ground
and so render it unfit to meet the legions hemmed in on one side by mountains, on
which it must sooner or later encounter. the other by impassable waters, and the
Much as Spartacus had done, and sig. Romans were about to close up the only
nal as had been his successes, it was not outlets with some of those grand works
yet the opinion at Roine that he was a to which they owed so many of their
formidable foe. The government de- conquests, when, one night, Spartacus
spatched Publius Varinius Glaber to act silently retreated, leaving his camp in
against him, at the head of ten thousand such a state as completely deceived the
men .
This seems a small force, yet it enemy, who did not discover what had
was not much smaller than the army happened until the next morning, when
with which, three or four years later, Lu- the gladiators were beyond their reach.
cullus overthrew the whole military power This masterly retreat was followed up
of the Armenian monarchy ; and it was by a brilliant surprise of a division of
half as large as that with which Cæsar the Roman aring under the command of
changed the fate of the world at Pharsa- Cossinius. The night was just setting
lia. The Romans probably thought it in, and the soldiers were resting from
strong enough to subdue all the slaves in their day's march and frein the labors of
Italy , and Varinius sufficiently skilful to forming the encampment, when the Thra
defeat their leaders and send them to cian fell upon them . Thus suddenly at
Rome in chains. But they were to have tacked, they fed, without making any
a rough awakening from their dreams of show of resistance . - abandoning every
invincibility, though some early successes thing to the assailants. Cossinius him
of Varinius for a time apparently justified self, who was bathing, had time only to
their confidence. escape with leis life. The Romans rallied ,
The army of Spartacus numbered forty a battle ensued , and they were routed ,
thousand men, but it was poorly armed , Cossinius being among the slain. This
and its discipline was very imperfect action took place not far from the Au
It still lacked, to use a modern term , fidus, which had witnessed the slaughter
“ the baptism of fire,” — never yet having of Cannx.
been matched in the open field against a Spartacus now considered his army
regular force. Its arms were chiefly ag- fairly “ blooded . ” It had routed a Ro
ricultural implements, and wooden pikes ! ent, and defeated a sma !!
man detac m
that had been made by hardening the army. Two Roman camps had falle?
points of stakes with fire. Spartacus into its hands, under circumstances that
resolved upon retreating into Lucania ; gave indications of superior generalslip ,
but the Gauls in his army, headed by and several towns had been stormed .
his lieutenant Crixus, pronounced this Though still deficient in arms, he resolved
levision cowarılly, separated themselves to attack Varinius. Sallust represents
from the main body, attacked the Ro- him as addressing his army before the
mans, and were utterly ronted. The battle , and telling them that they were
retreat to Lucania was then made in about to enter, not upon a single action ,
per:ect safety, and even with glory, but upon a long war, —that from success.
apart from the skill with which it was then woulil follow a series of victories:
conducted . Watching his opportunity, and that therein lay their only salvation
and showing that he un lerstood the mil- from a death at once cxcruciating and
1858.] Spartacus. 295

infamous. They must, he said, live up- kept a look -out. There was some skir
on victory after victory, — an expression mishing, but no fighting on a large scale.
that showed he had a clear comprehen. This did not suit Spartacus, who had be
sion of the nature of his situation. In come confident in himself and his men.
the battle that followed , Varinius was He desired hattle, but wished the Romans
beaten, unhorsed, and compelled to fly should take the initiative, and was con
for his life. All his personal goods fell vinced that the near approach of winter
into the hands of Spartacus. His lic- would compel them soon to fight or to re
tors, with the fasces, shared the same trcat. To encourage them, he foigned
fate. Spartacus assumed the dress of fear, and commenced a retrograde move
the Roman, and all the ensigns of au- ment ; but no sooner had the clated
thority. He has been censured for this ; Romans advanced in pursuit than be
but a little reflection ought to convince turned upon them , and they were com
every one that he did not act from van- pelled to fight under circumstances that
ity, but from a profound appreciation of made defcat certain. This second rout
the state of things in Italy. The slaves, of Varinius was total, and we hear no
of which his army was composed, were more of himn .
accustomed to see the emblems of au- Never had there been a more success
thority with which he was now clothed ful campaign than that which Spartacus
and surrounded in the possession of their had just closed . Ilis force had been
masters alone ; and when they beheld increased from less than one hundred
them on and about their chief, they men to nearly one hundred thousand .
were not only reminded of the govern- Ile had proved bimself more than the
ing power, but also of the overthrow of equal of the generals who had been
those who had theretofore monopolized it. sent against him, both in strategy and in
Spartacus was a statesman ; and knew arms. He had fought three great bat
how to operate on the minds of the rude tles, and numerous lesser actions , and
masses who followed him and obeyed his had been uniformly successful . Like
orders . Carnot, he hail " organized victory."
The defeat of Varinius left the whole A larve part of Italy was at liis com
of Lower Lucania at the mercy of the mand, and, under any other circum
gladiators. Spartacus now established stances than those which existed, or
posts at Metapontum and at Thurii. against any other foc than Rome, he
Here he labored, with unceasing energy would probably have found little diffi
and industry, to organize and discipline culty in establishing a powerful state, the
his men . Adopting various measures to origin of which would have been far
prevent them from becoming enervated more respectable than of that with which
through the abundance in which they he was contending. But he was a states
were reveiling, he prohibited the use of man, and knew, that, brilliant as were
money among them , and gave all that his successes, he had no chance of ac
he himself had to relieve those who had complishing anything permanent within
suffered from the war. Some of his olli- the Peninsula . He was fighting, too,
cers are said to have followed his ex- foz freedom , not for dominion . His
ample in making so great a sacrifice for plan was to get out of Italy. Two
the common good. courses were open to him . He might re
Towards the close of the ycar Varinius treat to the extremity of the Peninsula .
had succeeded in getting another army cross the strait that separates it froni
on foot. With this he resolved to watch Sicily, and renew the servile wars of that
the enemy, — repeated defeats having island ; or he might march north, force
-

made the Romans cautious, though they his way out of Italy, and so with most of
were not even yet seriously alarmed. He his followers reach their homes in Gaul
formed and fortified a camp, whence he and Thrace . The latter course was de
296 Spartacus. [ January,
termined upon ; but the more hot-head- place. Lentulus was determined not to
ed portion of his men , the Gauls, were fight until Gellius — whose victory he
opposed to it, and resolved to march knew of — should have come up ; and
upon Rome. A division of the victori- Spartacus was equally determined that
ous army ensued . The larger number, fight he should before the junction could
under Spartacus, proceeded to carry out be effected. He succeeded in blocking
the wise plan of their leader, but the up the road by which Gellius was ad
minority refused to obey him . We have vancing, unknown to Lentulus, and then
seen, that, at the very outset of his enter- offered the latter battle. Supposing that
prise, Spartacus encountered opposition his colleague would join him in the
from the Gauls in his army, who were course of the action , the Roman ac
ever for rash measures, and that, sepa- cepted the challenge and was beaten .
rating themselves from their associates, The victors then marched to meet Gel
under the lead of Crixus, they had been lius, who was served after the same
defeated . Crixus rejoined his old chief manner as Lentulus. Spartacus was
tain , and did good service ; but he and the only general who ever defeated two
his countrymen , untaught by experience, great Roman armies, each headed by a
and inflated with a notion of invincibil. Consul, on the same day, and in dif
ity , on what founded, it would be hard ferent battles. Hannibal's Austerlitz,
to say,—would not aid Spartacus in his Cannæ, approaches nearest to this ex
prudent attempt to lead his followers out ploit of the Thracian ; but on that field
of Italy. Rome was their object, and, to the two consular armies were united un
the number of thirty thousand, they sep der the command of Varro.
arated themselves from the main army. These great successes were soon fol
At first, the event seemed to justify their lowed by the defeat of two lesser Roman
decision. Meeting a Roman army, com- armies, combined under the lead of the
manded by the Prætor Arrius, on the Prætor Manlius and the Proconsul Cas
borders of Samnium, the Gauls put it to sius. This last victory not only left the
rout, and the victory of Crixus was not whole open country at the command of
less decisive than any of those which Spartacus, but also the road to Rome,
had been won by Spartacus. But this upon which city be now resolved to
splendid dawn was soon overcast. Crix- march. It would have been wiscr, had
us was a drunkard, and, while sleeping he persevered in his original plan , the
off one of his fits of intoxication , he was execution of which his victories must
set upon by аa Roman army under the have made it easy to carry out. But
Consul Gellius. He was killed , and his perhaps success had its usual effect, even
followers either shared his fate or were on his mind, and blinded him to the
totally dispersed. This was the first impossibility of permanent triumph in
great victory won by the Romans in the Italy. He winnowed his army, dismiss
war.
ing all his soldiers except such as were
The defeat of Varinius aroused the distinguished by their bravery, their
Roman government to see that their strength, and their intelligence. In or
enemy was not to be despised , re der that his march might be swift, he
voltal slave though he was, they were caused all the superfluous baggage to be
compelled to pay him the respect of destroyed. Every beast of burden that
making prodigious efforts to effect his could be dispensed with was slain . His
destruction . The Consuls Gellius and prisoners were disposed of after the same
Lentulus were charged with the conduct fashion . In a modern general such an
of the war . The former overthrew the act would be utterly without excuse .
Gauls. The latter followed Spartacus, But it was strictly in accordance with
and came up with bim in Etruria. the laws of ancient warfare, and Sparta
Here a contest of pure generalship took cus probably felt far more regret at
1858.] Spartacus. 297

sacrificing bis beasts of Lurden than he than a match for the whole power of
experienced in consenting to, if he did Rome, contending as the republic then
not order, the butchery of some thou- was with Mithridates, and blecding still
sands of men whom he must have looked from the wounds inflicted by Marius and
upon as so many brutes. Sulla, as well as from the blows of Spar
Proceeding to the south, Spartacus fell tacus. Sicily, too, was then in a state
in with a great Roman army led by Ar- which promised well for the design of
rius, and a battle was fought near An- the Thracian . Verres was ruling over
cona, in which victory was true to the the island ,—and how he ruled it Cicero
gladiator. The Romans were not only has told us. Had the victorious Thra
beaten, their army was utterly destroyed ; cian entered the island, both the free
a result which they seem to have felt to population and the slaves would have
be so shameful, that they madle no apolo risen against the Romans. A new state
gies for it. Why, atter this signal vic- might have been formed , strong both in
tory, Spartacus did not forthwith carry fleets and in armies, and compelled from
out his grand design of attacking Rome, the very nature of its origin to contend
-a design every way so worthy of his to the death with its old oppressors.
genius, and which alone could give him a Whatever the result, it is certain that a
chance of achieving permanent success long Sicilian war, like that which the Ro
after he had abandoned the idea of for- mans had been compelled to wage with
cing his way out of Italy by a northern the Carthaginians, would have changed
march, - can never be known. It is the course of history, by directing the
supposed to have been in consequence of attention and the energies of such men
information that circumstances had now as Crassus, Pompeius, and Cæsar to very
placed it in his power to effect a pas- different fields from those on which their
sage into Sicily, a project which he had fame and power were won.
regarded with favor at an earlier period. But it was not to be. There was work
At this time the Cilician pirates bad the for Rome to do, which could be done by
command of the Mediterrancan, which no other nation. The power that had
they held until they were conquered , been found superior to Hannibal was not
some years later, by Pompeius. It was to fall before Spartacus, or even to have
by the aid of these men that Sparta- its course stayed materially by his vic
cus cxpected to carry his arıny into Si- tories. He marched to the foot of Italy,
cily. They had shipping in abundance, on the shore of the strait, where he ex
and in aa few days they could have con- pected to find his supposed naval allies.
veyed a hundred thousand men across He was disappointed . They, impolitic
the narrow strait that separates Sicily no less than faithless, broke their engage
from Italy: This they agreed to do, ment after they had pocketed the sum
and were paid in advance by Spartacus, agreed upon for their services. It was
though it is probable that he relied less impossible for Spartacus to carry out his
upon that payment for their assistance design ; for not only had he no vessels,
but his followers were, it is altogether
than upon the palpable fact that their in-
terests were the same as his own. The probable, incapable of building them .
pirates were on the sea what the gladia- The Romans, too , must have had ships
torial army was on land. They were the in the strait, and a very few would have
victims of Roman oppression, and had been found enough to keep it clear of
become outlaws because the world's law the unskilful gladiators, even hail the
was against them . A union of their latter had the time and the means to
fleets, which numbered more than a construct boats.
thousand vessels, with the army of Spar- After the defeat of the Romans under
tacus, in the harbors and on the fields of Arrius, the Senate had called Crassus to
Sicily, would perhaps have been more the chief command, resolving to make
298 Spartacus. [ January,
an berculean effort to destroy their terri- industry of slaves to account. He was
ble enemy. The accounts are somewhat the wealthiest citizen of the republic.
confused, but, according to Plutarch, One can understand how indignant such
Crassus commenced operations against a person must have felt at the audacity
Spartacus before the latter marched for of the gladiator and his followers. As a
Sicily. He sent one of his lieutenants, slaveholder, as a man of property, as a
Munumius, to follow and harass the gladi- lover of law and order, he was ( 01
ators, but with orders to avoid a general cerned at so very disorderly a specta
engagement. The lieutenant disobeyed cle as that of slaves subverting all the
his orders, fought a battle, and was de- laws of the republic ; as a Roman, he
feated. Not a few of his men threw felt that abhorrence for slaves which was
away their arms, and fled , - an uncom common to the character. Here were
mon thing with a Roman army. The motives enough to bring out the powers
victors continued their march, but, as we of any man, if powers he had in lim ;
have seen, failed in their main object. and it does not follow that because Cras
Spartacus then took up a position in sus was very rich he was therefore aa fool.
the territory of Rhegium , which is over Ile was a man of consummate talents,
against Sicily. Ile must have been con- and at this particular time was probably
vinced by this time that the crisis of the most influential citizen of Rome. The
his fortune had arrived , and though he Romans had confidence in him , as the
would not even then entirely give up erabodiinent of the spirit of supremacy
all idea of crossing over into the island by which they were so completely ani
that lay within sight of his camp, he pre mated . The event showed that their
pared to meet the coming storm , which confidence was not misplaced.
had been for some time gathering in his The army of Crassus was two hundred
rear. Accordingly he faced about, and thousand strong, and having restored its
commenced a game of generalship with discipline by examples of great severity,
Crassus, who was now in person at the he marched to meet Spartacus; but on
head of the Roman army: * arriving in front of the latter's position ,
Of all men then living, Crassus was he would not attack it, while Spartacus
best entitled to command an army em- showed an equal unwillingness to fight
ployed in fighting revolted slaves. If The Roman determined to blockade the
not the greatest slaveholder in Rome, he enemy. As they had the sca on one side,
was the most systematic of the class of and that was held by a fleet, he com
orners, and knew best how to turn the menced a line of works, the completion
* It is probable that justice has never been which takes its name from the Colline Gate,
done to Crassus as a military man . Roman and which laid the Roman world at the feet
writers were not likely to deal fairly with a of Sulla . Pontius Telesinus bad marched
man who closed his career so fatally to him upon Rome, with the intention of " destroy
self, and so disgracefully in every way to his ing the den of the wolves of Italy, " and Sulla
country. It was his misfortune -- a misfor arrived to the city's rescue but just in time.
tune of his own creating - to lead the finest In the battle that immediately followed, Sul
Roman army that had ever been seen in the la, at the head of the left wing of his army,
East to destruction, in an unjust attack on was completely defeated , while the right
the Parthians. Had he succeeded , the injus. wing, commanded by Crassus, was as com
tice of his course would have been overlooked pletely victorious. Talent must have had
by his countrymen ; but they never could something to do with Crassus's success ,
forgive his defeat. Yet it is certain that this which enabled Sulla to retrieve his fortues,
man, who has come down to iis as u contempt. and to triumplı over the Marian party. One
ible creature, having small claim to consider hundred thousand men are said to have fallen
ation beyond what he derived from his enor in this battle. The varice of Crassus and
mous possessions, not only exhibited eminent his want of popular manners were fatal to
military ability in the War of Spartacus, but, him in life, and his defeat left him no friends
when a young man, won that great battle in death .
1858.] Spartacus. 299

of which would have rendered it impos- mutinies in his army. The Gauls again
sible for the gladiators to escape. These rebelled against bis authority, and left
works were on the usual Roman scale, him . Crassus concentrated his whole
and consisted principally of walls and force in an attack on the seceders, and a
ditches, a hundred thousand men being battle followed which Plutarch says was
employed in their construction . So clev- the most severely contested of the war.
crly did Crassus conceal what he was The Romans remained masters of the
about, that it was not until he had al- field, more than twelve thousand of the
most accomplished his design that Spar- Gauls being slain , of whom only two
taius discovered the intention of his foc. were wounded in the back , the rest fall
The emergency was suited to his genius, ing in the ranks. Spartacus retreatedl
and he was not unequal to it. He be- to the mountains of Petelia, closely fol
gan a series of attacks on the Romans, lowed by Roinan detachments. Turning
harassing them perpetually, retarding upon them , he drove them back ; but this
their labors, and drawing their attention last gleam of success led to his destruc
from that point of their line by which be tion. Ilis policy was to avoid аa battle,
purposed to estricate his army. At last, but his men would not listen to his pru
on a night when a terrible snow -storm dent counsels, and compelled him to face
as
was raging, le led his men to a place about and march against Crassus. This
where the Roman works were yet incom- was what the Roman desired ; for Pom
plete, the snow enabling them to march prius was bringing up an army from
noiselessly. When they reached the Spain, and would be sure to reap all
line, the immense ditches seemed to bar the honors of the war, were it to be
thcir further advance ; but they set reso- prolonged .
lutely at work to fill them . Earth, snow, Some accounts represent Spartacus as
fagots, and dead bodies of men and anxious for battle. Whether he was so
beasts were hastily thrown into them ; or not, he maile every preparation that
and across this singular bridge the whole became a good general. The armies
army poured into the country, leaving met on the Silarus, in the northern part
the Roman camp behind, and having of Lucania ; and the battle which fol
rendered nugatory all the laborious dig- lowed , and which was to finish this re
ging and trenching of the legions. markable war, was fought not far from
It was not until the next morning that where the traveller now scos the noble
Crassus discovered what had been done, ruins of Parstum . Spartacus made his
and how thoroughly he had been out- last speech to his soldiers, warning them
generalled by Spartacus. But he had of what they would have to expect, if
no room for vexation in his mind. He they should fall alive into the bands of
was so frightened as a Roman citizen, their old masters. By way of practical
that he could not feel mortificd as a Ro- commentary on his text, he caused a
man soldier. He took counsel of his cross to be erected on a height, and to
fears, and did that which he had cause that cross was nailed a living Roman,
both to be ashamed of and to regret in whose agonics were visible to the whole
after days. He wrote to the Senate, army. Spartacus then ordered his horse
stating that in his opinion not only to be brought to him in front of the
should Pompeius be summoned home army, and slew the animal with his own
from Spain, but Lucullus also from the hands. “ I am determined ,” he said to
East, to aid in putting down an enemy his men , " to share all your dangers.
who was unconquerable by ordinary Our positions shall be the same. If we
means . A short time sufficed to show are victorious, I shall get horses enough
how indiscreetly for his own fame he from the foe. If we are beaten, I shall
had acted ; for Spartacus was unable to need a horse no more . " *
follow up his success, in consequence of * When the Earl of Warwick, the King
300 Who paid for the Prima Donna ? [ January,
The battle that followed was the most killed ;-Livy puts their killed at forty
severely contested action of that warlike thousand . The Roman slain numbered
period, which, extending through two twenty thousand, and they had as many
generations, saw the victories of Marius more wounded . Only six thousand pris
over the Northern barbarians at its com oners fell into the hands of Crassus,
mencement, and Pharsalia and Munda who caused the whole of them to be
and Philippi at its close. The insur- crucified , —the crosses being placed at
gents attacked with great fury, but with intervals on both sides of the Appian
method , Spartacus leading the way at Way, between Capua and Rome, and
the head of a band of select followers, the whole Roman army being marched
thus acting the part of a soldier as well through the horrible lines. A boily of
as of a general. The Romans steadily five thousand fugitives, who sought ref
resisted , — and the slaughter was great uge in the north, were intercepted by
on both sides. At last, victory began Pompeius on his homeward march from
to incline towards the gladiators, when Spain, and slaughtered to a man.
Spartacus fell, and the fortune of the Thus fell Spartacus, and far more no
day was changed. He had made a bly than either of the great republican
fierce charge on the Romans, with the chiefs whose deaths were so soon to
intention of cutting his way to Crassus. follow . Pompeius, who boasted that he
Two centurions had fallen by his sword , had cut up the war by the roots, ran
and a number of inferior men , when away from Pharsalia, without an effort
he was himself wounded in one of his to retrieve his fortunes, though the force
thighs. Falling upon one knee, he still opposed to him in the battle was only
continued to fight, until he was over- half as large as his own , and he had still
powered and slain. The battle was abundant resources for future operations.
maintained for some time longer, and Crassus, who claimed to have conquered
ended only with the destruction of the Spartakus, and who not unreasonably
insurgents, thirty thousand of whom were resented the pretensions of Pompeius,
maker, killed his horse in front of the Yorkist fell miserably in Parthia, after having
army, at the battle of Towton, ( fought on led the Romans to the most fatal of
Palm Sunday, 1461 , ) he little know that he their fields except Cannæ . Wanting
was imitating the action of a general of re- the nerve to die sword in hand in the
volted slaves, more than fifteen centuries
midst of his foes, like Spartacus, he
carlier. Warwick is said to have done the consented to adorn the triumph of those
same thing at the battle of Barnet, the last of
his fields, where he was defeated and slain , foes, and perished as ignominiously as
fighting for the House of Lancaster. the great gladiator gloriously.

WHO PAID FOR THE PRIMA DONNA ?

I.
help making great allowances for Don
“ If anything could make a man for Giovanni, after seeing her in Zerlina.
give himself for being sixty years old ,” She was beyond imagination piquante
said the Consul, holding up his wine- glass and delicious.”
between his eve and the setting sun,-for The Consul, as my readers may have
66
it was summer -time, — “ it would be that partly inferred, was not a Roman Consul,
he can remember M- in her divine nor yet a French one. He had had the
sixteenity at the Park Theatre, thirty honor of representing this great republic
odd years ago. Egad, Sir, one couldn't at one of the Hanse Towns,—I forget
1858.] Who paid for the Prima Donna ? 301

which ,-in President Monroe's time. I faith of our fathers with the Cambridge
don't recollect how long he held the Platform , and had never given in to the
office, but it was long enough to make later heresies which have crept into the
the title stick to him for the rest of his communion of good-fellowship from the
life with the tenacity of a nilitia colo South of France and the Rhine.
nelcy or village diaconate. The coun " A glass of Champagne," he would
try people round about used to call him say, “ is all well enough at the end of
" the Counsel,” which, I believe , -for I dinner, just to take the grease out of one's
-

am not very fresh from my school-books, - throat, and get the palate ready for the
was etymologically correct enough, how- more serious vintages ordained for the
ever orthoepically erroneous. Ile had solemn and deliberate drinking by which
not limited his European life, however, man justifies his creation ; but Madeira,
within the precinct of his Hanseatic con- Sir, Maileira is the only stand -by that
sulship, but had dispersed himself very never fails a man and can always be
promiscuously over the Continent, and depended upon as something sure and
had seen many cities, and the manners of steadfast .”
many men—and of some women ,-sing- I confess to having fallen away myself
ing -women, I mean, in their public char- from the gracious doctrine and works to
acter ; for the Consul, correct of life as which he had held so fast; but I am no
of ear, never sought to undeify his divini- bigot,—which for a heretic is something
ties by pursuing them from the heaven of remarkable, —and hail no scruple about
the stage to the purgatorial internediacy uniting with him in the service he pro
of the coulisses, still less to the lower posed , without demur or protestation as
depth of disenchantment into which too to form or substance. Indeed, he dis
many of them sunk in their private life. armed fanaticism by the curious care he
66
Yes, Sir ," he went on, “ I have seen bestowed on making his works conform
and heard them all,—Catalani, Pasta, able to the faith that was in him ; for,
Pezzaroni, Grisi, and all the rest of them, partly by inheritance and partly by in
-even Sonntag,—though not in her very dustrious pains, his old house was un
best estate ; but I give you my word dermined by a cellar of wine such as
there is none that has taken lodgings is seldom seen in these days of modern
here,” tapping his forehead, “ so perma- degeneracy. He is the last gentleman,
nently as the Signorina G-, or that I that I know of, of that old school that
can see and hear so distinctly, when I am used to import their own wine and lay
in the mood of it, by myself. Rosina, it down annually themselves,—their bins
Desdemona, Cinderella, and, as I said just forming a kind of vinous calendar sug
now, Zerlina,-she is as fresh in them all gestive of great events. Their degene
to my inind's eye and ear, as if the Park rate sons are content to be furnished, as
Theatre had not given way to a cursed they want it, from the dubious stores of
shoc -shop, and I had been hearing her the vintner, by retail.
there only last night. Let's drink her “ I suppose it was her youth and beauty,
memory,” the Consul added, half in Sir,” I suggested, “ that made her so re
mirth and half in melancholy, -a mood memberable to you. You know she was
to which he was not unused, and which barely turned seventeen when she sung
did not ill become him . in this country.”
Now no intelligent person , who knew “ Partly that, no doubt,” replied the
the excellence of the Consul's wine, could Consul, “ but not altogether, nor chiefly.
refuse to pay this posthumous honor to No, Sir, it was her genius which made her
the harinonious shade of the lost Muse. beauty so glorious. She was wonderfully
The Consul was an old -fashioned man handsome, though . She was a phantom
in his tastes, to be sure , and held to the of delight, as that Lake fellow says," — it
old religion of Madeira which divided the was thus profanely that the Consul des
302 Vi ko paid for the Prima Donna ? [ January ,
ignated the poct Wordsworth, whom he for which he had sold his daughter, and
could not abide, — " and the best thing he that M. M- got his wife on false pre
ever said, by Jore ! " tences. ”
“ And did you never see her again ? ” Not altogether so," returned the Con
I inquired . sul. “ I happen to know all about that
“ Once, only,” he answered,—" eight or matter from the best authority. She
nine years afterwards, a year or two be- was obtained on false pretences, to be
fore she died . It was at Venice, and in sure, but it was not G - that suffered
Norma. She was different, and yet not by them . M. M- , moreover, never
changed for the worse. There was an paid the price agreed upon , and yet
indescribable look of sadness out of her G- got it for all that.”
eyes, that touched one oddly and fixed “ Indeed ! ” I exclaimed , “ it must
itself in the memory . But she was some- have been a neat operation. I cannot
thing apart and by herself, and stamped exactly see how the thing was done; but
herself on one's mind as Rachel did in I have no doubt a tale hangs thereby,
Camille or Phèdre. It was true genius, and a good one. Is it tellable ? ”
and no imitation, that made both of them “ I see no reason why not,” said the
what they were . But she actually had Consul ; “ the sufferer made no secret
the physical beauty which Rachel only of it, and I know of no reason why I
compelled you to think she had by the should. Mynheer Van Holland told me
force of her genius and consummate dra- the story himself, in Amsterdam , in the
matic skill, while she was on the scene year ' Thirty -five.”
before you ." “ And who was he ? " I inquired, “ and
“ But do you rank Mwith Rachel what had he to do with it ? ”
as a dramatic artist ? ” I asked. “ I'll tell you,” responded the Consul,
“ I cannot tell,” he answered ; “ but if filling his glass and passing the bottle,
she had not thic studied perfection of “ if you will have the goodness to shut
Rachel, which was always the sanie and the window behind you and ring for
could not be altered without harn, she can :lles ; for it gets chilly here among
had at least a capacity of impulsive self- the mountains as soon as the sun is
adaptation about her which made her for down . "
the time the character she personated , I beg your pardon , - did you make a
not always the same, but such as the remark ?-Oh, what mountains ? You
woman she represented might have been must really pardon me ; I cannot give
in the shifting phases of the passion that you such a clue as that to the identity of
possessed her. And to think that she my dear Corasul, just now, for excellent
died at cight-and -twenty ! What might and sufficient reasons. But if you have
not ten years more have made her ! ” pail your money for the sight of this
“ It is odd,” I observed, “ that lier fame Number, you may take your clioice of
shouldbe forever connected with the all the mountain ranges on the conti
name she got by her first unlucky mar- nent, from the Rocky to the White, and
riage in New York. For it was unlucky settle him just where you like. Only
enough , I believe, -was it not ? ” you must leave a gap to the westirard,
" You may say that,” respondied the through which the river - also anony
Consul, “ without fear of denial or quali- mous for the present distress - breaks its
fication. It was disgraceful in its begin way, and which gives him half an hour's
ning and in its ending. It was a swindle more sunshine than he would otherwise
on a large scale ; and poor Maria G- be entitled to, and slope the fields down
was the one who suffered the most by to its margin near a mile off, with their
the operation ." native timber thinned so skilfully as to
“ I. bave always heard,” said I, “ that have the effect of the best landscape
old G- was cheated out of the price gardening. It is a grand and lovely
1858. ] Who paid for the Prima Donna ? 303

scene ; and when I look at it, I do not between Holland linen and M -'s mar
wonder at one of the Consul's apoph- riage may not at first view be palpable
thegms, namely, that the chief advan- to sight . Still, it is a fact that the web
tage of foreign travel is, that it teaches of this part of her variegated destiny
you that one place is just as good to live was spun and woven out of threads of
in as another. Imagine that the one place flax that took the substantial shape of
he had in his mind at the time was just fine Hollands ;-and this is the way in
this one. But that is neither here nor which it came to pass.
there. When candles came, we drew Mynheer Van Holland, of whom the
our chairs together, and he tell me in Consul spoke just now, you must under
substance the following story . I will tell stand to have been one of the chief iner
it in my own words,-not that they are chants of Amsterdam , a city whose mer
so good as his, but because they come chants are princes and have been kings.
more readily to the nib of my pen . llis transactions extended to all parts of
the Old World and did not skip over the
New. Ilis ships visited the liarbor of
II, New York as well as of London ; and as
New York has grown considerably he died two or three years ago a very
since she was New Amsterdam , and has rich man , his adventures in general must
almost forgotten her whilom dependence have been more remunerative than the
on her first godmother. Indeed, had it one I am going to relate. In the au
not been for the historic industry of the tumn of the year 1825, it seemed good
crudite Diedrich Knickerbocker, very to this worthy merchant to despatch a
few of her sons would know much about vessel with a cargo chiefly made up of
the obligations of their nursing mother linens to the market of New York . The
to their old grandame beyond sca, in honest man little dreamed with what a
le days of the Dutch dynasty. Still, fate his ship was fraught, wrapped up in
though the old monopoly has been dead those 1axen folds. He happened to be
these two hundred years, or thereabout, in London the winter before, and was
there is I know not how many foll more present at the début of Maria G- at
traffic with her than in the days when it the King's Theatre. He must have ad
was in full life and force. Doth not that mire the beauty, grace, and promise of
bencfactor of his species, Mr. l'dolpho the youthful Rosina, had he been ten
Wolfe, derive thence his immortal, or times a Dutchman ; and if he heard of
immortalizing, Schiedam Schnapps, the her intended emigration to An :erica, as
virtues whercof, according to his adver- he possibly might have done, it most like
tisements, are fast transferring dram- ly excited no particular emotion in his
drinking from the domain of pleasure to phlegmatic bosom . He could not have
that of positive duty ? Tobacco-pipes, imagined that the exportation of a little
too, and toys, such as the friendly saint, singing- girl to New York should inter
whom Protestant children have been fere with a potential venture of his own
taught by Dutch tradition to invoke, in fair linen . The gods kindly hid the
delights to drop into the votive stocking, future from his eyes, so that he might
--they come from the mother city, where enjoy the comic vexation her lively sal
she sits upon the waters, quite as much lies caused to Doctor Bartolo in the
a Sea -Cybele as Venice herself. And play, unknowing that she would be the
linens, too , fair and fresh and pure as innocent cause of a more serious prov
the maidens that weave them , come forth ocation to himself, in downright earnest.
from Dutch looms ready to grace our He thought of this, himself, after it had
tables or to deck our beds. And the all happened.
mention of these brings me back to my Well, the good ship Steenbok had
story ,—though the immediate connection prosperous gales and fair weather across
304 Who paid for the Prima Donna ? [ January,
the occan , and dropped anchor off the thence to dinner in the enjoyment of a
Battery with some days to spare from complacent mind and a good appetite.
the amount due to the voyage. The It is to be supposed that M. Mdid
consignee came off and took possession the same. At any rate , he had the most
of the cargo, and July transferred it to reason , —at least, according to his proba
his own warehouse. Though the advan- ble notions of mercantile morality and
tages of advertising were not as fully un success .

derstood in those days of comparative

ignorance as they have been since, he III .
duly announced the goods which he had The next day came, and with it came,
receivel, and waited for a customer. He betimes, the packages of linens to M.
did not have to wait long. It was but N - 's warehouse in Pearl Street ; but
a day or two after the appearance of the the price for the same did not come as
advertisement in the newspapers that punctually to Mr. Schulemberg's count
he had prime Ilolland linens on hand, ing -room , according to the contract under
just received from Amsterdam , when he which they were delivered. In point of
was waited upon by a gentleman of good fact, M. M-- was not in at the time;
address and evidently of French extrac- but there was no doubt that he would at
tion, who inquired of the consignec, tend to the matter without delay, as soon
whom we will call Mr. Schulemberg for as he came in. A cash transaction does
the noncc, " whether he had the linens not necessarily imply so much the instant
he had alvertised yet on hand .” presence of coin as the unequivocal ab
" They are still on hand and on sale," sence of credit. A day or two more or
said Mr. Schulenberg. less is of no material consequence, only
.

“ What is the price of the entire con- there is to be no delay for sales and re
signment ?" inquired the customer. turns before payment. So Mr. Schulem
“ Fifty thousand dollars ,” responded berg gave himself no uneasiness about the
Mr. Schulemberg. matter when two, three, and even five
" And the terms ? " and six days had slid away without pro
• Cash, on delivery." ducing the apparition of the current
66
Very good,” replied the obliging buy- money of the merchant. A man who
er, “ if they be of the quality you describe transacted affairs on so large a scale as
in your advertisement, I will take them M. M. and conducted them on the
on those terms. Send them down to my sound basis of ready money , miglit safely
warehouse, No. 118, Pearl Street, to- be trusted for so short aa time. But when
morrow morning, and I will send you the a week had clapsed and no tidings had
money." been received either of purchaser or pur
“ And your name ? ” inquired Mr. chase-money,Mr.Schulenberg thought it
Schulemberg time for himself to interfere in his own
“ Is U- " responded the courteous proper person . Accordingly, he inconti
purchaser. nently proceeded to the counting-house of
The two merchants bowed politely, the M.M— to receive the promised price
one to the other, mutually well pleased or to know the reason why. If he failed
with the morning's work, and bade cach to obtain the one satisfaction, he at least
other good day. could not complain of being disappointed
Mr. Schulemberg knew but little, if of the other. Matters seemed to be in
anything, about his new customer ; but as some little unbusiness-like confusion , and
the transaction was to be a cash one, he the clerks in a high state of gleeful ex
did not mind that. He calculated his citement. Addressing himself to the
commissions, gave orders to his head chief among them , Mr. Schulemberg
clerk to see the goods duly delivered the asked the pertinent question , -
next morning, and went on change and “ Is M. M - in ? "
1858.) Who paid for the Prima Donna ? 305

“ No, Sir ," was the answer, “he is not; to the effect his intelligence would have
and he will not be just at present.” upon the creditor. It was not a clerical
But when will he be in ? for I must crror on his part when he supposed that
sce bim on some pressing business of iin- Mr. Schulemberg would not choose to
portance ." enact the part of skeleton at the wedding
“ Not to -day, Sir," replied the clerk , breakfast of the young Prima Donna.
smiling expressively; “ he cannot be in. There is something about the great
terrupted to -day on any business of any events of life, which cannot happen a
kind whatever. ” great many times to anybody,
“ The deuce he can't ! ” returned Mr.
Schulemberg. “ I'll see about that very “ A wedding or a funeral,
A mourning or a festival,"
soon , I can tell you. He promised to
pay me cash for fifty thousand dollars' that touches the strings of the one human
worth of Ilolland linens a week ago ; I heart of us all and makes it return no
have not seen the color of his money yet, uncertain sound. Shylock himself would
and I mean to wait no longer. Where hardly have demanded his pound of flesh
does he live ? for if bc be alive, I will on the wedding-day, had it been Antonio
see hiin and hear wbat he has to say that was to espouse the fair Portia. Even
for himself, and that speedily." he would have allowed three days of
“ Indeed, Sir," pleasantly expostulated grace before demanding the specific per
the clerk , “ I think when you understand formance of his bond. Now Mr. Schu
the circumstances of the case, you will lemberg was very far from being a Shy
forbear disturbing M. M- this day lock, and he was also a constant attend
of all others in his life . ” ant upon thc opera, and a devoted ad
“ Why, what the devil ails this day mirer of the lovely G-So he could
above all others, ” said Mr. Schulemberg, not wonder that a man on the eve of
somewhat testily, “ that he can't see his marriage with that divinc creature should
creditors and pay his debts on it ? ” forget every other consideration in the
" Why, Sir, the fact is,” the clerk re- immediate contemplation of his happiness,
plied, with an air of interest and impor- -even if it were the consideration for a
tance, “ it is M. M—'s wedding -day. cargo of primelinens, and one to the tune
He marries this morning the Signorina of fifty thousand dollars. And it is alto
G-, and I am sure you would not gether likely that the mundane reflection
molest him with business on such an oc- occurred to him , and made him casier in
casion as that. " his mind under the delay, that old G
“ But my fifty thousand dollars ! ” per- was by no means the kind of man to give
sisted the consignee, “ and why have away a daughter who dropped gold and
they not been paid ? ” silver from her sweet lips whenever she
“ Oh, give yourself no uneasiness at all opened them in public, as the princess
about that, Sir," replied the clerk , with in the fairy-tale did pearls and diamonds,
the air of one to whom the handling of to any man who could not give him a solid
such trifles was a daily occurrence ; “ M. equivalent in return . So that, in fact,
M— will, of course, attend to that he regarded the notes of the Signorina
matter the moment he is a little at lei- G as so much collateral security
sure .In fact, I imagine, that, in the for his debt.
hurry and bustle inseparable from an So Mr. Schulemberg was content to
event of this nature, the circumstance bide his reasonable time for the discharge
has entirely escaped his mind ; but as of M. M -'s indebtedness to his prin
soon as he returns to business again, I cipal. He had advised Mynheer Van
will recall it to his recollection, and you Holland of the specdy sale of his consign
will hear from him without delay.” ment, and given him hopes of a quick
The clerk was right in his augury as return of the procceds. But as days
VOL. I. 20
306 Who paid for the Prima Donna ? [ January
wore away, it seemed to him that the “ I consent to it all, Monsieur,” replied
time he was called on to bide was grow- M. M-, with a deprecatory gesture ;
ing into an unreasonable one. I can- “ you have reason, and I am desolated
not state with precision exactly how long that it is the impossible that you asb
he waited . Whether he disturbed the of me to do."
sweet influences of the honey-moon by “ How , Sir ! ” demanded the creditor ;
his intrusive presence, or perunitted that “ what do you mean by the impossible ?
nectareous satellite to fill her horns and You do not mean to deny that you
wax and wane in peace before he sought agreed to pay cash for the goods ? ”
to bring the bridegroom down to the “ My faith , no, Monsieur,” shrugging
things of carth, are questions which I ly responded M. M— ; “ I avow it ;
must leave to the discretion of my read- you have reason ; I promised to pay the
ers to settle, each for himself or herself, money, as you say it ; but if I have not
according to their own notions of the pro- the money to pay you, how can I pay
prieties of the case. But at the proper you the money ? What to do ? ”
time, after patience had thrown up in “ I don't understand you, Sir," return
66
disgust the office of a virtue, he took his cd Mr. Schulemberg . You have not
hat and cane one fine morning and walk- the money ? And you do not mean to
ed down to No. 118, Pearl Street, for pay me according to agreement ? ”
the double purpose of wishing M. M- " But, Monsieur, how can I when I
joy of his marriage and of receiving the have not money ? Have you not heard
price, promised long and long withheld , that I have made — what you call it ?
of the linens which form the tissue of failure, yesterday ? I am grieved of it,
my story. thrice sensibly ; but if it went of my life,
" The gods gave ear and granted half his I could not pay you for your fine linens,
prayer ; which were of a good market at the
The rest the winds dispersed in empty air." price."
There was not the slightest difficulty “ Indeed , Sir,” replied Mr. Schulem
about lis imparting his epithalamic con- berg, “ I had not heard of your misfor
gratulation , —but as to his receiving the tunes ; and I am heartily sorry for them,
numismatic consideration for which he on my own account and yours, but still
hoped in return , that was an entirely more on account of your charming wife.
different affair. He found matters in But there is no great harm done, after
the Pearl-Street counting -house again all. Send the linens back to me and
apparently something out of joint, but accounts shall be square between us,
with aa less smiling and sunny atmosphere and I will submit to the loss of the in
pervading them than he had remarked terest. "
on his last visit. He was received by “ Ah, but , Monsieur, you are too
M. M- good, and Madame will be recognizant
with courtesy , a little over-
strained , perhaps, and not as flowing to you forever for your gracious polite
and gracious as at their first inter- ness. But, my God , it is impossible that
view . Preliminaries over, Mr. Schulem- I return to you the linen. I have sold
berg, plunging with epic energy into the it, Monsieur, I have sold it all ! ”
midst of things, said, “ I have called, * Sold it ? ” reiterated Mr. Schulem
M. M— to receive the fifty thou- berg, regardless of the rules of etiquette,
sand dollars , which , you will remember, " Sold it ? And to whom, pray ? And
you engaged to pay down for the linens when ? ”
I sold you on such a day. I can make “ To M. G-, my father-in -the
allowance for the interruption which has law," answered the catechumen , blandly ;
prevented your attending to this business 66
" and it is a weck that he has received
sooner, but it is now high time that it it.”
were settled . " “ Then I must bid you a good morn
1858.] Who paid for the Prima Donna ? 307

ing, Sir ," said Mr. Schulemberg, rising sale of which she was the object, and
hastily and collecting his hat and gloves, the consequences which immediately re
" for I must lose no time in taking meas- sulted from it ; and here, accordingly , I
ures to recover the goods before they take my leave of them . But my story
have changed hands again.” is not quite done yet ; it must now pur
" Pardon, Monsieur," interrupted the sue the fortunes of the enterprising inn
poor, but honest M- , “ but it is too presario, Signor G-, who had so deft
late ! One cannot regain them . M. ly turned his daughter into a ship-load
G- embarked himself for Mexico of fine linens.
yesterday morning, and carried them all This excellent person sailed, as M.
with him ! ” M— told Mr. Schulemberg, for Vera
Imagine the consternation and rage Cruz, with an assorted caryo, consisting
of poor Mr. Schulenberg at finding that of singers, fiddlers, and, as aforesaid , of
he was sold , though the goods were not ! Mynheer Van Holland's fine linens.
I decline reporting the conversation any The voyage was as prosperous as was
farther, lest its strength of expression due to such an argosy. It a single Am
and force of expletive might be too phion could not be drowned by the ut
much for the more queasy of my read- most malice of gods and men , so long as
ers. Sullice it to say, that the swindlee, he kept his voice in order, what possible
if I may be allowed the royalty of coin- mishap could befall aа whole ship -load of
ing a word , at once freed his own mind them ? The vessel arrived safely under
and imprisoned the body of M. M- ; the shadow of San Juan de Ulua, and
for in those days imprisonment for debt her precious freight in all its varieties
was a recognized institution, and I think was welcomed with a tropical enthusi
few of its strongest opponents will deny asm . The market was bare of linen and
that this was a case to which it was no of song, and it was hard to say which
abuse to apply it. found the readiest sale. Competition
raised the price of both articles to a
fabulous height. So the good G
IV. had the benevolent satisfaction of cloth
I REGRET that I am compelled to leave ing the naked and making the cars that
this exemplary merchant in captivity ; heard him to bless him at the same time.
but the exigencies of my story, the moral After selling his linens at a great ad
of which beckons me away to the dis- vance on the cost price, considering he
tant coast of Mexico, require it at my had only paid his daughter for them ,
bands. The reader may be consoled, and having given a series of the most
however, by the knowledge that he successful concerts ever known in those
obtained his liberation in due time, latitudes, Signor G— set forth for the
his Dutch creditor being entirely sat- Aztec City. As the relations of meum
isfied that nothing whatsoever could be and tuum were not upon the most satis
squeezed out of him by passing him be- factory footing just then at Vera Cruz,
tween the bars of the debtor's prison , he thought it most prudent to carry his
though that was all the satisfaction he well-won treasure with him to the capi
erer did get low he accompanied his tal. His progress thither was a trium
young wife to Europe and there lived by pbal procession. Not Cortés, not Gen
the coining of her voice into drachmas, eral Scott, himself, marched more glori
as her father had done before him , necds ously along the steep and rugged road
not to be told here ; nor yet how she that leads from the sea - oast to the
was divorced from him, and made an- table-land, than did this son of song.
other matrimonial venture in partnership Every city on his line of march was the
with De B— I have nothing to do monument of a victory, and from cach
with him or her, after the bargain and one he levied tribute and bore spoils
308 Who paid for the Prima Donna ? [ January,
away. And the vanquished thanked ney, and either did not hear or did not
him for this spoiling of their goods. mind the vows that were sent up to
Arrived at the splendid city, at that them . At any rate, they did not take
time the largest and most populous on that care of the worthy G- which
the North American continent, he speed their devotees had a right to expect of
ily made hiinself master of it, a welcome them . Turning his back on the Halls
conqueror. The Mexicans, with the of the Montezumas, where he had rev
genuine love for song of their South- elled so sumptuously, he proceeded on
ern ancestors, had had but few oppor- his way towards the Atlantic coast, as
tunities for gratifying it such as that now fast as his mules tlought fit to carry bim
offered to them . G- was a tenor of and his beloved treasure. With the pro
great compass, and a most skilful and ceeds of his linens and his lungs, he was
accomplished singer. The artists who rich enough to retire from the vicissi
accompaniert him were of a high order tudes of operatic life, to some safe retreat
of merit, if not of the very first class. in his native Spain or his adoptive Italy.
Mexico had never heard the like, and, Filled with happy imaginings, he fared
though a hard -money country, was glad onward, the bells of his mules keeping
to take their notes and give them gold in time with the melodious joy of his heart,
return . They were feasteel and flattered until he had descended from the tierra
in the intervals of the concerts, and the caliente to the wilder region on the
bright eyes of Señoras and Señoritas hither side of Jalapa. As the narrow
rained influence upon them on the off road turned sharply, at the foot of a
nights, as their fair hands rained flow- steeper descent than common , into a
ers upon the on ones. And they have dreary valley, made yet more gloomy by
a very pleasant way, in those golden the shadow of the hill behind intercept
rcalms, of giving ornaments of diamondsing the sun , though the afternoon was
and other precious stones to virtuous not far advanced, the impresario was
singers, as we give pencil-cases and gold made unpleasantly aware of the transi
watches to meritorious railway conduc- tory nature of man's hopes and the van
tors and hotel clerks, as a testimonial of ity of his joys. When his train wound
the sense we entertain of their private into the rough open space, it found itself
characters and public services. The surrounded by a troop of men whose
gorgeous East herself never slowered looks and gestures bespoke their function
on her kings barbaric pearl and gold without the intermediation of an inter
with a richer hand than the city of preter. But no interpreter was needed
Mexico poured out the glittering rain in this case, as Signor G— was a
over the portly person of the hardy Spaniard by birth, and their expressive
G- Saturated at length with the pantomime was a sufficiently eloquent
golden flooil and its foam of pearl and substitute for specch. In plain English,
diamondl.-if, indeed, singer were ever he had fallen among thieves, with very
capable of such saturation , and were not little chance of any good Samaritan com
rather permeable forever like a sieve of ing by to help him .
the Dinaïdes, - saturated, or satisfied Now Signor G had had dealings
that it was all run out, he prepared to with brigands and banditti all his oper
take up his line of march back again atic life. Indeed, he had often drilled
to the City of the True Cross. Mexico them till they were perfect in their exer
mourned over his going, and sent him cises, and got them up regardless of ex
fortlı upon his way with blessings and pense. Under his direction they had
pravers for his safe return . often rushed forward to the footlights,
But, alas ! the blessings and the pray- pouring into the helpless mass before
crs were alike vain. The saints were them repeated volleys of explosive crotch
either deaf or busy, or had gone a jour- ets. But this was a very different chorus
1858.] Who paid for the Prima Donna ? 309

that now saluted his eyes. It was the real and pair of black silk breeches, in spite
thing, instead of the make-believe, and, of his eloquent protest against such injus
in the opinion of Signor G- , at least, tice, had he chanced to die in his Most
very much inferior to it. Instead of the Christian Majesty's dom ions. As Sig
steeple -crowned hat, jauntily feathered nor G - had an estate in his breath,
and looped, these irregulars wore huge from which he could draw a larger year
sombreros, much the worse for time and ly rent than the rolls of many a Spanish
weather, tlapped over their faces. For grandce could boast, he wisely chose the
the velvet jacket with the two- inch tail, part of discretion and surrendered at the
which iad nearly broken up the friend- same . His new acquaintances showed
ship between Mr. Pickwick and Mr. themselves expert practitioners in the
Tupman, when the latter gentleman breaking open of trunkshisand the rifling
proposed induing himself with one, on beloved doub
of treasure -boxes. All
the occasion of Mrs. Lco Hunter's fancy- loons, all his cherished dollars, for the
dress breakfast, — for this integument, which no Yankce ever felt a stronger
I say, these minions of the moon had passion, took swift wings and flew from
blankets round their shoulders, thrown his coffers to alight in the hands of the
back in preparation for actual service. alversary. The sacred recesses of his
Instead of those authentic cross -garter- pockets, and those of his companions,
ings in which your true bandit rejoices, were sacred no longer from the sacrile
like a new Malvolio, to tie up his legs, gious hands of the spoilers. The breast
perhaps to keep them from running pins were ravished from the shirt-frills, —
away, these false knaves wore , some of for in those days studs were not,-and the
them, ragged boots up to their thighs, rings snatched from the reluctant fingers.
while others had no crural coverings at All the shining testimonials of Mexican
all, and only rough sandals, such as the admiration were transferred with the
Indians there use, between their feet and celerity of magic into the possession of
the ground. They were picturesque, the chivalry of the road . Not Faulcon
perhaps, but not attractive to wealthy bridge himself could have been more re
travellers. But the wealthy travellers solved to coine on at the beckoning of
were attractive to them ; so they came gold and silver than were they, and, good
together, all the same. Such as they Catholics though they were, it is most
were, however, there they were , fierce, likely that Bell, Book , and Candle would
sad , and sallow, with vicious-looking have had as little restraining influence
knives in their belts, and guns of various over them as he professed to feel.
parentage in their hands, while their At last they rested from their labors.
captain bade our good man stand and To the victors belonged the spoils, as
deliver. they discovered with instinctive sagacity
There was no room for choice. He that they should do, though the apoph
had an eskort, to be sure ; but it was en- thegm had not yet received the authentic
tirely unequal to the emergency',-even
- seal of American statesmanship. Science
if it were not, as was afterwards shrewd- and skill had done their utmost, and poor
ly susperteil, in league with the robbers. G and his companions in misery
The enciny had the advantage of arms, stood in the centre of the ring stripped
position , anil numbers ; and there was of everything but the clothes on their
nothing for him to do but to disgorge his backs. The duty of the day being satis
hordeid gains at once, or to have his factorily performed , the victors felt that
breath stopped first and his estate sum- they had a right to some relaxation after
marily aulministered upon afterwards by their toils. And now a change came
these his casual heirs,—as the King of over them which might have reminded
France , by virtue of his Droit d'Aubaine, Signor G- of the banditti of the
would liave confiscated Yorick's six shirts green - room , with whose habits he had
310 Who paid for the Prima Donna ? [ January,
been so long familiar and whose opera- toss bim one of his own doubloons or rol
tions he had himself directed. Some lars, instead of the bouquets usually hurl
one of the troop, who, however fit for ed at well-deserving singers. They well
stratagems and spoils, had yet music in judyed that these flowers that never fade
his soul, called aloud for a song. The would be the tribute he would value
idea was hailed with acclamations. Not most, and so they rewarded his merito
satisfied with the capitalized results of his rious strains out of his own stores, as
voice to which they haul belped them- Claude Du Val or Richarı Turpin, in
selves, they were anwilling to let their the golden days of highway robbery,
prey go until they had also ravished would sometimes generously return a
from him some specimens of the airy guinea to a traveller he had just light
mintage whence they had issued. Ac- ened of his purse, to enable him to con
cordingly the Catholic vagabonds scated tinue his journey. It was lucky for the
themselves on the ground , a fuliginous unfortunate G that their approba
parterre to look upon, and called upon tion took this solid shape, or he would
G- for a song. A rock which pro- have been badly off indeed ; for it was
jected itself from the side of the hill all he had to begin the world with over
served for a stage as well as the “ green again. After his appreciating audience
plat” in the wood near Athens did for had exhausted their musical repertory
the company of Manager Quince, and and hail as many encores as they thought
there was no need of“ a tyring-room ,” as good , they broke up the concert and
poor G— had no clothes to change betook themselves to their fastnesses
for those be stood in. Not the Hebrews among the mountains, leaving their pa
by the waters of Babylon, when their tient to find his way to the coast as best
captors demanded of them a song of he might, with a pocket as light as his
Zion , had less stomach for the task . But soul was heavy. At Vera Cruz a con
the prime tenor was now before an au- cert or two vurnished him with the means
dience that would brook neither denial of embarking himself and his troupe for
nor excuse. Nor boarseness, nor catarrh, Europe, and leaving the New World
nor sudden illness, certified unto by the forever behind him .
friendly physician, would avail him now. And here I must leave him, for my
The demand was irresistible ; for when story is done. The reader hungering
he hesitated, the persuasive though stern for a moral may discern , that, though
mouth of a musket hinted to him in ex Signor G received the price he ask
pressive silence that he had better pre- ed for his lovely daughter, it advantaged
vent its speech with song. him nothing, and that he not only lost it
So he had to make his first appearance
all, but it was the occasion of his losing
everything else he had . This is very
upon that “ unworthy scaffold,” before an
audience which, multifold as his expe- well as far as it goes ; but then it is
rience had been, was one such as he had equally true that M. M- actually ob
never sung to yet. As the shadows of tained his wife, and that Mynheer Van
evening began to fall, rough torches of Holland paid for her. I dare say all
pine wood were lighted and shed a glare this can be reconciled with the eternal
such as Salvator Rosa loved to kindle, fitness of things ; but I protest I don't
upon a scene such as he delighted to see how it is to be done. It is “all a
paint. The rascals had taste,—that the muddle ,” in my mind. I cannot even
tenor himself could not deny. They affirm that the banditti were ever hang
knew the choice bits of the operas which ed ; and I am quite sure that the unlucky
held the stage forty years ago, and they Dutch merchant, whose goods were so
called for them wisely and applauded his comically mixed up with this whole his
efforts vociferously. Nay, more, in the tory, never had any poetical or material
height of their enthusiasın, they would justice for his loss of them . But it is as
1858.] Troo Rivers. 311

much the reader's business as mine to this point, I beg him to believe that it is
settle these casuistries. I only under entirely my fault. As the Consul told it
took to tell him who it was that paid to me, it was an excellent good story.
for the Prina Donna, - and I have “ Poor Mynheer Van Holland, ” he
done it. added, laughing, never got over that
66

adventure. Not that the loss was mate

rial to him ; he was too rich for that;
V.
but the provocation of his fifty thousand
“ I CONSIDER that a good story, ” said dollars going to a parcel of Mexican
ladrones, after buying an opera-singer
the Consul, when he had finished the nar-
ration out of which I have compounded for a Frenchman on its way, was enough
the foregoing, — " and, what is not always to rouse even Dutch human -nature to
the case with a good story, it is a truethe swearing-point. He could not abide
one. " either Frenchmen or opera- singers, all
I cordially concurred with my honored the rest of his life. And, by Jove, I
friend in this opinion, and if the reader don't wonder at it ! ”
should unfortunately differ from me on Nor I, neither, for the matter of that

TWO RIVERS.

Thy summer voice, Musketaquit,

Repeats the music of the rain ;
But sweeter rivers pulsing flit
Through thee, as thou through Concord Plain.
Thou in thy narrow banks art pent :
The stream I love unbounded goes
Through flood and sea and firmament ;
Through light, through life, it forward flows.
I see the inundation sweet,
I hear the spending of the stream
Through years, through men, through naturc fleet,
Through passion, thought, through power and dream .

Musketaquit, a goblin strong,

Of shard and fint makes jewels gay ;
They lose their grief who hear his song,
And where he winds is the day of day.

So forth and brighter fares my stream , -

Who drink it shall not thirst again ;
No darkness stains its equal gleam ,
And ages drop in it like rain .
312 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ January,

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE.

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.

[ The “ Atlantic ” obeys the moon, and in mental optics ; throwing the shadows
its LUXIVERSARY has come round again. of two objects so that one overlies the
I have gathered up some hasty notes of other. Poetry uses the rainbow tints for
my remarks made since the last high special effects, but always keeps its essen
tides, which I respectfully submit. Please tial object in the purest white light of
to remember this is talk ; just as easy and truth.- Will you allow me to pursue this
just as formal as I choose to make it.] subject a little further ?
-I never saw an author in my life- [ They didn't allow me at that time, for
saving, perhaps, one - that did not purr somebody happened to scrape the floor
as audibly as a full-grown domestic cat with his chair just then ; which acciden
( Felis Catus, Lixx.,) on having his fur tal sound, as all must have noticed, has
smoothed in the right way by a skilful the instantaneous effect that Proserpina's
hand. cutting the yellow hair had upon infelix
But let me give you a caution. Be Dido. It broke the charm , and that
very careful how you tell an author he is breakfast was over.]
droll. Ten to one he will hate you ; and - Don'tflatter yourselves that friend
if he does, be sure he can do you a mis- ship authorizes you to say disagreeable
chief, and very probably will. Say you things to your intimates. On the con
cried over his romance or his verses, and trary, the nearer you come into relation
he will love you and send you a copy. with a person , the more necessary do tact
You can laugh over that as much as you and courtesy becoine. Except in cases
like - in private. of necessity, which are rare , leave your
-Wonder why authors and actors friend to learn unpleasant truths from his
are ashamed of being funny ?-Why, enemies ; they are ready enough to tell
there are obvious The
reasons, and deep phil- them . Good-breeding never forgets that
clown knows very
osophical ones . amour-propre is universal. When you
well that the women are not in love with read the story of the Archbishop and Gil
him , but with Hamlet, the fellow in the Blas, you may laugh, if you will, at the
black cloak and plumed hat. Passion poor old man's delusion ; but don't forget
never laughs. The wit knows that his that the youth was the greater fool of the
place is at the tail of a procession. two, and that his master served such a
If you want the deep underlying rea- booby rightly in turning him out of
son , I must take more time to tell it. doors.
There is a perfect consciousness in every -You need not get up a rebellion
form of wit-using that term in its gen- against what I say, if you find everything
eral sense—that its essence consists in a in my sayings is not exactly new. You
partial and incomplete view of whatever can't poss mistake man who means
it touches. It throws a single ray, sep to be honest for a literary pickpocket.
arated from the rest,-red, yellow, blue, I once read an introductory lecture that
or any intermediate shade,-upon an looked to me too learned for its latitude.
object; never white light; that is the On examination, I found all its erudi
province of wisdom . We get beautiful tion was taken ready-made from D’Is
effects from wit ,—all the prismatic colors, raeli. If I had been ill-natured, I should
—but never the object as it is in fair have shown up the Professor, who had
daylight. A pun, which is a kind of wit, once belabored me in his feeble way.
is a different and much shallower trick But one can generally tell these whole
1858.) The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 313
sale thieves easily enough, and they are that among the six there should be more
not worth the trouble of putting them in or less confusion and misapprehension.
the pillory. I doubt the entire novelty [Our landlady turned pale ;—no doubt
of my remarks just made on telling un- she thought there was a screw loose in
pleasant truths, yet I am not conscious of my intellects, and that involved the
any larceny. probable loss of a boarder. A severe
Neither make too much of flaws and looking person, who wears a Spanish
occasional overstatements. Some per cloak and a sad cheek, Auted by the
sons seem to think that absolute truth, in passions of the melodrama, whom I un
the form of rigidly stated propositions, is derstand to be the professional ruffian
all that conversation admits. This is pre- of the neighboring theatre, alluded, with
cisely as if a musician should insist on a certain lifting of the brow , drawing
having nothing but perfect chords and down of the corners of the mouth, and
simple melodies, -no diminished fifths, no somewhat rasping voce di petto, to Fal
fat sevenths, no flourishes, on any ac- staff's nine men in buckram . Every
count. Now it is fair to say , that, just as body looked up. I believe the old gen
music must have all these, so conversa- tleman opposite was afraid I should seize
tiou must have its partial truths, its em- the carving -knife ; at any rate, he slid it
bellished truths, its exaggerated truths. to one side, as it were carelessly.]
It is in its higher forms an artistic prod- I think, I said, I can make it plain to
uct, and admits the ideal clement as Benjamin Franklin here, that there are
much as pictures or statues. One man at least six personalities distinctly to be
who is a little too literal can spoil the recognized as taking part in that dialogue
talk of a whole tableful of men of esprits between John and Thomas.
_ “ Yes," you say, “ but who wants to 1. The real John; known only
hear fanciful people's nonsense ? Put to his Maker.
2. John's ideal Jolin ; never the
the facts to it, and then see where it real one , and often very un
Three Johns. like him .
is !" — Certainly, if a man is too fond of 3. Thomas's ideal John ; nev
paradox ,-if he is flighty and empty, er the real John, nor John's
if, instead of striking those fifths and sev John, but often very unlike
either.
enths, those harmonious discords, often so 1. The real Thomas .
much better than the twinned octaves, Threc Thomases. 2. Thomas's ideal Thomas.
in the music of thought,-if, instead 3. John's ideal Thomas
of striking these, he jangles the chords, Only one of the three Johns is taxed ;
stick a fact into him like a stiletto . only one can be weighed on a platform
But remember that talking is one of the balance ; but the other two are just as im
fine arts ,—the noblest, the most impor- portant in the conversation. Let us sup
tant, and the most difficult, —and that its pose the real John to be old, dull, and
fuent harmonies may be spoiled by the ill-looking. But as the Higher Powers
intrusion of a single harsh note. There- have not conferred on men the gift of
fore conversation which is suggestive seeing themselves in the true light, John
rather than argumentative, which lets very possibly conceives himself to be
out the most of cach talker's results of youthful, witty, and fascinating, and talks
thought, is commonly the pleasantest and from the point of view of this ideal
the most profitable. It is not easy, at the Thomas, again, believes him to be an
best, for two persons talking together to artful rogue, we will say ; therefore be is,
make the most of each other's thoughts, so far as Thomas's attitude in the con
there are so many of them . versation is concerned , an artful rogue,
[ The company looked as if they wanted though really simple and stupid. The
an explanation.) same conditions apply to the three Thom
When Jobn and Thomas, for instance, ases. It follows, that, until a man can be
are talking together, it is natural enough found who knows himself as his Maker
 314 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ January,
knows him, or who sees himself as others find the “ gift ” that came with the little
see him, there must be at least six persons book .
engaged in every dialogue between two. It may be questioned whether any
Of these, the least important, philosophi- thing can be conscious of its own flavor.
cally speaking, is the one that we have Whether the musk-deer, or the civet-cat,
called the real person . No wonder two or even a still more eloquently silent an
disputants often get angry , when there are imal that might be mentioned, is aware
six of them talking and listening all at of any personal peculiarity, may well be
the same time. doubted. No man knows his own voice ;
[ A very unphilosophical application of many men do not know their own pro
the above remarks was made by a young files. Every one remembers Carlyle's
fellow , answering to the name of John, fainous Characteristics ” article ; allow
who sits near me at table. A certain for exaggerations, and there is a great
basket of peaches, rare vegetable, little deal in his doctrine of the self-uncon
known to boarding houses,was on its way sciousness of genius. It comes under
to me riâ this unlettered Johannes. He the great law just stated. This incapaci
appropriated the three that remained in ty of knowing its own traits is often
the basket, remarking that there was just found in the family as well as in the indi
onc apicce for him . I convinced him vidual . So never mind what your cous
that his practical inference was hasty and ins, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, and
illogical, but in the mean time he had the rest, say about that fine poem you
eaten the peaches.] have written, but send it (postage paid )
- The opinions of relatives as to a to the editors, if there are any, of the
man's powers are very commonly of tle “ Atlantic ,” — which, by the way, is not so
value; not merely because they over called because it is a notion, as some dull
rate their own flesh and blood , as some wits wish they had said, but are too late.
may suppose ; on the contrary, they are -Scientific knowledge, even in the
quite as likely to underrate those whom most modest persons, bas mingled with
they have grown into the habit of con- it a something which partakes of inso
sidering like themselves. The advent of lence. Absolute, peremptory facts are
genius is like what florists style the break- bullies, and those who keep company with
ing of a seculing tulip into what we may them are apt to get a bullying habit of
call high -caste colors ,—ten thousand dingy mind ; -not of manners, perhaps; they
flowers, then one with the divine streak ; may be soft and smooth, but the smile
you prefer it, like the coming up
or , if they carry has a quiet assertion in it,
in old Jacob's garden of that most gen such as the Champion of the Heavy
tlemanly little fruit, the seckel pear, Weights, commonly the best-natured,
which I have sometimes seen in shop- but not the most diffident of men, wears
windows. It is a surprise , —there is noth- upon what he very inelegantly calls his
ing to account for it. All at once we mug " Take the man, for instance,
find that twice two make five. Nature is who deals in the mathematical sciences.
fond of what are called “ gift-enterprises.” There is no elasticity in aa mathematical
This little book of life which she has fact; if you bring up against it, it never
given into the hands of its joint posses- yields a hair's breadth ; everything must
sors is commonly one of the old story- go to pieces that comes in collision with
books bound over again. Only once in it. What the mathematician knows be
a great while there is a stately poem in ing absolute, unconditional, incapable of
it, or its leaves are illuminated with the suffering question, it should tend, in the
glories of art, or they enfold a draft for nature of things, to breed a despotic way
untold values signed by the million- of thinking. So of those who deal with
fold millionnaire old mother herself. the palpable and often unmistakable
But strangers are commonly the first to facts of external nature ; only in a less
1858.) The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 315

degree. Every probability — and most er studied it anywhere but in Paris, which
of our common, working beliefs are is awkward, as B. F. devotes himself to
probabilities — is provided with buffers it with the peculiar advantage of an Al
at both ends, which break the force of sacian teacher. The boy, I think, is
opposite opinions clashing against it ; but doing well, between us, notwithstanding.
scientific certainty has no spring in it . The following is an uncorrected French
no courtesy, no possibility of yielding exercise, written by this young gentle
All this must react on the minds that man . His mother thinks it very credit
handle these forms of truth . able to his abilities ; though, being unac
-Oh, you need not tell me that quainted with the French language, her
Messrs. A. and B. are the most gracious, judgment cannot be considered tinal.
unassuming people in the world, and yet
precininent in the ranges of science I am LE RAT DES Salors À LECTURE.
referring to. I know that as well as you. Ce rat çi est un animal fort singulier. Il a
But mark this which I am going to say deux pattes de derrière sur lesquelles il
once for all : If I had not force enough marche, et deux pattes de devant dont il fait
usage pour tenir les journaux. Cet animal a
to project a principle full in the face of
the half dozen most obvious facts which
le peau noir pour le plupart, et porte un cer
cle blanchâtre autour de son cou . On lo
seem to contradict it, I would think only trouve tous les jours aux dits salons, ou il
in single file from this day forward . A demeure, digere, s'il y a de quoi dans son in
rash man , once visiting a certain noted terieur, respire, tousse, eternue, dort, et ronfle
institution at South Boston, ventured to quelquefois, ayant toujours le semblance de
express the sentiment, that man is a ra lire. On ne sait pas s'il a une autre gite que
çeli. Il a l'air d'une bête très stupide, mais
tional being. An old woman who was ' il est d'une sagacité et d'une vitesse extraor
an attendant in the Idiot School contra- dinaire quand il s'agit de saisir un journal
dicted the statement, and appealed to the nouveau . On ne sait pots pourquoi il lit, par
facts before the speaker to disprove it. cequ'il ne parait pas avoir des idées. Il vo
calise rarement, mais en revanche, il fait des
The rash man stuck to his hasty general bruits nasaux divers. Il porte un crayon
ization , notwithstanding. dans une de ses poches pectorales, avec le
[-It is my desire to be useful to quel il fait des marques sur les bords des
those with whom I am associated in my journaux et des livres, semblable aux sui
daily relations. I not unfrequently prac vans: !!! - Bah ! Pooh ! Il ne faut pas cepen
tise the divine art of music in coinpany dant les prendre pour des signes d'intelligence.
Il ne vole pas, ordinairement; il fait rare
with our landlady's daughter, who, as I ment même des echanges de parapluie, et
mentioned before, is the owner of an ac jamais de chapeau, parceque son chapeau a
cordion . Having myself a well-mark- toujours un caractère specifique. On ne sait
ed barytone voice of more than half an pas au juste ce dont il se nourrit. Feu Cuvier
octave in compass, I sometimes add my était d'avis que c'etait de l'odeur du cuir des
vocal powers to her execution of reliures ; ce qu'on lit d'être une nourriture
animale fort saine, et peu chère. Il vit bien
“Thou, thou reign'st in this bosom ," longtems. Enfin il meure , en laissant à ses
héritiers une carte du Salon à Lecture ou il
not, however, unless her mother or some avait existé pendant sa vie. On pretend qu'il
other discreet female is present, to pre revient toutes les nuits, après la mort, visiter
vent misinterpretation or remark . I lo Salon . On peut le voir, dit on , à minuit,
dans sa place habituelle, tenant le journal du
have also taken a good deal of interest soir, et ayant à sa main un crayon de char
in Benjamin Franklin, before referred bon . Le lendemain on trouve des caractères
to, sometimes called B. F., or more fre inconnus sur les bords du journal. Ce qui
quently Frank, in imitation of that felici prouve que le spiritualismo est vrai, et que
tous abbreviation , combining dignity and Messieurs les Professeurs de Cambridge sont
convenience, adopted by some of his bet destout .
imbeciles qui ne savent rien du tout, du
ters. My acquaintance with the French
language is very imperfect, I having nev- I think this exercise, which I have
316 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ January,
not corrected , or allowed to be touched of the forest and the prairies. All we
in any way, is very creditable to B. F. can do with books of human experience
You observe that he is acquiring a knowl- is to make them alive again with some
edge of zoology at the same time that he thing borrowed from our own lives. We
is learning French. Fathers of families can make a book alive for us just in pro
who take this periodical will find it portion to its resemblance in essence or
profitable to their children, and an eco- in form to our own experience. Now an
nomical mode of instruction , to set them author's first novel is naturally drawn, to
to revising and amending this boy's a great extent, from his personal experi
exercise. The passage was originally ences ; that is, is a literal copy of nature
taken froin the “ Histoire Naturelle des under various slight disguises. But the
Bêtes Ruminans et Rongeurs, Bipèdes moment the author gets out of his per
et Autres,” lately published in Paris. sonality, he must have the creative pow
This was translated into English and er, as well as the narrative art and the
published in London. It was repub- sentiment, in order to tell a living story ;
lished at Great Pedlington , with notes and this is rare .
and additions by the American editor. Besides, there is great danger that a
The notes consist of an interrogation- man's first life -story shall clean him out,
mark on page 53d, and a reference so to speak, of his best thoughts. Most
( p. 127th) to another book " edited ” by lives, though their stream is loaded with
the same hand . The additions consist sand and turbid with alluvial waste, drop
of the editor's name on the title-page a few golden grains of wisdom as they
and back , with a complete and authentic flow along. Oftentimes a single cradling
list of saiul editor's honorary titles in the gets them all, and after that the poor
first of these localities. Our boy trans- man's labor is only rewarded by mud aud
lated the translation back into French . worn pebbles. All which proves that I,
This nay be compared with the original, as an individual of the human family,
to be found on Shelf 13, Division X, of could write one novel or story at any
the Public Library of this metropolis.] rate , if I would .
-Some of you boarders ask me Why don't I, then ?- Well, there
from time to time why I don't write a arc several reasons against it. In the
story, or a novel, or something of that first place , I should tell all my secrets ,
kind. Instead of answering each one and I maintain that verse is the proper
of you separately, I will thank you to medium for such revelations. Rhythm
step up into the wholesale department and rhyme and the harmonies of musical
for a few moments , where I deal in an- language, the play of fancy, the fire of
swers by the piece and by the bale. imagination, the flashes of passion, so
That every articulately -speaking hu- bide the nakedness of a heart laid open,
man being has in him stuff for one novel that hardly any confession, transfigured
in three volumes duodecimo has long in the luminous halo of poetry, is re
been with me a cherished belief. It has proached as self-exposure. A beauty
been maintained , on the other hand, that shows herself ander the chandeliers, pro
many persons cannot write more than one tected by the glitter of her diamonds,
novel, -- that all after that are likely to with such a broad snowdrift of white arms
be failures. - Life is so much niore tre- and shoulders laid bare, that, were she
mendous a thing in its heights and depths unadorned and in plain calico, she would
than any transeript of it can be, that all be unendurable — in the opinion of the
recoril of human experience are as so ladies.
many bound herbaria to the innumer- Again, I am terribly afraid I should
able glowing, glistening, rustliny, breath- show up all my friends. I should like to
ing, fragrance -laden, poison-sucking, life- know if all story -tellers do not do this ?
giving, death -distilling leaves and flowers Now I am afraid all my friends would
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 317

not bear showing up very well; for they in the sense of knowledge of the world
have an average share of the common and society, but certainly not clever either
weakness of humanity, which I am pretty in the arts or sciences,-his company is
certain would come out. Of all that pleasing to all who know him. I did not
have told stories among us there is hard- recognize in him inferiority of literary
ly one I can recall that has not drawn too taste half so distinctly as I did simplicity
faithfully some living portrait that might of character and fearless acknowledg.
better have been spared. ment of his inaptitude for scholarship.
Once more, I have sometimes thought In fact, I think there are a great many
it possible I might be too dull to write gentlemen and others, who read with a
such a story as I should wish to write. mark to keep their place, that really
And finally, I think it very likely I “ hate books,” but never had the wit to
shall write a story one of these days. find it out, or thc manliness to own it.
Don't be surprised at any time, if you see[ Entre nous, I always read with a mark .]
me coming out with “ The Schoolmis- We get into a way of thinking as if
tress,” or “ The Old Gentleman Oppo what we call an “ intellectual man ” was,
site. " [ Our schoolmistress and our old as a matter of course, made up of nine
gentleman that sits opposite had left the tenths, or thereabouts, of book -learning,
table before I said this.] I want my and onc-tenth himself. But even if he
glory for writing the same discounted is actually so compounded , he need not
BOW, on the spot, if you please. I will read much. Society is a strong solution
write when I get ready. How many of books. It draws the virtue out of
people live on the reputation of the repu- what is best worth reading, as hot water
tation they might have made ! draws the strength of tca-leaves. If
I saw you smiled when I spoke I were a prince, I would hire or buy a
about the possibility of my being too dull private literary tea -pot, in which I would
to write a good story. I don't pretend steep all the leaves of new books that
to know what you meant by it, but I promised well. The infusion would do
take occasion to make a remark that for me without the vegetable fibre. You
may hereafter prove of value to some understand me ; I would have a person
among you . — When one of us who has whose sole business should be to read
been led by native vanity or senseless day and night, and talk to me whenever
flattery to think himself or herself pos- I wanted him to. I know the man I
sessed of talent arrives at the full and would have : a quick -witted, out-spoken,
final conclusion that he or she is really incisive fellow ; knows history, or at any
dull, it is one of the most tranquillizing rate has a shelf full of books about it,
and blessed convictions that can enter a which he can use handily, and the same
mortal's mind. All our failures, our of all useful arts and sciences; knows all
short-comings, our strange disappoint- the common plots of plays and novels,
ments in the effect of our cfforts are and the stock company of characters that
litteil froin our bruised shoulders, and are continually coming on in new cos
fall, like Christian's pack, at the feet of tume; can give you a criticism of an oc
that Omnipoten « c which has seen fit to tavo in an epithet and a wink, and you
lony is the pleasant gift of high intelli- can depend on it ; cares for nobody excepi
vence,—with which one look may over- for the virtue there is in what he says ;
llow us in some wider sphere of being. delights in taking off' big wigs and pro
How sweetly and honestly one and in the alisembalming
fessional gowns,
said to me the other day, “ I hate books ! ” and unbandaging of all literary mum
A gentleman ,-singularly free from affec- mies. Yet he is as tenıler and reveren
tations, —not learned , of course, but of tial to all that bears the mark of genins ,
perfect breeding, which is often so much that is, of a new influx of truth or beauty,
better than learning,—by no means dull, -as a nun over her missal. In short, he
318 The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table. [ January,
is one of those men that know every- large axioms bowled over the mahogany
thing except how to make a living. Him like bomb-shells from professional mor
would I keep on the square next my own tars, and explosive wit dropping its trains
royal compartment on life's chessboard. of many -colored fire, and the mischief
To him I would push up another pawn, making rain . of bon-bons pelting every
in the shape of a comely and wise young body that shows himself ,—the picture of a
woman , whom he would of course take- truly intellectual banquet is one that the
to wife. For all contingencies I would old Divinities might well have attempted
liberally provide. In a word , I would , to reproduce in their
in the plebeian, but expressive phrase, Oh, oh , oh ! ” cried the young
" put him through ” all the material part fellow whom they call John, _ " that is
a life ; see him sheltered, warmed, fed , from one of your lectures ! "
button -inended, and all that, just to be I know it, I replied ,–I concede it, I
able to lay on his talk when I liked ,—with confess it, I proclaim it.
the privilege of shutting it off at will.
“ The trail of the serpent is over them all! "
A Club is the next best thing to this,
strung like a harp, with about a dozen All lecturers, all professors, all school
ringing intelligences, each answering to masters, have ruts and grooves in their
some chord of the macrocosm . They do minds into which their conversation is
well to dine together once in a while . Aperpetually sliding. Did you never, in
dinner-party made up of such clements riding through the wools of a still June
is the last triumph of civilization over evening, suddenly feel that you had passed
barbarism . Nature and art combine to into a warm stratum of air, and in a min
charm the senses ; the equatorial zone of ute or two strike the chill layer of atmos
the system is soothed by well-studied ar- phere beyond ? Did you never, in cleav
tifices; the faculties are off duty, and fall ing the green waters of the Back Bay,–
into their natural attitudes ; you sce wis- where the Provincial blue-noses are in
dom in slippers and science in a short the habit of beating the “ Metropolitan ”
jacket. boat-clubs, find yourself in a tepid
The whole force of conversation de- streak, a narrow , local gulf-stream , a
pends on how much you can take for gratuitous warm -bath a little underdone,
granted. Vulgar chess -players have to through which your glistening shoulders
play their game out ; nothing short of the soon flashed, to bring you back to the
brutality of an actual checkmate satisfies cold realities of full-sca temperature ?
their dull apprehensions. But look at Just so, in talking with any of the char
two masters of that noble game ! White acters above referred to, one not un
stands well enough, so far as you can frequently finds a sudden change in the
see ; but Red says, Mate in six moves ;- style of the conversation. The lack
White looks,-nodls ;—the game is over. lustre eye, rayless as a Beacon - Street
Just so in talking with first -rate men ; door-plate in August, all at once fills with
especially when they are gooul -natured light ; the face flings itself wide open like
and expansive, as they are apt to be at the church -portals when the bride and
table. That blessed clairvoyance which bridegroom enter ; the little man grows
sees into things without opening them ,- in stature before your eyes, like the
that glorious license, which, having shut small prisoner with hair on end, beloved
the door and driven the reporter from yet drcaded of early childhood ; you
its key -hule, calls upon Truth, majestic were talking with a dwarf and an inbe
virgin ! to get off from her pedestal and cile,-you have a giant and a trumpet
drop her academic poses, and take aa fes- tongued angel before you ! Nothing
tive garland and the vacant place on the but a streak out of a fifty -tlollar lecture.
medius lerlus,—that carnival-shower of -As when , at some unlooked -for mo
questions and replies and comments, ment, the mighty fountain -column springs
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 319

into the air before the astonished pass- stream of time, while other hands tug
er-by', - silver-footed, diamond -crowned , at the oarsye Amines of parasitical
rainbow - scarfed ,—from the bosom of that literature, who pick up your grains of
fair sheet, sacred to the hymns of quiet native-grown food with a bodkin, having
batrachians at home, and the epigrams gorged upon less honest fare, until, like
of a less amiable and less elevated order the great minds Goethe speaks of, you
of reptilia in other latitudes. have “ made a Golgotha ” of your pages !
-Who was that person that was so -ponder thercon !]
abused some time since for saying that in -Before you go , this morning, I
the conflict of two races our sympathics want to read you aa copy of verscs. You
naturally go with the higher ? No mat- will understand by the title that they are
ter who he was. Now look at what is go written in an imaginary character. I
ing on in India, —a white, superior “ Cau- don't doubt they will fit some family -man
casian " race, against a dark -skinned , in- well enough. I send it forth as “ Oak
ferior, but still “ Caucasian ” race,—and Hall ” projects a coat, on a priori
where arc English and American sym- grounds of conviction that it will suit
pathies ? We can'tstop to settle all the somebody. There is no loftier illustration
doubtful questions ; all we know is that of faith than this. It believes that a soul
the brute nature is sure to come out most has been clad in flesh ; that tender par
strongly in the lower race , and it is the ents have fed and nurtured it ; that its
general law that the human side of hu- mysterious compages or frame-work has
manity should treat the brutal side as it survived its myriad exposures and reach
does the same nature in the inferior ani- ed the stature ofmaturity ; that the Man,
mals, —tame it or crush it. The India now self-determining, has given in his
mail brings stories of women and chil- adhesion to thc traditions and habits of
dren outraged and murdered ; the royal the race in favor of artificial clothing ;
stronghold is in the hands of the babe- that he will, having all the world to
killers. England takes down the Map of choose from , select the very locality
the World, which she has girdled with where this audacious generalization has
empire, and makes a correction thus : been acted upon . It builds a garment
Dott . Dele. The civilized world says, cut to the pattern of an Idea, and trusts
Amen . that Nature will model a material shape
-Do not think, because I talk to to fit it.There is a prophecy in every
you of many subjects briefly, that I scam , and its pockets are full of inspira
should not find it much lazier work to tion . – Now hear the verses.
take each one of them and dilute it down
to an essay . Borrow some of my old THE OLD MAN DREAMS.
college themes and water my remarks to O for one hour of youthful joy !
suit yourselves, as the Horneric heroes Give back my twentieth spring !
did with their melas oinos,—that black , I'd rather laugh a bright-haired boy
sweet, syrupy wine (?) which they used Than reigu a gray -bcard king !
to alloy with three parts or more of the Off with the wrinkled spoils of age !
flowing stream . [Could it have been Away with learning's crown !
Tenr out life's wisdom -written page,
melasses, as Webster and his provincials And d lsh its trophies down !
spell it, or Molossa's, as dear old smat
tering, chattering, would -be -College -Pres One moment let my life -blood stream
From boyhood's fount of flame !
ident, Cotton Mather, has it in the “ Mag Give me one giddy, recling dream
nalia” ? Ponder thereon, ye small anti- Of life all love and fame !
quaries, who make barn -door-fowl Nights - My listening angel heard the prayer,
of learning in “ Notes and Querics ” !— And calmly smiling, said ,
ye Historical Societies, in one of whose " Jf I but touch thy silvered hair,
venerable triremes I, too, ascend the Thy hasty wish hath sped .
320 Agassiz's Natural History.
" But is there nothing in thy track
To bid thee fondly stay,
While the swift seasons hurry back
To find the wished for day ? " .
-Ah, truest soul of womankind !
Without thee, what were life ?
One bliss I cannot leave behind :
I'll take - my - precious— wife !
-The angel took a sapphire pen
And wrote in rainbow dew,
“ The man would be a boy again ,
And be a husband too ! "
- “ And is there nothing yet unsaid
Before the change appears ?
[ January,
Remember, all their giſts have filed
With those dissolving years ! ”
Why, yes ; for memory would recall
My food paternal joys ;
I could not bear to leave them all :
I'll take - my - girl - and - boys !
The smiling angel dropped his pen ,
“ Why this will never do ;
The man would be a boy again ,
Auve : fither too ! ”
And so I laughed ,-my langhter woke
The household with its noise ,-
And wrote my dreain, when morning broke,
To please the gray -haired boys.

AGASSIZ'S NATURAL HISTORY.

Contributions to the Natural History of rists, the oblique glances of suspicious

the United States of America. By sister- sciences, the random flashes that
Louis AGASSIZ. Vols. I. and II. Bos- skepticism throws from her faithless mir
ton : Little, Brown & Co. London : ror to dazzle all eyes that seek for truth ;
Trübner & Co. 1857. through such a varied and protracted
ordeal must every record that embodies
The Great Professor has given the long and profound observation, large and
first Monograph of his Magnun Opus to lofty thought, reach the golden Impringe
the Great Republic and the wider realm tur which is its warrant for immortality.
of Science. The learned world resolves The work of Mr. Agassiz, if we may
itself into committees to consider every judge it by the portion now before us, has
important work ; claiming leave to sit for a right to challenge such a matured opin
as long a time as they choose ,—for years, ion, and to wait for it. Not the less does
or for a whole generation. Every al- a certain duty belong to us as literary
leged fact is to be verified or cancelled or journalists with reference to these stately
qualified, every inference to be measured volumes, which are in the hands of thou
over and over again by its premises, every sands, learned and unlearned, and of
proposition to be tried by all the tests wbich there are scores of thousands wait
that can prove its strength or weakness, ing to hear. Our duty we consider to
and the whole to be marshalled to the be four-fold : first, that of recognition in
place it may claim in the alcoves of the terms of fitting courtesy ; secondly , of
universal library. No hasty opinion can analysis for the general reader ; thirılly,
anticipate this final and peremptory judg- of accentuation, so to speak, of what
ment. Its elements must of necessity be seems most widely applicable or interest
gathered slowly from many and scattered ing ; and lastly, of making such com
sources . The accumulated Learning of ments as so pregnant a text may sug.
the great centres of civilization , the pa- gest.
tient investigation of plodding observers, And first, of recognition. Here are the
the keen insight of subtile analysts, the fruits of ten years of patient labor, taken
iealous clairvoyance of dissentient theo- out of the heart of life, in the age of
1858. ] Agassiz's Natural History. 321

vigor, which is that of ambition,to use which we see hung up on so many votive
the phrase of another great observer - tablets at the entrance of this miniature
by a man of large endowments and of Babel of Science.
vast knowledge, assisted by skilful collab- Even so late as the last century the
orators, by finished artists, by the coun- genial custom survived ; for our worthy
sels and liberality of the learned few, and Stalpart vander Wiel, whose little pair
the generous countenance of the intelli- of volumes was published in 1727, can
gent many. Before analysis, before criti- boast of twenty-two pages of well -ordered
cism , there should be uttered a welcome; commendatory verse, much of it in his
not grudging, not envious of an over- native Dutch,-a little of which goes a
shadowing reputation, not over -curious good way with all except Batavian read
in scarching for qualifications to abate ers .

its warmth , not carefully taming down its But as the “ Arundines Cami," musical
enthusiasm to tepid formalisms; but full- as they are, have lent no prelude to these
soulcd and free-spoken , such as all noble harmonies of science, we must say in a
works and deeds should claim . few plain words of prosc our own first
The learned men of past centuries thought as to the work the commence
have left us an exainple of this treatment ment of which lies before us. We be
of authors, in those gratulatory verses lieve, that, if completed according to its
with which they were wont to hail every promise, it is to be one of the monumental
considerable literary or scientific perform- labors of our century . Comparisons are
ance. They knew human nature well. not to be lightly instituted, and especially
They knew that the author, when he under circunstances that do not allow a
quenches the lamp over which he has fair survey of the whole field from which
grown haggard and pale, and steps from the objects to be compared are to be
his cell into daylight and the chill outside taken. We suppose, bowever, it will be
air, longs, longs unutterably, for kind conccded that the sunset continent has
words, and the cheering fellowship of never witnessed anything like the incep
kindred souls ; and with instinctive grace tion of this mighty task in the way of
they chose the poetical form of expres- systematic natural science. And if, since
sion, simply because this alone gives full Cuvier, the greatest of naturalists, as Mr.
license to the lips of friendship. Agassiz cousiders him , slept with the fos
This old folio which stands by us is not sils to which he had given life, there has
precious only because it contains the been any other student of Nature who
quaint wisdom and manifold experience has attempted a task so immense, with
of Ambroise Paré, mingled with his cred- the same union of observing, reflecting,
ulous gossip , and again sweetened by his analyzing, and coördinating power, we
simple reverence; not precious alone cannot name him . Our civilization has
because it contains the noblest words a right to be proud of such an accession
ever uttered by one of his profession , – to its thinking and laboring constituency ;
le le pensay et Dieu le guarit ; but it is also bound to be grateful for it, and
also because PIERRE ROXSARD, the to express its gratitude.
“ Poet of France," has left his deathless It is just one hundred years since
name thrice inscribed in its earlier pages another Swiss, the magnificent Albert
at the foot of tributes to its author. von Haller, gave to the world the first
And here in the next century comes volume of the “ Elementa Physiologiæ
Schenck of Grafenberg, staggering under Corporis Humani.” Nine years after
his monstrous volume of " Casus Rario warus, in 1766, the last of the eight
res," ready to fall fainting by the way- volumes appeared ; and the vast struc
side, when lo ! the shining oncs meet him ture , which embodied his untiring study
too, and lift him and lighten him with the of Nature, his world -wide erudition, bis
utterance of these fifty -one distinct poems deepest thought, his highest imaginings,
VOL. I. 21
322 Agassiz's Natural History. [ January,
his holiest aspirations, stood , like the Alps remember is that downward one of the
whose shadow fell upon its birthplace, unfortunate tortoise that cracked the
the lovely Lausanne, pride of the Pays bald crown of Æschylus. But turtle, as
de Vaud . The clepsydra that meas- embracing all chelonians, or, as liberal
ure the centuries as they drop from the shepberds call it, “ turkle,” is unquestion
dizzy cliffs -- the glaciers, by the descentably Cisatlantic. The distinguished nat
of which “ time is marked out, as by a uralist has made himself an American
shadow on a dial,” and which thunder citizen by adopting our own expression,
out the high noon of each revolving year and should have the freedom of all our
with their frozen tongues, as they crack cities presented to him in the shell of a
beneath the summer's su - have regis- box - TURTLE.
tered a new centennial circle, and at the It is singular to recall the honors which
very hour of its completion , Switzerland have been bestowed on the testudinates
vindicates her ancient renown in these from all antiquity. It was the sun -dried
fair pages, at once pledge and perforin- and sinew-strung shell of a tortoise that
ance, of another of her honored child suggested the lyre to Mercury, as he
dren. May the auspicious oien lead walked by the shore of Nilus. It was
to as happy a conclusion ! on the back of a tortoise that the Indian
sage placed his elephant which upheld
Lovingly, then, we lay open the gener- the world. Under the testudo the Roman
ous quarto and look upon its broad, legions swarned into the walled cities of
bright title-page. It tells us that we have the orbis terrarum . And in that wise old
here the first of a series of “ Contribu- fable which childhood learns, and age too
tions to the Natural History of the United often remembers, sorrowing, it was the
States of America.” We see that one tortoise that won the race against the
of its three parts cnibraces the largest swiftest of the smaller tribes, his compet
generalities of Natural Science, under itor.
the head of an “ Essay on Classification." And here once more we have his shell
We see that the other two parts are de- strung with vibrating thoughts that repeat
voted to the description and delineation the harmonies of nature. Once more his
of a single order of Reptilia ,—the Testu- broad back stoops to the weighty prob
dinata, or “ Turtles. ” lems which the planet proposes to its
If Mr. Agassiz had intentionally chosen children. Once more the great cities are
the simplest way of proving that he had stormed - by science - beneath his coat
naturalized himself in New England), le of mail. Once more he bas run the race,
could not have selected more fortunately not against the hare only, but the whole
than he has done by alopting our word animal kingdom , and won it, and with it
Turtle to cover all the Testudinates. To the new fame which awaits him , as he
an Englishman a turtle is a sea -monster, leads in the long array of his fellows that
that for a brief space lies on his back are to come up, one by one, in these
and fights the air with his useless paddles enduring records. And so we turn the
in the bow -window of a provision-shop, leaf, and coine to the DEDICATION .
bound eventually to Guildhall, there to The Dedication of a work like this,
feed Gog and Magog, or his worshippers, destined to preserve all the names it en
known as aldermen . For him a land -tes- rols in the sculpture -like immortality of
tudinate is a lortoise. When his poets science, naturally delays us for a mo
and romancers speak of turtles, again , ment. Of the foreign teacher and friend
they commonly mean turtle-doves. to whom the author owes some of his ear

“ Not half so swift the sailing falcon flies

liest lessons, and of that group of our own
That drives a turtle through the liquid skies."
citizens, most of them still living, who
lent their united efforts to the enterprise
The only flight of a testudinate which we of publication after it was commenced ,
1858.] Agassiz's Natural History . 323

we need not speak individually. But lations , until the meaningless heap has
we cannot pass over the name of Fran- become a vast mosaic, where nothing is
CIS CALLEY GRAY without a word of too minute to fill some interstice, nothing
grateful remembrance for one who was too angular to fit some corner, nothing
" the friend and adviser ” of the author so dull or brilliant of tint that it will not
in planning the publication of the work fiirnish its fraction of light or shadow.
before us. We who remember his varied Such has been the history of those years
culture, his large and fluent discourse, of labor the results of which these vol
with its formidable accuracy of knowl- umes present to us. Whatever may have
edge and gracious suavity of utterance, been said of the devotion of our country
his taste in literature and art, which made men to material interests, the wise and
his home a suite of princely cabinets, his winning lips had only to speak, and such
gencrous and elegant hospitality, which a currency of plastrons and carapaces
scholars and artists knew so well,-count- was set in circulation, that the contem
ing him as the peer, and in many points plative stranger who saw the mighty coin
the more than peer of such as the wide age of Chelonia flowing in upon Cam
world of letters is proud to claim ,—are brillge might well have thought that the
pleased to see that his cherished name national idea was not the Almighty Dol
will be read by the students of unborn lar, but the Almighty Turtle.
generations on the first leaf of this noble Mr. Agassiz places a high estimate on
record of the science of our own . the intelligence as well as the kind spirit
The PREFACE which follows the Dedi- of his adopted countryinen . * There is
cation is full of grateful acknowledg not a class of learned men here,” he says,
ments to the many friends of science, in “ distinct from the other cultivated mem
all parts of the country, who came for- bers of the community. On the contrary ,
ward to lend their aid in various forms, so general is the desire for knowledge,
especially in collecting and transmitting that I expect to see my book read by
specimens from the most widely remote operatives, by fishermen, by farmers,
sections of the continent. The pious quite as extensively as by the students
zeal of Mr. Winthrop Sargent, who of our colleges, or by the learned pro
brought a cargo of living turtles more fessions ; and it is but proper that I should
than a thousand miles to the head -quar endeavor to make myself understood by
ters of testudinous learning at Cambridge, all."
is only paralleled by the memorable act The deficiencies of our scientific libra
of the Pisans in transporting ship- loads ries, and the want of aa class of elementa
of holy soil from Palestine to fill their ry works upon Natural History, such as
Campu Santo. Genius is marked by noth- are widely circulated in Europe, arc ad
ing more distinctly than that it makes the verted to and alleged as a reason for
world its tributary. Ile from whose lips entering into details which the profes
it speaks has but to look calmly into the sional naturalist might think misplaced.
We quote one paragraph entire from
cyes of dull routine, of jaded toil, of fickle
childhood , and utter the words, “ Follow the Preface, as not susceptible of being
mc." Custom -house officials close their abridged , and as briefly stating those
books, tired fishermen leave their nets, general facts with regard to the work
riotous boys forsake their play, to do the which all our readers must desire to
master's bidding. Is he making collec- know.
tions for some great purpose of study ? " I have a few words more to say re
Piece by piece the fragmentary spoils flow specting the two first volumes, now ready
in upon him , ofallsizes, shapes, and hues ; for publication. Considering the uncer
a chaos of confused riches, perhaps only tainty of human life, I have wished to
a wealth of rubbish, as they lie at his feet. bring out at once a work that would ex
One by one they fall into barmonious re- emplify the nature of the investigations
324 Agassiz's Natural History. [ January,
I have been tracing during the last ten Our analysis must confine itself mainly
years, and show what is likely to be the to the first of the three parts into which
character of the whole series. I have these two volumes are divided . This
aimed , therefore, in preparing these two first part it is that contains those large
volumes, to combine them in such a man- results which every thinker must desire
ner as that they should form a whole. to learn from one whose life has been
The First Part contains an exposition of devoted to the searching and contempla
the general views I have arrived at thus tive study of Nature. It is in the realm
far, in my studies of Natural History. The of thought here explored, that Natural
Second Part shows how I have attempted Science, whose figure we are wont to look
to apply these results to the special study down upon, crouching to her task, like
of Zoology, taking the order of Testudi- him of the muck-rake, as he painfully
nata as an example. I believe, that, in gathers together his sticks and straws,
America, where turtles are everywhere rises erect, and lifts her forehead into the
common , and greatly diversified , a stu- upper atmosphere of philosophy, where
dent could not make a better beginning the clouds are indeed thickest, but the
than by a careful perusal of this part, stars are nearest. The second and third
specimens in hand , with constant refer- parts belong more exclusively to the pro
ence to the second chapter of the First fessed students of Natural History in its
Part. The Third Part exemplifies the different special departments. Our no
bearing of Embryology upon these gen- tice of these divisions of the work must
eral questions, while it contains the full- therefore be comparatively brief.
est illustration of the embryonic growth The first chapter of the first part has
of the Testudinata .” for its title, “ The fundamental relations
The Preface closes with honorable of animals to one another and to the
mention of the gentlemen who have fur- world in which they live, as the basis of
nished direct assistance in the prepara- the natural system of animals."
tion of the work, and especially of Mr. Certain general doctrines, the spirit
Clark in microscopic observation and il- of which runs through all the scientific
lustration, and of Mr. Sonrel in drawing works of Mr. Agassiz, are distinctly laid
the zoological figures. down in the first section of this chapter.
The List OF SUBSCRIBERS is not It is headed with the statement, “ The
without its special meaning and interest. leading features of a natural zoological
If, as has been said , the grade of civiliza- system are all founded in nature .” The
tion in any community can be estimated systems named from the great leaders of
by the amount of sulphuric acid it con- science are but translations of the Crea
sumes, the extent to which a work like tor's thoughts into human language. “ If
this has been called for in different sec- it can be proved that man has not in
tions of the country may to some extent vented, but only traced this systematic
be considered an index of its intellectual arrangement in nature , —that these rela
aspirations, if not of its actual progress. tions and proportions which exist through
This is especially true of those remoter out the animal and vegetable world have
regions where personal motives would an intellectual, an ideal connection in
exercise least influence. But without in- the mind of the Creator,—that this plan
stituting any comparisons, we may well of creation, which so commends itself to
be proud of this ample list of twenty-five our highest wisdom , has not grown out
hundred subscribers, most of them citi- of the necessary action of physical laws,
zens of the republic, — “ a support such as but was the free conception of the Al
was never before offered to any scientific mighty Intellect, matured in his thought,
man for purely scientific ends, without before it was manifested in tangible, ex
any reference to government objects or ternal forms --if, in short, we can prove
direct practical aims.” premeditation prior to the act of creation,
1858.] Agassiz's Natural History. 325

we have donc, once and forever, with the want of space prevents our reproducing
desolate theory which refers us to the at full length the very careful recapitula
laws of matter as accounting for all the tion to be found at the close of the chap
wonders of the universe, and leaves us ter, or the analysis to be found in the
with no God but the monotonous, unva- Table of Contents. With something
rying action of physical forces, binding more of labor than the task of copying
all things to their inevitable destiny." would have been, we have attempted to
One more extract must be given from compress the truths already crowded in
this section , for it is the key to the gene- these brief and pregnant sentences into
ral argument which follows. the still narrower compass of a few lines
“ I disclaim every intention of intro in our straitened pages.
ducing in this work any evidence irrele- The harmony of the universe is a
vant to my subject, or of supporting any manifestation of illimitable intellect, dis
conclusions not immediately flowing from playing itself in various modes of thought,
it; but I cannot overlook nor disregard as these are shown in the characters and
here the close connection there is be- relations of organized beings : unity of
tween the facts ascertained by scientific thought, manifesting itself independently
investigations, and the discussions now of space, of time, of known material
carried on respecting the origin of or- agencies, of special form ,-illustrated by
ganized beings. And though I know repetition of similar types in different
those who hold it to be very unscientific circumstances, by identities, or partial re
to believe that thinking is not something semblances, or serial connections, found
inherent in matter, and that there is an under varying conditions of being ; pow
essential difference between inorganic er of expressing the same idea in innu
and living and thinking beings, I shall merable forms, as in those instances of
not be prevented by any such preten- essential identity of parts in the midst of
sions of a false philosophy from express- formal differences known as special ho
ing my conviction, that, as long as it can- mologies ; power of combination , as in the
not be shown that matter or physical adjustment of organized beings to each
forces do actually reason , I shall con- other and to the inorganic world, or in
sider any manifestation of thought as the harmonious allotment of the most
evidence of the existence of a thinking varied gifts to different beings ; definite
being as the author of such thought, and recognition of time and space, as in the
shall look upon an intelligent and intel- life of individuals, of species, in the sta
ligible connection between the facts of ges of growth, in the geographical lim
nature as direct proof of the existenceitation of types; prescience and omni
of a thinking God, as certainly as man science, as shown in the prophetic types
exhibits the power of thinking when he of earlier geological ages; omnipresence,
rucognizes their natural relations.” by the adjustment of the whole series of
We must content ourselves with the animal organisms to the various parts of
most general statement of the nature the planet they inhabit.
and bearing of the series of propositions The final résumé of Mr. Agassiz is as
which follow . They are illustrated by follows:
a large survey of the material universe “ We may sum up the results of this
in its manifestations of life, and of the discussion, up to this point, in still fewer
relations between the various forms of words.
life to cach other and to the inorganic “ All organized beings exhibit in them
world . These propositions, thirty-one selves all those categories of structure
in number, might be called an analy- and of existence upon which a natural
sis of the qualities of the Infinite Mind system may be founded , in such aa man
exhibited in the realm of organized and ner, that, in tracing it, the human mind
especially of animal being. Nothing but is only translating into human language
326 Agassiz's Natural History. [ January,
the Divine thoughts expressed in Nature which may present complications, again,
in living realities. which to study and understand even im
“ All these beings do not exist in con- perfectly, as, for instance, man himself,
sequence of the continued agency of mankind has already spent thousands of
physical causes, but have made their years. And yet, all this has been done
successive appearance upon earth by the by one Mind, must be the work of one
immediate intervention of the Creator. Mind only, of Him before whom man
As proof, I may sum up my argument in can only bow in grateful acknowledg
the following manner: ment of the prerogatives he is allowed to
“ The products of what are commonly enjoy in this world, not to speak of the
called physical agents are everywhere promises of a future life .”
the same, (that is, upon the whole surface Chapter Second is entitled, “ Lead
of the globe,) and have always been the ing Groups of the existing systems of
same (that is, during all geological peri- animals. ”
ods) ; while organized beings are every- Its nine sections treat successively of
where different, and have differed in all the great types or branches of the ani
ages. Between two such series of phe- mal kingdom , of classes, orilers, families,
nomena there can be no causal or ge- genera, species, other natural divisions,
netic connection. successive development of characters,
“ The combination in time and space and close with some very significant con
of all these thoughtful conceptions ex- clusions on the importance of the study
bibits not only thought, it shows also of classification.
premeditation, power, wisdom , greatness, Mr. Agassiz has attempted to give defi
prescience, omniscience, providence. In niteness to the terms above enumerated,
one word , all these facts in their natural which have been used with various sig
connection proclaim aloud the One God, nificanec, by limiting each one of them
whom man may know, allore, and love; to covering a single category of natural
and Natural History must , in good time, relationship. Thus :
become the analysis of the thoughts of the Branches or types are characterized by
Creator of the Universe, as manifested in their plan of structure.
the animal and vegetable kingiloms.” Classes, by the manner in which that
To this statement we must add two plan is executed , so far as ways and
paragraphs from the pages just preced- mcans are concerned .
ing. (pp. 130, 131.) Orilers , by the degrees of complication
“ If I have succeeded, even very im- of that structure.
perfectly, in showing that the various Families, by their form , so far as deter
relations observed between animals and mined by structure .
the physical world, as well as between Generu , by the details of the execution
themselves, exhibit thought, it follows in special parts.
that the whole has an Intelligent Author ; Species, by the relations of individuals
and it may not be out of place to at- to one another and to the world in
tempt to point out, as far as possible, the which they live, as well as by the pro
difference there may be between Divine portions of their parts, their ornamenta
thinking and human thought. tion , etc.
• Taking nature as exhibiting thought
66
“ And yet there are other natural
for my guide, it appears to me, that, divisions which must be acknowledged
while human thought is consecutive, Di- in a natural zoological system ; but these
vine thought is simultaneous, embracing are not to be traced so uniformly in all
at the same time and forever, in the past, classes as the former,—they are , in real
the present, and the future, the most di- ity, only limitations of the other kinds of
versified relations among hundreds of divisions."
housands of organized beings, each of This chapter must be studied in the
1838.] Agassiz's Natural History. 327

original text, the arguments by which its Zoology, but an examination of the
conclusions are supported hardly adinit- principles involved in each, by the
ting of brief analysis. The mostsuper- one among all living men most fitted to
ficial realer will be interested in Mr. perform the task. No cultivated person
Agassiz's account of the mode in which who desires to know anything of Natural
he sought for the natural boundaries of Science can pass over this portion of the
the various divisions, by observing the work without careful study. Those who
special point of view in which vari- are not prepared to follow the author
ous eminent naturalists have considered through the dciails of the Second Part
their sulject; as, for instance, Audubon , will yet consider these volumes as indis
among the biographers of species,-La- pensable companions for reference, as
treille, among the students of genera.- containing this brief but comprehensive
and Cu : icr, at the head of those who encyclopædia and cominentary, cover
have contemplated the luigher groups, ing the whole philosophical machinery of
such as classes and types. The most in- zoological science.
different reader will be arrested by the For the first section of this chapter
opinions boldly promulgated with refer- dir. Agassiz adopts the fundamental di
ence to species.
66
visions ( branches) of Cuvier, introduc
The evidence that all animals have ing such changes among the classes and
originated in large numbers is growing orders as the progress of science de
so strong, that the idea that every species mands. The second section gives a
existed in the beginning in single pairs short account of the early attempts to
may be said to be given up almost en- classify animals, more particularly of
tirely by naturalists .” “ If we arc led to the divisions established by Aristotle .
admit as the beginning of each species The third section enibraces the period
the simultaneous origin of a large num- of Linnæus, and gives his classification.
ber of individuals, if the same species The fourth , that oi Cuvier, and Anatomi
may originate at the same time in differ- cal systems, with the classifications of
ent localities, these first representatives Cuvier, Lanıarık, De Blainville, Ehren
of each species, at least, were not con- bery, Burmeister, Owen, Milne-Edwards,
nected by sexual derivation ; and as this Von Siebold and Stannius, Leuckart
applies equally to any first pair, this The fifth section includes the Physio
fancied test criterion of specific iilentity philosophical systems, with diagrams of
must at all events be given up, and with Oken's and litzinger's classifications,
it goes also the pretended real existence and a special article for the circular
of the species, in contraddistinction from groups of McLear. The sixth and last
the mole of existence of genera , fam- section is devoted to Embryological sys
ilies, orilers, classes, and types ; for what tems, and presents diagrams of the clas
really exists are individuals, not species.” sifications of Von Baer, Van Beneden,
(pp. 166-167.) Kölliker, and Vogt.
Chapter Third is headed, “ Notice of The SECOND Part of the Mono
the principal systems of Zoology.” It is graph introduces us to the consideration
divided into the six following sections : of aa special subject of Natural History,
General remarks upon modern systems ; the North American Testudinata. Its
Early attempts to classify animals; Peri- three chapters treat successively of this
od of Linnæus; Period of Cuvier, and order of Reptiles, -of its families, - of
-

Anatomical systems ; Physiophilosophical its North American genera and spe

systems; Embryological systems. cies.
This chapter is invaluable to the gen- The TIURD PART, contained in the
eral student, as giving him in a single second volume, is entitled , “ Embryology
view not only a conspectus of the most of the Turtle . ” It consists of two chap
important attempts at, classification in ters : “ Development of the Egg, from
328 Agassiz's Natural History. [ January,
its first appearance to the formation plate, bestowing in archiepiscopal bene
of the embryo." “ Development of the diction on the houseless multitudes, be
Embryo, from the time the egg leaves fore he retires for the night to slumber
the ovary to that of the batching of between his tessellated floor and his fres
the young.” Then follow the explana- coed ceiling
tion of the plates and the plates them- Of the smooth , white eges, with their
selves, thirty -four in number. rounded reliefs and tenderly graduated
We need not attempt to give any light and shadow , all eyes are judges.
account of the parts devoted to the de- But of the exquisite figures showing the
velopment of these particular subjects. various stages of development and the
This we must necessarily leave to the details of structural arrangement, the
journals devoted to scientific matters, uninitiated must take the opinions of a
and the class of students most intimate microscopic expert ; and if they will ac
with these departments of Natural Sci- cept our testimony as that of one not un
ence. familiar with the instrument and the mys
Yet the American who asks for a teries it reveals, we can assure them that
model to work by in his investigations these figures are of supreme excellence.
will find a great deal more than the The lazy semitransparency of the em
“ North American Testudinata ” in the bryonic tissues, the balos, the granules,
part to which that title is prefixed . The the globules, the cell -walls, the delicate
principles of classification exemplified, membranous expansions, the vascular
the methods of description illustrated, the webs, are expressed with purity , soft
rules of nomenclature tested.—what mat- ness, freedom , and a conscientiousness
ter is it whether the gran maestro has which reminds us of Donné's micro
chosen this or that string to play the airscopic daguerreotypes, while in many
upon, when each has compass enough points the views are literally truer to
for all its melody ? nature ,-just as a sculptor's bust of a
Still more forcibly does this comment living person is often more really like
apply to the elaborate and ample division him in character than a cast moulded
of the work embracing the Embryology on his features.
of the Turtle. He who has mastered
the details of this section has at his feet We have attempted to give a slight
the whole broad realm of which this idea of the contents of these two vol
province holds one of the key-fortresses. wes, in the compass of a few pages.
Ex testudine naturam . We have called the reader's attention to
We are unwilling to speak of the illus- various points of special interest, as we
trations comparatively without more ex- were going along. It remains to make
tended means of judgment than we have such comments as suggest themselves to
at hand. But that they are of superlative 113, either in our character of “ the scho
excellence, brilliant, delicate, accurate , liast," or in our own right as a free citi
life - like, and nature -like, is what none zen of the intellectual as well as the
will dispute. Look at these turtles, mod political republic.
els of real-estate owners as they are . WHEXCE ? Why ? WHTER ? These
Observe No. 13, Plate IV., — “ Chelyara are the three great questions that arise
Serpentina,” — “ snapper,” or “ snappin' in the soul of every race anıl of every
turtle, ” in the vernacular. He is out thinking being. Ile who looks at either
collecting rents from the naked -skinned of them with the least new light, though
reptiles, his brethren ; in default thercof, he whisper what he sees ever so softly,
taking the bodies of the aforesaid. Or has the world to listen to him . No mat
behold No. 5, Plate VI. bewailing the ter how lie got his knowledge nor what
wretchedness of those who have no roofs he calls it ; it belongs to mankind . But
to cover them . Or No. 2, of the same “ Science ” has been mainly engaged
1858.] Agassiz's Natural History. 329

with another question, in itself of very which may be fitting and praiseworthy
inferior interest, namely, How ? toil for one class of minds may be igno
We must be pernitted to speak of ble indolence for another. We must re
“ Science ” in our freest capacity, and member, on the other hand , that, however
will endeavor not to abuse our liberty. humble may be the intellectual position
The study of natural phenomena for the of the man of science or knowledge, in
sake of the pleasing variety of aspects distinction from wisdom , the results of his
they present, for the delight of collecting labors may be of the highest importance.
curious speciinens, for the exercise of in- The most ignorant laborer may get a
genuity in detecting the secret methods stone out of the quarry, and the poorest
of Nature, for the gratification of arrang- slave unearth a diamond. These intel
ing facts or objects in regular series, is lectual artisans come to their daily task
an innocent and not a fruitless pursuit. with hypertrophied special organs, fitted
Many persons are born with a natural to their peculiar craft. Some of them
instinct for it, and with special aptitudes are all eyes ; some, all hands ; some are
which may even constitute a kind of self-recording microscopes; others, self
genius. We should do honor to such registering balances. If a man would
power wherever we find it ; honor accord- watch a thermometer every hour of the
ing to its kind and its degree ; but not day and night for ten years, and give a
affix the wrong label to it. Those who table of his observations, the result would
possess it acquire knowledge sometimes be of interest and value. But the bul
so extensive and uncommon that we re- bous extremity of the instrument would
gard them with a certain admiration. probably contain as much thought at the
But knowledge is not wisdom . Unless end of the ten years as that of the ob
these narrow trains of ideas are brought server.
into relation with other and wider ranges Clearly, then, “Science ” does not
of thought, or with the conduct of life, properly belong to “ scientific ” men, un
they cannot aspire to that loftier name. less they happen also to be wise ones ;
We must go farther than this. The not more to them than honey to bees, or
study of the How ? in Nature, or the books to printers. The bee may , cer
simple observation of phenomena, is of- tainly, feed on the honey he has made,
ten used as an opiate to quiet the high- and the printer read the books he has
er faculties. There can be no question put in type. But Vos non vobis is the
of the fact that many persons pass much rule . “ Science ” is knowledge, it is truc,
of their lives working in the in -door but knowledge disarticulated and par
or out-door laboratories of science, just celled out among certain specialists, like
as old women knit, just as prisoners Truth in Milton's glorious comparison.
carve quaintly elaborate toys in their Ile who can restore each part to its true
dungeons. The product is not absolutely position, and orient the lesser whole in
useless in either case ; the fingers of the its relations to the universe, he it is to
body or of the mind become swift and whom science belongs. He must range
cunning , but the soul does not grow through all time and follow Nature to
under such culture. We are willing to her farthest bounds. Then he can dis
allow that many of those who browse in sect beetles like Straus Durekheim , with
the sleepy meadows of : jinless observa- out becoming a myope. But even this
tion,-loving to keep their heads down is not enough. Let us sec what quali
as they gaze at and gather their narcotic ties would go to make up the ideal mod
herbs, rather than lift them to the hori- el of the truly wise student of Nature .
zon beyond or the heaven above , -act in He must have, in the first place, as the
obedience to the law of their limited na- substratum of his faculties, the power of
tures. Still, let us recognize the limita- observation , with the passion that keeps
tion , and not forget that the pursuit it active and the skilful hand to serve its
330 Agassiz's Natural History. [ January,
needs. Secondly, a quick ere for rescm- bones recognized by Owen are the same
blances and differences. Thirdly, a wide Oken has described. But notwithstand
range of mental vision. Fourthly, the ing the generous tribute of Mr. Agassiz
coordinating or systematizing faculty. to his great merits, the writer who assigns
Fifthly, a large scholarship. Lastly, and special colors to the persons in the Trini
without which all these gifts fall short of ty, (red, blue, and green ,) and then allots
their ultimate aim , an instinct for the to Satan a constituent of one of these ,
highest forms of truth ,—a centripetal (yellow ,) has drifted away from the solid
tendeney, always seeking the idea behind anchorage of observation into the shore
the form , the Deity in his manifestations, less waste of the inanc, if not amidst the
and thence working outward again to dark abysses of the profane.
solve those infinite problems of life and If the widest range of mental vision,
its destinies which are, in reality, all that joined, too , with great learning, could
the thinking soul most lives for. make a successful student of Nature,
It is as easy to find all these qualities Lord Bacon should have stood by the
separate as it is to turn beneath the finger side of Linnæus. But open the “ Syl
one of the letters of a revolving padlock. va Sylvarum ” anywhere and see what
But they must all be brought together in Bacon was as a naturalist. • It was
line before the grand portals of Nature's observed in the Great Plague of the last
hypäthral temple will open to her chosen yeare, that there were seene in divers
stulent. How incomplete the man of Ditches and low Grounds about London,
science is with only one or two of these many Toads that had Tailes, two or
endowments may be seen by a few ex- three inches long, at the least: Whereas
amples. Toails (usually ) have no Tailes at all.
The power and instinct of observation Which argueth a great disposition to
coinbined with the most consummate skill Putrefaction in the Soile and dire.”
do not nece
cessarily make a great philo- This in that “ great birth of time,” the
66
sophical naturalist. Leeuwenhoek had • Instauration of the Sciences ” !
all these. They bore admirable fruits,The systematizing or coördinating pow
too. We cannot but read the old man's er is worse than nothing, unless it be sup
letters to the Royal Society, written, ported by the other qualities already
if we remember right, after the age mentioned . Darwin had it, and some
of eighty, with delight and almiration. thing of what is called genius with it ; but
Those little lenses in their silver mount- where is now the “ Zoönomia ” ?
ings, all ground and set and fashioned by And what is erudition without the pow
his own hand , showed him the blooil- er to correct errors by appealing to Na
globules, and the “pipes ” of the teeth, ture, to arrange methodically, to use wise
which Purkinje and Retzius found with ly ? It would be a shame to mention any
their achromatic microscopes a century name in illustration of its insignificance.
later. We honor his skill and sagacity Our shelves bend and crack under the
as they deserve ; but aa little trick of Mr. load of unwise and learned authorship.
Dollond's, applied to the microscopie ob- There are two stages in every student's
ject-glass, has left all his achievements life. In the first he is afraid of books;
a mere matter of curious history . in the second books are afraid of him.
Few have been more remarkable for For they are a great community of thieves,
perceiving resemblances and differences and one finds the same stolen patterns in
than Oken. This is the poetical side all their pockets. Though ofien dressed
of the scientific mind ; and he shares in sheep's clothing, they have the maw
with Goethe the honor of that startling of wolves. When the student has once
and far-reaching discovery, the vertebral found them out, he lauglis at the preten
character of the bones of the cranium. sions of crudition, and strides gayly up
At this very time the four vertebral cranial and down great libraries, feeling that the
1858.] Agassiz's Natural History. 331

most blustering folio of them all will turn Cuvier was such a man. Alone, and
as pale as if it were bound in law -calf, if unapproached in his own spheres of
he only lay his hand on its shoulder. knowledge, his “ Report on the Progress
"
Nor, lastly, can any elevation of aim, of the Natural Sciences ” is only an in
any thirst for the divine springs of knowl- dex to the wide range of his intellect.
edge, enable a man to dispense with the In one point, however, we must own
sober habits of observation and the posi- that he seems slow of appreliension or
tive acquirements that must give him the limited by preconceived opinions,-in
stamina to attempt the higher flights of his reception of the homologies pointed
thought. The cagle's wings are nothing out by Oken and the Physiophilosophical
without his pectoral muscles. It is not obscrvers.
Swedenborg and his disciples that legis- In the same range of intellects we
late for the scientific world ; they may should reckon Linnicus and Humboldt,
suggest truth, but they rarely prove it, and should have reckoned Goethe, had
and never bring it into such systematiche given himself to science.
forms as narrow-minded Nature will in- We do not assume to say where in the
sist on laying down. category of fully equipped intelligences
That all these qualities which go to Mr. Igassiz belongs. But if the union
make up our ideal should exist in abso- of the most extraordinary observing
lute perfection in any single man of powers with an alınost poetic perception
mortal birth is not to be expected. But of analogies, with a wide compass of
there are names in the history of Science thought, the classifying instinct and habit,
which recall so imposing a combination large knowledge of books, and personal
of these several gifts, that, comparing the intimacy with the leaders in various de
men who bore them with the civilization partments of knowledge, and with this
of their time, we can hardly conceive the upward -looking aspect of mind and
that uninspired intellect should come heart, which is the crowning gift of all,
nearer the imaginary standard . Such a if the union of these qualities can give
man was Aristotle. The slender and to the man of science a claim to the no
close -shaven fop, with the showy mantle bler name of wisdom , it is not flattery,
on bis ungraceful person and the costly but justice, to award this distinction to
rings on his fingers, who hung on the lips Mr. Agassiz.
of Plato for twenty years, and trained To him, then, we listen , when , after
the boy of Macedon to whatever wis having sounded every note in the wide
dom he possessed ,—whose life was set by gamut of Nature, after reading the story
destiny between the greatest of thinkers of life as it stands written in the long
and the greatest of conquerors,-seems scries of records reaching from Cambrian
to have borrowed the intellect of the one fossils to ovarian germs, after tracing the
and the universal aspirations of the other. divine principle of order from the star
But because he invalled every realm of like flower at his feet to the flower -like
knowledge, it must not be thought he circle of planets which spreads its fiery
dealt with Nature at second -hand. He corolla, in obedience to the same simple
was a collector and a dissector. Hc law that disposes the leaves of the grow
could display the anatomical structure of ing plant,—as our eminent mathema
a fish as well as write a treatise on the tician tells 115,-he relates in simple and
universe or on rhetoric, or government reverential accents the highest truths he
or logic, or music or mathematies. De- has learned in traversing God's mighty
throned we call him ; and yet Mr. Agas- universe. For him, and such as him ,
siz quotes his descriptions with respect, for us, too , if we read wisely, —the toiling
and confesses that the systematic classifi- slaves of science, often working with
cation of animals makes but one stride little consciousness of the full proportions
from Aristotle to Linnæus. of the edifice they are helping to con
332 Agassiz's Natural History. [ January ,
struct, have spent their busy lives. All opher, Sir Thomas Browne, repeats the
knowledge asserts its true dignity when same doctrine in a new phrazeology :
once brought into relation with the grand “ Before Abraham ras, I am, is the
end of knowledge,-a wider and deeper saying of Christ; yet it is true in some
view of the sjenificance of conscious and sense, if I say it of myself; for I was not
unconscious created being, and the char- only before myself, but Idam , that is, in
acter of its Creator. the idea of God , and the decree of that
We shall clove this article with some Synod beld from all eternity. And in
fumarks upon the great doctrines that this sense, I say, the World was before
dominate all the manifold subordinate the Creation, and at an end before it
thoughts which fill these crowded pages. had a beginning ; and thus was I dead
The plan of creation, Jír. Agassiz main- before I was alive; though my grare be
tains, “ has not grown out of the neces. England, my dying place was Paradise ;
sary action of physical laws, but was the and Eve miscarried of me before she
free conception of the Almighty Intel conceived of Cain."
lect, matured in his thought before it was The slender reed through which Phi
manifested in tangible, external forms." losophy breathed her first musical whis
Before Mr. Agassiz, before Linnæus, be- perings is laid by, and the sacred lyre of
fore Aristotle, before Plato, Timæus the Theology is silent or little heeded . But
Lorian spake ;—the original, together the mighty organ of Modern Science
with the version we cite , is given with with its hundred stops, each answering to
the Plato of Ficinus :—" Duas esse rerum some voice of Nature, takes up the paus
omnium causas : mentem quidem , carum ing strain, and as we listen we recognize
quæ ratione quadam nascuntur, et neccs- through all its mingling harmonies the
sitatem , earum quæ existunt vi quadani, simple, sublime, eternal melody that
sccundum corporum potentias et faculta- came from the lips of Tinæus the Lo
tes. Harum rerum , id est, Naturæ bono- crian ! The same doctrine reappears in
rum , optimum esse quoddam rerum opti various forins: in the popular works of
maruin principium , et Deum vocari. .... Derham and Paley and the Bridgewater
Essc præterea in hac Naturæ universitate Treatises ; in the learned and thoughtful
quiddam quod maneat et intelligibile sit, pages of Burlach, and in the mystical
rerum genitaruin, quæ quidem in perpe- rhapsodlies of Oken. But never , we
tuo quodam mutationum fluxu versantur, believe , was it before enforced and illus
exemplar, Ideam dici et mente compre- trated by so imperial a survey of the
hendi. ....Permanet igitur mundus con- whole domain of Natural Science as in
stanter talis qualis est creatus a Deo .... the volumes before us.
proponente sibi non exemplaria quædam We are not disposed to discuss at any
manuum opificio edita, sed illam Ideam length the opinion maintained by Mr.
intelligibilemqne essentiam . ” — So taught Agassiz, that life has not grown out of
the half -inspired pagan philosopher whom the necessary action of the physical laws.
Plato took as his quicle in his contempla- If we accept the customary definitions
tions of Nature.
of the physical laws, we accele most
We trace the thought again in Dante, cordially to his proposition. As opposed
ainidst the various fragments of ancient to the fancies of Epicurus and his poet,
wisulom which he has embodied in the Lucretius, or to modern atheistic doc
“ Divina Commedia " : trines of similar character, we have no
Ciò che non muore e ciò che può morire qualification or condition to suggest which
Non è se non splendor di quella idea might change its force or significance.
Che partorisce, amando, il nostro Sire.When we remember that the genius of
Paradiso, XIII. 52–54. such a man as Laplace shared the farth
Two thousand years after the old est flight of star-wed science only to
Greek had written, the Christian philos- " waft us back the tidings of despair,” we
1858.] Agassiz's Natural History. 333
are thankful that so profound aa student specific agencies, and their acts specific
of Nature as Mr. Agassiz has tracked the acts, -in other words, each one of them a
warm foot-prints of Divinity throughout Divine manifestation. Theology is close
all the vestiges of creation . upon us in these speculations. “ Per
There is danger, however, that, in ac- haps," says Mr. Robertson , in the vol
cepting this doctrine as a truth, we may umc of admirable seminons just repub
be led into an inexact conception of the lished , “ even the Eternal himself is
so -called physical laws, unless we closely inore closely bound to his works than
examine the sense in which we use the our philosophical systems have conceived .
expression . The forces which act ac- Perhaps matter is only a mode of
cording to these laws, and the various thought.” Looking , then, at our recog
forms of the so -called matter , or concrete nized forms of matter and physical force
forces, are often spoken of as if they as expressions of a self-limiting omnipo
were blind agencies and existences, act- tence , we concede that the uniform lines
ing by an inherent fate -like power of of action in which human observation
.
their own . But if everything outside of has hitherto traced them do not, and, so
our consciousness resolves itself, in the far as we can sec , cannot, shape the
last analysis, into force, or something curves of the simplest organism .
capable of producing change , and if It is time for us to close these volumes ,
force existing by the will of an oinni- to which we cannot even hope to have
scient and onnipresent Being, to whom done justice, and leave them to those
time has no absolute significance, is sim- graver tribunals that will in due season
ply God himself in action , then we shall award their well-weighed decisions. We
find it impossible to limit the causal have taken the Master's hand , and fol
agency of the physical forces. All we lowed Nature through all her paths of
can say is, that commonly they appear life. We have trod with him the shores
to move in certain rectilinear paths, in of old occans that roll no more , and
which they manifest a degree of uniform- traced the Providence that orders the
ity and precision so amazing that we are creation of to-day engraved in every
lost in the infinite intelligence they dis- stony feature of their obsolete organ
play ,—unless we become perfectly stupid isins. We have broken into that mys
to it, and think , as in the old fable , there terious chamber , the chosen studio of
is no music in it because we are made the Infinite Artist , where , beneath its
deaf by its continued harmony. No marble or crystalline dome , he fashions
single leaf ever made a mistake in fall- the embryo from its formless fluids. And
a

ing, though in so doing it solved more as we turn reluctantly away , the accents
problems than were ever held in all the we have once already heard linger with
libraries that have changed or arc chang- us : “In one word, all these facts in
ing into dust or ashes. their natural connection proclaim aloud
We are willing to accept the belief of the One God , whom man may know ,
Mr. Agassiz, “ that matter does not exist adore, and love ; and Natural Ilistory
as such, but is everywhere and always a must, in good time, become the analysis
specific thing, as are all finite beings." of the thoughts of the Creator of the
But we mustextend the same idea to the Universe, as manifested in the animal
physical forces, and believe them to be and vegetable kingdoms.”
334 Tucking Ship off Shore. [ January,

TACKING SHIP OFF SIIORE .

1.

The weather leech of the topsail shivers,

The bowlines strain and the lee shroudls slacken,
The braces are taut, the lithe boom quivers,
And the waves with the coming squall-cloud blacken.
II.
Open one point on the weather bow
Is the light-house tall on Fire Island head ;
There's aa shade of doubt on the captain's brow,
And the pilot watches the heaving lead.
III.

I stand at the wheel and with eager eye

To sea and to sky and to shore I gaze,
Till the muttered order of “ FULL AND BY ! ”
Is suddenly changed to “ FULL FOR STAYS ! ”
IV.

The ship bends lower before the breeze,

As her broadside fair to the blast she lays ;
And she swifter springs to the rising seas,
As the pilot calls, “ STAND) BY FOR STAYS ! ”
V.

It is silence all, as cach in his place,

With the gathered coils in his hardened hands,
By tack and bowline, by sheet and brace,
Waiting the watchword impatient stands.
VI.

And the light on Fire Island head draws near,

As, trumpet-winged, the pilot's shout
From his post on the bowsprit's heel I bear,
With the welcome call of " Ready ! ABOUT ! ”
VII.

No time to spare ! It is touch and go,

And the captain growls, “ DOWN IIELM ! HIARD Dowx ! ”
As my weight on the whirling spokes I throw,
While heaven grows black with the storm -cloud's frown.
VIII .

High o'er the knight-heads flies the spray,

As we meet the shock of the plunging sea ;
And my shoulder stiff to the wheel I lay,
As I answer, “ AYE, AYE, Sır ! HA-A-R-D A-LEE ! ”
1858.] Tacking Ship off Shore. 335

IX.

With the swerving leap of aa startled steed

The ship Nies fast in the eye of the wind,
The dangerous shoals on the lee recede,
And the headland white we have left behind .
X.

The topsails flutter, the jibs collapse

And belly and tug at the groaning cleats,
The spanker slats, and the mainsail flaps,
And thunders the order, “ TACKS AND SHEETS ! ”
XI.

Mid the rattle of blocks and the tramp of the crew ,

Hisses the rain of the rushing squall;
The sails are aback from clew to clew,
And now is the moment for “ MAIXSAIL, IAUL ! ”
XII.

And the heavy yards like aa baby's toy

By fifty strong arms are swiftly swung ;
She holds her way, and I look with joy
For the first white spray o'er thc bulwarks flung.
XIII.

“ LET GO AND HAUL ! ” ' Tis the last command,

And the head -sails fill to the blast once more ;
Astern and to leeward lies the land,
With its breakers white on the shingly shore.
XIV.

What inatters the reef, or the rain, or the squall ?

I steady the helm for the open sea ;
The first mate clamors, “ BELAY THERE , ALL ! ”
And the captain's breath once more comes free.
XV.

And so off shore let the good ship fly ;

Little care I how the gusts may blow,
In my fo’castle -bunk in a jacket dry , –
Eight bells have struck, and any watch is below .
 336 Mamoul. [ January,

MAMOUL.

THROUGH THE COSSITOLLAH KALEIDOSCOPE.

UNDER my window, in the street called Lard Sahib, ( as in domestic Bengalee we

Cossitollah , flows all the motliness of a designate the Governor-General,) its sol
Calcutta thoroughtare in two counter- emn sham battles, and its welkin-rending
setting currents ;-one Chowringee -ward, regimental bands, by whose brass and
in the direction of Nabob magnificence sheepskin God saves the Queen twice a
and grace ; the other toward the Cooly day ; from Government House, with its
squalor and deformity of the Radda Ba- historic pride, pomp, and circumstance,
zaar ;—and as, in the glare of the carly and its red tape, its aides-de-camp, and
forenoon sun, the shadows of the hither its adjutantabirds, its stirring associations,
or thither passing throngs fall straight and its stupid architecture ; from the
across the way, from the Parsee's go- pensioned aristocracy of Chowringhee the
down, over against me, to the gate of Magnificent; from the carnival concourse
the pucca house wherein my look-out is, of the Esplanade, with its kaleidoscopic
I watch with interest the frequent ed- surprises ; from the grim patronage of
dies occasioned by the clear-steerings of Fort William, with its in -every -depart
caste ,-Brahmin, Warrior, and Merchant ment-well-regulated fee-faw -fum ; in fine,
keeping severely to the Parsec side, so from Clive, and Hastings, and Welling
that the foul shadow of Soodra or Pariah ton , and Gough, and Hardinge, and Na
may not pollute their sacred persons. It pier, and Bentinck, and Ellenborough,
is as though my window were a tower of and Dalhousie, and all the John Com
Allahabad, and below me, in Cossitollah, pany that has come of them ;‫ ܪ‬from the
were the shy meeting of the waters. tremendous and overwhelming Sahib,
Thus, looking up or down, I mark how to that most profoundly abject of human
the limpid Jumna of high caste holds its objects, the Hindoo Pariah, (who ap
way in a common bed, but never ming- proaches thee, 0 Awful Being ! O Be
ling with the turbid Ganges of an un- nign Protector of the Poor ! O Writer in
clean rabble . the Salt-and -Opium Office ! on his hands
Reader, should you ever “ do ” the and knees, and with a wisp of grass in his
City of Palaces, permit me to commend mouth, to denote that he is thy beast,) —
with especial emphasis to your considera- from all those to this, the shortest cut is
tion this same Cossitollah, as a represen- through Cossitollah.
tative street, wherein the European and And so, in the current of its passengers,
Asiatic elements of the Calcutta pano- partaking the characteristics of its con
rama are mingled in the most picturesque trasted extremities, fantastically blending
proportions; for Cossitollah is the link the purple and fine linen of Chowringhee
that most directly joins the pitiful be- with the breech -cloths of the Black Town ,
nightedness of the Black Town to the Cossitollah is, as I have said, preëmi
imposing splendors of Kunpnee Baha- nently the type street of Calcutta. Other
door,—the short, but stubborn chain of localities have their peculiar throngs, and
responsibility, as it were , whereby the certain classes and castes are proper to
ball of helpless and infatuated stock-and- certain thoronghfares ;-Sepoys and dog
stone -worship is fastened to the leg of boys to the Midaun ; circars or clerks,
British enlightenment and accountability. and chowkeydars or private police, to
From the Midaun, or larade Ground, Tank Square ; a world of pampered wom
with its long -drawn arrays of Sepoy chiv- en , fat civil servants, coachmen, ayahs
alry, its grand reviews before the Burra or nurses, durwans or doorkeepers, cha
 1858.] Mamoul. 337

prasseys or messengers, kitmudgars or Not he, the greenhorn !

waiters, to Garden Rcach ; palanquin Putterum .
bearers, the smaller fry of banyans or Don't understand us !
Putterum.
shopkeepers, and dandees or boatmen , Don't know the lingo !
to the Ghauts; together with no end of Putterum.
coolies, and bheestees or water-carriers, Let's shake the palkee !
horse -dealers, and syces or grooms, to Putterum .
Durumtollah; sailors, British and Ameri Rattle the pig's bones !
Putterum .
can , Malay and Lascar, to Flag Street, Set down the palkee !
the quarter of punch -houses ;-but in Putterum .
Cossitollah all castes and vocations are Call him a great lord !
met, whether their talk be of gold mo Putterum .
hurs or cowries ; here the Sahib gives Ask him for buksheesh !
Putterum ."
the horrid leper a wide berth, and the
Baboo walks carefully round the shadow And the four consummate knaves do
of Mehtur, the sweeper. Therefore, set down the palkee, and shift the pads
reader, Cossitollah is by all means the on their shoulders ; while the sirdar slips
street for you to draw profound conclu- round to the sliding door, and timidly in
sions from . truding his sweaty phiz, at an opening
Come, let us sit in the window and ob- sufficiently narrow to guard his nose
serve; it is but forty puffs of a No. 3 against assault from withini, but wide
cheroot, in a lazy palanquin, from one enough to give us a glimpse, through an
end of Cossitollah to the other ; and from out-bursting cloud of cheroot-smoke, of a
our window, though not exactly midway, pair of stout legs encased in white duck,
but nearer the Bazaar, we can see from with the neatest of light pumps at the
Flag Street wellnigh to the Midaun . end of them , says :
What is this ? A close palkee, with “ Buksheesh do, Sahib ! buksheesh do !
O favorite slave of the Lord ! O tender
a passenger ; the bearers, with elbows shepherd of the poor! O sublime and
sharply crooked, and calves all varicose, beautiful Being, upon whoseturban Pros
trotting to a monotonous, jerking ditty, perity dancesandPeace makes her bed !
which the sirdar, or leader, is impudently Whose mother is twin - sister to the Sacred
improvising, to the refrain of Putterum , Cow , and whose grandmother is the Lotos
( “ Easy now ! ” ) at the expense of their of Seven Virtues ! O Khodabund ! buk
fare's amour - propre.
sheesh do ! Bestow upon thy abject and
“ Out of the way there ! self-despising slave wherewithal to com
Putterum .
This is a Rajah ! memorate the golden hour when, by a
Putterum . blessed dispensation, he was permitted to
Very small Rajah ! lay his trembling forehead against thy
Putterum . victorious feet !”
Sixpenny Rajah ! “ Jou-jehannum , toom sooa ! - Go to
Putterum .
Holes in his elbows !
Gehenna, you pig ! What are you both 1

Putterum . ering about, with your • boxes,' • boxes ,'

Capitan Slipshod! nothing but • boxes ' ? Insatiable brutes!
Putterum . Jou ! I tell you ,-jeldie jou ! or by Door
Son of a sea -cook ! ga, the goddess of awful rows, I'll smash
Putterum . the palkce and outrage all your religious
Hush ! he will beat us !
Putlerum.
prejudices ! Jou !”
Hush ! he will kick us ! Evidently our varicose friends imag
Putterum. ine they have caught a Tartar, and that
Kick us and curse us ! the white ducks are not so recent an im
Putterum . portation as they at first supposed ; for
VOL . I. 22
338 Mamoul. [ January,
now they catch up the pole of the palkce man, 'very solemn,- two tall hurkarus, or
niinbly, and jou jeldie (that is, trot up avant-couriers, supporting the box, one
smartly ) to quite another song. on either side, with studied symmetry,
" Jeldie jou , jeldie ! like Siva and Vishnu upholding the
Putterum , throne of Bralıma, -four syces running
Carry him softly ! at the horses' heads, cach with his chow
Pullerum . ree, or fly -flapper, made from the tail of
Swiftly and smoothly ! the Thibet cow , -a fifth before, to clear
Putterum .
He is a Rajah ! the way ;-a basket of Simpkin , which is
Pulterum . as though one should say Champagne,
Rich little Rajah ! behind ,-and our own banyan , our man
Pullerum . of contracts and ready lacs, that shrewd
Fierce little Rajah ! broker and substantial banker, the Baboo
Pulterum .
Kalidas Ramaya Dullick , on the back
See how his cyes flash ! scat.
Putterum .
Hear how his roice roars ! “ Hi ! Chattah-wallah ! Bheestee !—Ili !
Putterum . hi !-You chap with the umbrella, you
He is a Tippon ! fellow with the water, clear the way !
Putterum . This Baboo comes, this Baboo rides, -he
Capitan Tippoo! stops not, he stays not, -he is rich, he is
Putterum .
honored . Shall a pig impede him ?
Treinble before him !
Piutterum . Shall a pig delay him ? Jump, sova ,
Serve him and please lim ! jump ! ”
Pullerum . And thus, amid much vociferation,
Please him and serve liin ! and unceremonious dispersing of the
Puttenen .
He will reward us ! common herd, who dodge with practised
Pullermain . agility right and left, the fat and clabo
He will protect 11- ! rate coachman pulls up the spanking
Puiteram . Arabs at our godown gate, and the Ba
He will enrich us ! boo alights with the air of a gentleman
Pulterum .
of thirty lacs, to the manner born ; to
Charity Lard Sa'b !
Pullerum .
him all this outcry is but Mamoul ,
Out of tlic war there ! usage, custom ,-and Mamoul is to him as
Pulterum . air.
Way for the great ... As the Baboo steps through the wide.
Putterum . swinging gate and enters the place that
Rijal of ten crores ! owns him master, let us mark his recep
Pulter ....
Ten crores ! ..
tion. The duruan first,-our grenadier
Puiter .... doorkeeper, the man of proud port and
Rajah ... commanding presence , to whom that por
Pui...... tal is a post of honor,-our Athos, Por
. Lard . thos, and Aramis, in one, of courage ,
Putler ....
strength, and address enlisted with fidel
.Sa'b !
.rum . ity. The loyalty of Ramee Durwan is
threefold, in this order : first, to his caste,
And so they have turned down Flag next, to his beard, and then to his post ;
Street. only for the two first would he abandon
the last ; his life he holds of less account
But what now ? Here is something than either.
more imposing, - a chariot-and-four, -As the Baboo passes, Ramee Durwan,
four spanking Arabs in gold-mounted you think, will be ready with profound
trappings,-a fat and elaborate coach- and obsequious salaam . Not so ; he
1858.] Mamoul. 339

draws himself up to the very last of his lordly beneficence in Mutty Loll's atti
extraordinary inches, and touches his tude and gesture, as with outstretched
forehead lightly with the fingers of his hands, palms upward, he greets the Ba
right hand , only slightly inclining his boo condescendingly with aa gift of good
heal,-a not more than affable salute, - will !
almost with a quality of concession ,- “ Idhur ano, Sirdar, idhur ano !—Come
gracious as well as graceful ; he would do hither, Karlee, my gentle bearer, thou
as much for any puppy of a cadet who of the good heart and gray moustache !
might drop in on the Sahib . On the Come hither, and enlighten this Sabib's
other hand, lowly louteth the Baboo, ignorance ; tell him why the Durwan is
with eyes downcast and palm applied disdainful, as toward the Baboo, and the
reverentially to his sleek forehead . Circar solemn .” .
How now ? This Baboo is a banyan “ Han , Sahib ! That Durwan Ksatri
of solid substance, and the Mullicks all ye, Soldier caste, Rider caste , feest-i
rat-i-man ( first-rate man ) ; that Durwan
are citizens of credit and renown ; while
Ramec Durwan gets five rupees a month , have got Rajpoot blood , ver-iproud, all
and makes his bed at the gate. Last same Sahib . Baboo, Merchant caste ,
year, they say , when little Dwarkanath ver-igooil caste, plenty rich, but not so
Mullick, the Baboo's adopted son, nine proud Durwan caste ; Baboo not have
years old , was married to the tender Rajpoot blood , not have i-sharp i-sword ,
child Vinda, old Lulla Seal's darling, on not have musiket. Durwan arm all same
her fifth birthday, the Baboo Kalidas tiger ; Durwan beard all same lion ;
Ramaya Mullick made the occasion fa- Durwan plenty i-strong, plenty proud.
mous by liberating fifty prisoners-for- “ That Circar,-ab ! that Mutty Loll,
debt, of the Soodra sort, with as many too , high caste ; that Circar Brahmin ,
flourishes of his illustrious signature.
Kooleen Brahmin, — all same Swamy
Ramec Durwan has not a change of (god) ; that Circar foot all samc Baboo
turbans. head ; that Circar shoe all samc Baboo
And now the Baboo passes into the turban . 'Spose Baboo not make that
godown, and receives from a score of ser- Circar bhote -whole salaam , that Cir
vile circars, glibbest of clerks, their ser- car say curse , that Circar ispeak jou
eral reports of the day's business. Pres- jehannum (go to hell). Master und
ently, from his low desk, in the lowliest istand i-me ? I ispeak Master so Master
corner, uprises, and comes forward quiet- know ? ”
ly, Mutty Loll Roy, the head circar,- "66 Very clear, Karlee ,—and wholesome
venerable, placid, pensive, every way in- cxpounding. But here comes the Ba
teresting ; but he is only the Baboo's boo to speak for himself. — Good -day, Ba
head circar, an humble accountant, on boo ! Whither so fast with the spanking
fifteen rupees a month. Do you per Arabs and the Simpkin ?—to the garden
ceive that fact in the style of his salu- house ? ”
tation ? Ilardly ; for the Baboo piously “ To the garden -house, Sahib ; and the
raises his joined hands high above his Simpkin is for two young English friends
head, and, louting lower than before, of mine, who will do the garden -house
murmurs the Orthodox salutation, Na- the honor to make it their own for a day
maskarum ! Yet the Baboo contributed or two. "
two thousand rupees in fireworks to the “ Take care , Baboo ! take care ! I
last Doorga Pooja, and sent a hundred have my doubts as to the Simpkin .
goats to the altar ; while only with many They do say the orthodoxy of Young
and trying shifts of saving could Mutty Bengal’men is none the better for beef
Loll afford gold leaf for one image , bc- steaks and Heidseck ; such dict does not
sides two tomtoms and a horn to march become the son of a strict and straight
before it in procession. But behold the going heathen . Well may the Brahmins
340 Mamoul. [ January,
groan for the glaring scandals of the one -horse vehicles, with but one half
new lights; you'll be marrying widows naked syce running at the pony's head,
next, and dining at clubs with fast en- and never a footman near, passes the
signs." spanking Arabs; the plain turban of a
“ Sahib, Caste is God, and Mamoul is respectable accountant in the Honorable
his prophet. The church of the Chur- Company's coal office at Garden Reach
ruck post and the orgies of Hooly are in shows between the Venetian slats of the
no danger from beef or Simpkin so long little window , and lo ! our fine Baboo
as steak or bottle costs a man his inherit- steps out of his slippers, and standing
ance ; and we of Young Bengal know barefoot in the common dust of Cossitol
too well how hard are the ways of the lah , —dust that has been churned by all
Pariah to try them for fun. Caste is the pigs'-fect that ply that promiscuous
God , and Mamoul is his prophet. The thoroughfare,-humbly touches first the
' glad tidings of great joy your mission- vulgar ground and then his elegant tur
aries bring fall upon cars stopped with ban, murmuring a pious Namaskarum ;
family pride and the fainily jewels : you for the respectable accountant in the
know that appropriate old saw in our Honorable Company's coal office is, like
6
proverbial philosophy, “ What is the Mutty Loll, a Kooleen Brahmin , only a
news of the day to a frog in aa well ? ' — little more so. Caste is God, and Ma
Salaam , Sahib ! I have but a few min- moul is his prophet !
utes to spare, and the supercargo is wait- At the gate -lodge of the Baboo's gar
ing with the indigo samples.” den -house on the Durumtollah Road, a
Presently, as the Cossitollah panorama gray and withered bag, all crippled and
flows on beneath our window, with all its leprosied, sits durhna.
bizarreness from the bazaars, —its box- What may that be ?
wallahs, and its pawn -makers, its ped- Be patient; you shall know.
dlers of toys, its money -changers and When the Baboo was as yet a youth,
shopmen, its basket -makers and mat- his uncle Rajinda, the pride of the Mul
weavers and chattah -menders, its per- licks, died of cholera, and the adminis
ambulating cobblers and tailors, its jug- tration of the estate devolved upon our
glers, gymnasts, and match -girls, — its free-thinking Kalidas. Of course there
fellows who feed on glass bottles for the were mortgages to foreclose, and delin
astonishment and delectation of the Sa- quent debtors to stir up. A certain small
hibs, or who, if you have such a thing shopkeeper of the China Bazaar was
as a sheep about you, will undertake to responsible to the concern for a few
slaughter and skin it with their teeth thousand rupees, wherewith he had been
and devour it on the spot,-its conjure- accommodated by Uncle Rajinda as a
wallahs, who, for a few picc, will run basis for certain operations in seersuck
sharp foils through each other's bodies ers and castor-oil, that had yielded no
without for a moment disturbing either returns. So our Baboo, in a curt chit,
health or cheerfulness, or will make (that is, note, or sheet of paper, as near
mangoes grow under table -cloths, “ all as a Bengalee can come to the word ,)
fair and proper,” while Master waits , bade the small speculator of China Ba
as the Brahmin still dodges the shadow zaar come down forthwith with the ru
of the Soodra, and the Soodra spits upon pees.
the footprint of the Pariah, the Baboo But, behold you now , " he had paid ,"
returns to his chariot; the fat and sol- he said. By the Holy Ganges and the
66

emn coachman gathers up the reins, the Blessed Cow ! by the turban of his father
hurkarus assume their symmetrical atti- and the veil of his mother ! restitution
tudes on the box, the syces bawl, and had been made long ago," the old man
the scoas jump. said ; " and the soul of Uncle Rajinda, the
Just now a palkee-gharree, cheapest of pride of the Mullicks, had no reason to
1858.] Mamoul. 341

be disquieted for the rupees, though the stow it,—till Siva, the Avenger, should
seersuckers had been but vanity, and the behold her, and ask, “Who has done
castor-oil vexation of spirit .” this ? ”
“ Produce the documents,” said the And who shall challenge her ? Who
Baboo, with a business- like impassibility shall bid her move on ? Mamoul has
that in Wall Street would have made crowned her Queen of Tears, and her
him a great bear ; — “ where are the re- sublime patience and appealing have
ceipts ? ” made a throne of the wayside stone on
“ My Lord, I know not. Prostrating which she sits ; there is no power so au
my unworthy turban beneath the love- dacious that it would give the word to
ly lilies of your feet, I swear to my gu depose her ; her matted gray locks and
reeb purwar, the destitute -and -humble- her furrowed cheeks, her sunken eyes
protecting lord, by the Holy Water and and her hungry lips, are her " sacred
the Blessed Cow , by the beard of my ashes ” of the high caste of Sorrow .
>

father and the veil of my mother, that I The Brahmin averts his face as he
settled the little account long ago ! ” passes, and mutters, “ She is as the flower
That unhappy speculator in seersuck- which is out of reach , -- she is dedicat
ers and castor oil died in prison, and a ed to God .” That insolent official, the
gooroo ( that is, a spiritual teacher) feed Baboo's pampered durwan, sees in her
by the Baboo, desolated his last hour with only Mamoul; he would as soon think of
the assurance that he should transmigrate shaving himself as of driving her away.
into the bodies of seven generations of So, as the Baboo passes in or out through
gharree-horses, and drag feringhee sailor- the great gate, the solemn coachman
men, in a state of beer, from the ghauts whips up the spanking Arabs, and the
to the punch -houses, all his miserable syces bawl louder than ever, and Kalidas
lives. Ramaya Mullick turns away his eyes.
Now whether or not the unlucky little But for all that, the durhna woman heaps
spcculator had in good faith discharged dust upon her head, which he sees, and
the debt will, in all the probabilities of mutters a weird warning, which he hears;
human rights and wrongs, never appear and though the lawn is wide, and the
this side of the last trump; for the Holybanian topes are leafy, and a gilded
Water and the Sacred Cow, his father's temple, the family shrine, stands between,
beard and his mother's veil, were not and the marble veranda is spacious, and
good in law, the documents not forth- the state apartments are remote, they do
coming say the shadow of the durhna woman
But it is certain that his widow had falls on the iced Simpkin and the steaks,
faith in his integrity; for at once, with all in spite of Young Bengal.
her sorrows on her head, she sallied forth
in quest of justice ; and from Brahmin Mootrib i koosh nuwà bigo,
Tazu bu tazu , nou bu nou !
post to Sabib pillar she went crying, Baduè dil kooshà bidoh ,
“See me righted ! Against this hard and Tazu bu tazu, nou bu nou !
arrogant Baboo let my wrongs be re- Koosh biu sheen bu kilwuté
dressed, or fear the evil eye of Dookhee Chung nuwaz - a sa-uté,
the Sorrowful, of Haranu the Lost ! ” Bosu sitan bu kam uz 0,
Tazu bu tazu , nou bu nou !
But utterly in vain ; for the clamor of
the Hindoo widow, however bitterly ag- " Songster sweet, begin the lay,
grieved, is but aa nuisance, and her accu Ever sweet and ever gay !
sation insolence. So in her pitiful out Bring the joy -inspiring wine,
Ever fresh and ever fine !
casting, in all the forlorn loathsomeness of With a heart -alluring lass
leprosy, and the shunned squalor of a Gayly let the moments pass,
cripple, she sat down at the Baboo's gate , Kisses stealing while yon may,
to wait for justice till the gods should be Ever fresh and ever gay ! ”
 342 Mamoul. [ January,
Now surely she who thus sings should chorus, in costume and gesture absurd
be beautiful, after the Hindoo type ;- ly caricaturing her prima donna, ( a sort
that is, she should have the complexion of Cossitollal marchioness , indeed , for
of chocolate and cream ; “ her face should some Dick Swiveller of the Sahibs,) shuf
be as the full moon , her nose smooth as fles rheumatically with her fect, or im
a tlute ; she should have eyes like unto potently dislocates her slender arms, or
le!oses, and a neck like a pigeon's; her pounds insanely on a cracked tointom,
voice should be soft as the cuckoo's, and or jangles her clumsy cymbals, while
her step as the gait of a young elephant the squatting bearers cry , “ W'ah wah ! ”
of pure blood . ” Let us sec. and clap their sweaty bands,—our poor
Alas, no ! She entertains a set of old glee-maiden of Cossitollah strums her
lazy bearers, smoking the hubble -bubble two -stringed guitar, letting the baby slide,
around a palanquin as they wait for a and creaks corkscrewishly her Chota, cho
farc ; and her buksheesh may be a cow- ta natchelee :
ry or two. By no means is she of the Badi subà choo brog zuree ,
nautch -maidens of Lucknow, who were Bur suri kowe an puree ,
wont to lighten the hours of debauched Qussué Hafiz ush bigò,
majesty between the tiger-fights and the Tazu bu tuzu , nou bu nou !
games of leap-frog ; by no means is she “ Zephyrs, while you gently move
ringed as to her fingers or belled as to By the mansion of my love,
her toes ; and though she carries her Softly Hafiz ' strains repeat,
music wherever she goes, she also car Ever new and ever sweet ! "
rics a shiny brown baby, slung in a can Ileaven sare the key !
vas tray between her shoulders.
No excessively voluminous folds of " Ka munkta, Bearer?- Vhat is it,
gold-embroidered drapery encumber her my gentle Karlee ? ”
supple limbs; but her skirts are of the “ Chittee, Sahib !-- chittee for Master.”
scanticst, (what Miss Flora VacFlimsey “ Note, hey ? from whom ? let us see ! ”
would call skimped ,) and pitifully mean Pink paper, -- scented with sandal -wood,
as to quality. By no means have the pah ! - embossed
cor
, too, with cornucopias
in the ners, - seal motto, Qui hi ?
imperial looms of Benares contributed to
her professional costume a veil of won (" Who waits ? ") - denoting that the
drous fineness and a Nabob's price ; but bearer is to bring an answer. Now for
a narrow red strip of some poor cotton the inside :
stuff crosses her bosomn like a scarf, and " DEVOTED AXD RESPECTFUL SIR : -

leaves exposed too much of the ruins of “ Insured of your pitiful conduct, your
once daintier beauties. A string of glass obsequious suppliant, an eleemosynary
beads, black and red alternate, are all lady of decrepit widowhooil, throws her
her jewels, -- save one silver bodkin, all self at your Escellency’s merey feet with
forlorn , in her hair, and a ring of thin two imbecile childrens of various denom
gold wire piercing the right nostril, and, inations. For our Heavenly Father's
with an effect completely deforming, en- sake, if not inconvenient,—which we have
circling the lips. Her teeth and nails been beneficently bereaved of other pa
are deeply stained, and the darkness of ternal description ,—we humbly present
her eyes is enhanced by artificial shad- our implorations to your munificent Ex
OWS .
cellency, if any small change, to bestow
And so, while that baby - Tantalus, the same, which it will be cternally ac
catching glimpses, over the unveiled ceptable to said eleëmosynary widow of
shouler, of the Micawberian fount he late Colonel with distinguished medal in
Ilonorable Service, deceased of cholera,
cannot reach , stretches his little brown
arms, bites, kicks, and squalls,—while which it was sudden'attacks, and as pret
a small female apprentice, by way of ty near destitute. Therefore, hoping
1858. ] Books. 343

your munificent and respectable Excel- “ Han , Sahib ! too much quentence
lency will not order, being scornful, your have got that chee-chee woman ; that
pitiful Excellency's durwan to disperse chec-chee woman all samc dam iscamp ;
us ; but five rupees, which nothing to paunch butcha not have got,-onc butcha
Excellency's regards, and our tenacious not have got. Master not give buk
gratitude never forget; but kissing Ex- sheesh ; no good that woman , Karlee
cellency's hands on indifferent occasions, think . "
66
and throwing at mercy foct with two im- “Very well, old man ; send her away ;
becile offsprings of different denomina- tell the durwan to disperse Mrs. Diana
tions, I shall cver pray, & c . Thcodosia Comfort Green ; but let him
" Vrs. Diasa , TarodosIA, COMFORT, GREEN. not insult her decrepit widowhood, nor
“P. S. If not five rupees, two rupecs alarm her imbecile offsprings of various
denominations. For the Eurasian ' is
five annas, in name of Excellency's ex a great institution, without which polkas
alted mother, if quite convenient.” at Coolee Bazaar were not, nor pic-nics
There now ! for an imposing structure dansantes at Chandernagore .”
in the florid style of half-caste begging
letters, Mrs. Diana Thcodosia Comfort But now to tiffin . I smell a smell of
Green flatters herself that is hard to beat. curried prawns, and the first mangoes of
666 Qui hi ? ' - Karlee, who is at the the season arc fragrant. Bussoo, the
gate ? " khansaman , has cooleal the isherry -shrob,
“ Mem Sahib ! onc chee -chee woman as he calls the “green seal,” and the
wanch look sce Master, ispeakec Master kitmullgars are crying, “ Tiffin, Sahib !”
buksheeslı give ; paunch butcha have got.” The Mamoul of meal-time knows no
* Paunch bulcha ! -five children ! why, caste or country.
Karlee, there are but two here. But
Burzi hyal ky kooree !
remembering, II suppose, that my Excel Gur nu mouluun, mi kooree !
.
leney has but two “ merey fect,' and with Badu bi koor bu yadi o,
an eye to symmetry in the arrangement Tuzu bu tizu, nou bu nou !
of the grand tableau of which she pro
“ Gentle boy, whose silver feet
poses to make me the central figure, she Vimbly more to cadence sweet,
has ma:le it two • imbecile olisprings ' for Fill us quick the generous wine,
the looks of the thing. Do you know her, Ever fresh and ever fine ! ”
Karlee ? "

BOOKS.

It is easy to accuse books, and bad certainly knowing that his passengers are
ones are easily found , and the best are the same, and in no respect better than
but records, and not the things record- when he took them on board.” So is it
cd ; and certainly there is dilettanteismwith books, for the most part ; they work
enough, and books that are merely neu- no redemption in us. The bookseller
tral and do nothing for us. In Plato's might certainly know that his customers
“ Gorgias,” Socrates says, “ The ship- are in no respect better for the purchase
master walks in a modest garb near the and consumption of his wares. The vol
sca , after bringing his passengers from umc is dear at a dollar, and, after read
Ægina or from Pontus, not thinking being to weariness the lettered backs, we
has done anything extraordinary, and leave the shop with a sigh, and learn, as
344 Books. [ January,
I did, without surprise, of a surly bank- you are not entitled to give any opinion
director, that in bank parlors they esti- on the subject. Whenever any skeptic or
mate all stocks of this kind as rubbish. bigot claims to be heard on the questions
But it is not less true that there are of intellect and morals, we ask if he is
books which are of that importance in a familiar with the books of Plato, where
man's private experience, as to verify for all his pert objections have once for all
him the fables of Cornelius Agrippa, of been disposed of. If not, he has no right
Michael Scott, or of the old Orpheus of to our time. Let him go and find bim
Thrace ; books which take rank in our self answered there.
life with parents and lovers and passion- Meantime, the colleges, whilst they
ate experiences, so medicinal, so strin- provide us with libraries, furnish no pro
gent, so revolutionary, so authoritative ; fessor of books ; and, I think, no chair
books which are the work and the proof is so much wanted. In a library we
of faculties so comprehensive, so nearly are surrounded by many hundreds of
equal to the world which they paint, dear friends, but they are imprisoned
that, though one shuts them with meaner by an enchanter in these paper and
ones, he feels his exclusion from them to leathern boxes ; and though they know
accuse his way of living. us, and have been waiting two, ten ,
Consider what you have in the small- or twenty centuries for us,- some of
est chosen library. A company of the them, - and are eager to give us a
.

wisest and wittiest men that could be sign, and unbosom themselves, it is the
picked out of all civil countries, in a law of their limbo that they must not
thousand years, have set in best order speak until spoken to ; and as the en
the results of their learning and wisdom . chanter has dressed them like battalions
The men themselves were hid and inac- of infantry in coat and jacket of one cut,
cessible, solitary, impatient of interrup by the thousand and ten thousand, your
tion , fenced by etiquette; but the thought chance of hitting on the right one is to
which they did not uncover to their bos- be computed by the arithmetical rule of
om friend is here written out in trans- Permutation and Combination ,-not a
parent words to us, the strangers of choice out of three caskets, but out of
another age . half aa million caskets, all alike. But it
We owe to books those general bene- happens in our experience, that in this
fits which come from high intellectual lottery there are at least fifty or a hun
action . Thus, I think, we often owe dred blanks to a prize. It seems, then,
to them the perception of immortality. as if some charitable soul, after losing a
They impart sympathetic activity to the great deal of time among the false books,
moral power. Go with mean people, and alighting upon a few truc ones which
and you think life is mean . Then read made him happy and wise, would do a
Plutarch, and the world is a proud place, right act in naming those which have
peopled with men of positive quality, with been bridges or ships to carry him safely
heroes and demigods standing around us over dark morasses and barren oceans,
who will not let us sleep. Then , they into the heart of sacred cities, into pala
address the imagination ; only poetry in- ces and temples. This would be best
spires poetry. They become the organic done by those great masters of books
culture of the time. College education who from time to time appear, — the
is the reading of certain books which Fabricii, the Seldens, Magliabecchis,
the common sense of all scholars agrees Scaligers, Mirandolas, Bayles, Johnsons,
will represent the science already accu- whose eyes sweep the whole horizon of
mulated. If you know that, — for in- learning. But private readers, reading
stance, in geometry, if you have read purely for love of the book, would serve
Euclid and Laplace ,-your opinion has us by leaving each the shortest note of
some value ; if you do not know these, what he found .
1858.] Books. 345

There are books, and it is practicable this pilot of his own genius, let the stu
to read them , because they are so few . dent read one, or let him read many, he
We look over with a sigh the monumen- will read advantageously. Dr. Johnson
tal libraries of Paris, of the Vatican, and said , “ Whilst you stand deliberating
the British Museum . In the linperial which book your son shall read first,
Library at Paris, it is commonly said , anotherboy has read both : read anything
there are six hundred thousand volumes, five hours a day, and you will soon be
and nearly as many manuscripts; and learned.”
perhaps the number of extant printed Nature is much our friend in this mat
books may be as many as these numbers ter. Nature is always clarifying ber
united, or exceeding a million . It is easy water and her wine. No filtration can
to count the number of pages which a be so perfect. She does the same thing
diligent man can read in a day, and the by books as by her gases and plants.
number of years which human life in fa- There is always a selection in writers,
vorable circumstances allows to reading ; and then a selection from the selection.
and to demonstrate , that, though he should In the first place, all books that get fairly
read from dawn till dark, for sixty years into the vital air of the world were writ
he must die in the first alcoves. But ten by the successful class, by the affirm
nothing can be more deceptive than this ing and advancing class, who utter what
arithmetic, where none but a natural tens of thousands feel, though they can
method is really pertinent. I visit occa- not say . There has already been a scru
sionally the Cambridge Library, and I can tiny and choice from many hundreds of
seldom gothere without renewing the con- young pens, before the pamphlet or politi
viction that the best of it all is already cal chapter which you read in a fugitive
within the four walls of my study at home. journal comes to your eye. All these
The inspection of the catalogue brings me are young adventurers, who produce their
continually back to the few standard writ- performance to the wise ear of Time, who
ers who are on every private shelf ; and sits and weighs, and ten years hence
to these it can afford only the most slight out of a million of pages reprints one.
and casual additions. The crowds and Again it is judged , it is winnowed by all
centuries of books are only commentary the winds of opinion, and what terrific
and elucidation , echoes and weakeners of selection has not passed on it, before it
these few great voices of Time. can be reprinted after twenty years,
The best rule of reading will be a and reprinted after a century Sit is as if
method from nature, and not a mechani- Minos and Rhadamanthus had indorsed
cal one of hours and pages. It holds the writing. 'Tis therefore an economy of
each student to a pursuit of his native time to read old and famed books. Noth
aim , instead of a desultory miscellany. ing can be preserved which is not good ;
Let him read what is proper to him, and and I know beforehand that Pindar,
not waste his memory on a crowd of me-
a
Martial, Terence, Galen , Kepler, Galileo,
diocrities. As whole nations have derived Bacon, Erasmus, More, will be superior
their culture from a single book ,—as the to the average intellect. In contempora
Bible has been the literature as well as ries, it is not so easy to distinguish be
the religion of large portions of Europe, - twixt notoriety and fame.
as Hafiz was the eminent genius of the Be sure , then, to read no mean books.
Persians, Confucius of the Chinese, Cer- Shun the spawn of the press on the gos
vantes of the Spaniards ; so, perhaps, the sip of the hour. Do not read what you
human mind would be a gainer, if all the shall learn without asking, in the street
secondary writers were lost, — say, in
-
and the train . Dr. Johnson said, “ he
England, all but Shakspeare, Milton, and always went into stately shops ” ; and
Bacon, through the profounder study so good travellers stop at the best hotels ;
drawn to those wonderful minds. With for, though they cost more, they do not
346 Books. [ January,
cost much more , and there is the good when it is found that what is most memo
company and the best information. In rable of history is a few anecdotes, and
like manner , the scholar knows that the that we need not be alarmed, though we
famed books contain , first and last, the should find it not dull, it is regaining
best thoughts and facts. Now and then, credit . - 3. Æschylus, the grandest of the
by rarest luck, in some foolish Grub three tragedians, who has given us under
Street is the gein we want. But in the a thin veil the first plantation of Europe.
best circles is the best information . If The “ Prometheus " is a poem of the like
you should transfer the amount of your dignity and scope as the book of Job, or
reading day by day in the newspaper to the Norse “ Edda ." -- 4. Of Plato I hesi
the standand authors, but who dare tate to speak, lest there should be no end .
speak of such a thing ? You find in him that which you have
The three practical rules, then, which already found in Homer, now ripened to
I have to offer, arc, 1. Never read any thought,—the poet converted to a philos
book that is not a year old. 2. Never opher, with loftier strains of musical wis
read any but famed books. 3. Never dom than Ilomer reached , as if Hoiner
read any but what you like; or, in Slak- were the youth , and Plato the finished
speare's phrase, man ; yet with no less security of bold
“ No profit goes where is no pleasure ta’en ; and perfect song, when he cares to use
In briet, Sir, study what you most affect." it, and with some harpstrings fetched
Montaigne says, “ Books are a languid from a higher beaven. He contains the
pleasure ” ; but I find certain books vital future, as he came out of the past. In
and spammatic, not leaving the reader Plato, you explore modern Europe in its
what he was ; he shuis the book a richer causes and seed,-all that in thought,
illall . I would never willingly read any which the listory of Europe embodies or
others than such. And I will venture, at has yet to embody. The well -informed
ihe risk of inditing a list of old primers man finds himself anticipated . Plato is up
and grammars, to count the few books with him , too . Nothing has escaped him .
which a superficial reader must thank- Every new crop in the fertile harvest of
fully use. reform, every fresh suggestion of molern
Of the old Greck books, I think there humanity is there. If the student wishi
arc five which we cannot spare :-1 . Ilo- to see both sides, and justice done to the
mer, who, in spite of Pope, and all the man of the world , pitiless exposure of
learned uproar of centuries, has really pedants, and the supremacy of truth and
the truc fire, and is good for simple the religious sentiment, he shall be con
minds, is the true and adequate gerin of tented also. Why should not young
Greece, and occupies that place as his- men be educated on this book ? It would
tory, which nothing can supply. It holds suffice for the tuition of the race ,-to test
through all literature , that our best his- their understanding, and to express their
tory is still poetry. It is so in IIebrew, reason . Here is that which is so attrac
in Sanscrit, and in Greek. English bis- tive to all men , - the literature of aristoc
tory is best known through Shakspeare ; racy shall I call it ?--the picture of the
how niuch through Merlin, Robin Hood, best persons, sentiments, and manners,
and the Scottish ballalls ! the German, by the first master, in the best times ,
through the Nibelungen Liell ; the Span- portraits of- Pericles, Alcibiadles, Crito,
ish, through the Cid. Of Homer, George Prodicus, Protagoras, Anaxagoras, and
Chapman's is the heroic translation, Socrates, with the lovely background of
though the most literal prose version is the Athenian and suburban landscape.
the best of all. — 2. IIerodotus, whose Or who can overestimate the images with
history contains inestimable anecdotes, which he has enriched the minds of men ,
which brought it with the learned into and which pass like bullion in the currency
a sort of disestcem ; but in these days, of all nations ? Read the “ Phado,” the
 1858.] Books. 347
9

" Protagoras,” the “ Phædrus,” the “ Ti- la-:ly , containing that ironical culogy of
mæus,” the “ Republic ,” and the “ Apol- Socrates which is the source from whic
ogy of Socrates.” — 5. Plutarch cannot be all the portraits of that head current in
spurred from the smallest library ;: first, Europe have been drawn.
because he is so readable, which is much ; Of coillse , a certain outline should
then, that he is medicinal and invigorat- be obtained of Greek history, in which
ing. The Lives of Cimon, Lycurrus, tlic important moments and persons can
Alexander, Demosthenes, Phocion, Mar- be right!: set (lown ; but the shortest is
cellus, and the rest, are what history the best, and , if one lacks stomach for
has of best. But this book has taken Jir. Grotc's voluminous annals, the oll
care of itself, and the opinion of the slight and popular summary of Gold
world is expressed in the innumerable smith or Gillies will serve . The valua
chcap editions, which make it as acces- ble part is the age of Pericles, and the
sible as a newspaper. But Plutarch's next generation. And here we must
“ Morals ” is less known, and seldom read the - Clouds ” of Aristophanes, .nl
reprinted. Yet such a reader as I am what more of that master we gain appe
writing to can as ill spare it as the tite for, to learn our way in the streets
“ Lives." He will read in it the essays of Athens, and to know the tyramy of
" On the Daemon of Socrates," “ On
16
Aristophanes, requiring more genius and
Isis and Osiris,” “ On Progress in Vir- sometimes not less cruelty than belongeil
tuc,” “ On Garrulity ,” “ On Love," and to the oficial commanders. Aristophanes
thank anew the art of printing, and the is now very accessible, with much valu
cheerful domain of ancient thinking able commentary, through the labors of
Plutarch charms by the facility of his Mitchell and Cartwright. An excellent
associations ; so that it significs little popular book is J. A. St. John's “ An
where you open his book, you find your- cicat ( reece " ; the “ Life and Letters "
self at the Olympian tables. His mem- 01 Nicbuhr, even more than his Lec
ory is like the Isthmian Games, where tures, furnish leading views; and Winck
ail that was excellent in Grecce was as- elmann, a Greek born out of due time ,
sembled , and you are stimulated and has become essential to an intimate
recruited by lyric verses, by philosophic knowledge of the Atti genius. The
sentiments, by the forms and behavior of secret of the recent histories in German
heroes, by the worship of the gouls, and and in English is the discovery, owed
by the passing of fillets, parsley and first to Wolff, and later to Boeckh, that
laurel wreaths, chariots, armor, sacred the sincere Greek history of that periol
cnps, and utensils of sacrifice. An in- must be drawn from Demosthenes, speci
estimable trilogy of ancient social pic- ally from the business orations, and fiom
tures are the three “ Banquets ” respec the comic poets.
tively of Plato , Xenophon, and Plutarch . If we come down a little by natura !
Plutarch's has the least claim to historical steps from the master to the disciples, w :
accuracy ; but the meeting of the Seven have, six or seven centuries later, the Pla
Wise Masters is a charming portraiture tonists ,—who also cannot be skipped,
of ancient manners and discourse, and is Plotinus, Porphyry, Proclus, Synesius.
as cleur as the voice of a fifi', and enter- Jamblichanis, Of Jamblichus the Em.
taining as a French novel . Xenophon's peror Juliin saiıl, “ that he was posterior
delineation of Athenian manners is an to Plato in time, not in genius.” Oi
accessory to Plato , and supplies traits of Plotinus, we have culogies by Porphyma
Socrates ; whilst Plato's has merits of and Longinus, and the favor of the Em
every kind, being a repertory of the peror Gallienus ,-indicating the resperi
wiscloin of the anci ents on the subj ect of he inspired among his contemporaries.
love,-a picture of a feast of wits, not If any one who had read with interest
less descriptive than Aristophanes, —and, the “ Isis and Osiris ” of Plutarch should
 348 Books. [ January,
then read a chapter called “ Providence,” the sea which receives tributaries from
by Synesius, translated into English by every region under heaven. I should as
Thomas Taylor, he will find it one of the soon think of swimming across Charles
majestic remains of literature, and , like River, when I wish to go to Boston , as
one walking in the noblest of temples, of reading all my books in originals,
will conceive new gratitude to his fellow- when I have them rendered for me in
men, and a new estimate of their nobility. my mother tongue.
The imaginative scholar will find few For history, there is great choice of
stiinulants to his brain like these writers. ways to bring the student through carly
He has entered the Elysian Fields; and Rome. If he can read Livy, he has a
the grand and pleasing figures of gods good book ; but one of the short Eng
and dæmons and dæmoniacal men, of the lish compends, some Goldsmith or Fer
" azonic ” and the “ aquatic gods,” dæ- guson, should be used, that will place in
mons with fulgid eyes, and all the rest the cycle the bright stars of Plutarch.
of the Platonic rhetoric, exalted a little The poet Horace is the cye of the Au
under the African sun, sail before his gustan age ; Tacitus, the wisest of his
eyes. The acolyte bas mounted the torians; and Martial will give him Ro
tripod over the cave at Delphi ; his heart man manners, and some very bad ones,
dances, bis sight is quickened. These in the early days of the Empire : but
guides speak of the gods with such depth Martial must be read, if read at all, in
and with such pictorial details, as if they his own tonguc. These will bring him
had been bodily present at the Olym- to Gibbon, who will take him in charge,
pian feasts. The reader of these books and convey him with abundant enter
makes new acquaintance with his own tainment down — with notice of all re
mind ; new regions of thought are open markable objects on the way — through
ed. Jamblichus's “Life of Pythagoras " fourteen hundred years of time. He
works more directly on the will than the cannot spare Gibbon, with his vast read
others ; since Pythagoras was eminently ing, with such wit and continuity of
a practical person, the founder of a mind, that, though never profound, his
school of ascetics and socialists, a planter book is one of the conveniences of civili
of colonies, and nowise a man of abstract zation, like the proposed railroad from
studies alone. New York to the Pacific,-and, I think,
The respectable and sometimes excel- will be sure to send the reader to his
lent translations of Bohn's Library have “ Memoirs of Ilimself,” and the “ Ex
done for literature what railroads have tracts from my Journal ,” and “ Abstracts
done for internal intercourse. I do not of my Readings,” which will spur the
hesitate to read all the books I have laziest scholar to emulation of his pro
named, and all good books, in transla- digious performance.
tions. What is really best in any book Now having our idler safe down as far
as the fall of Constantinople in 1453,
is translatable, -any real insight or broad
human sentiment. Nay, I observe, that, he is in very good courses ; for here are
in our Bible, and other books of lofty trusty hands waiting for him. The car
moral tone, it seems easy and inevitable dinal facts of European history are soon
to render the rhythm and music of the learned . There is Dante's poem , to open
original into phrases of equal melody. the Italian Republics of the Middle Age;
The Italians have a fling at translators, Dante's “ Vita Nuova,” to explain Dante
i traditori traduttori, but I thank them . and Beatrice ; and Boccaccio's “Life of
I rarely read any Latin, Greek, German, Dante," – a great man to describe a
Italian , sometimes not a French book greater. To help us, perhaps a volume
in the original, which I can procure in a
or two of M. Sismondi's “ Italian Repub
good version . I like to be beholden to lics ” will be as good as the entire six
the great metropolitan English speech, teen . When we come to Michel An
1858.] Books. 349

gelo, his Sonnets and Letters must be are a sort of hoop to bind all these fine
read , with his Life by Vasari, or, in our persons together, and to the land to
day, by Mr. Duppa. For the Church, which they belong. He has written
and the Feudal Institution , Mr. Hallam's verses to or on all his notable contem
“ Middle Ages ” will furnish, if super- poraries; and what with so many occa
ficial, yet readable and conceivable out- sional poems, and the portrait sketches
lines. in his “ Discoveries," and the gossiping
The “ Life of the Emperor Charles record of his opinions in his conversa
V.,” by the useful Robertson, is still the tions with Drummond of Hawthornden,
key of the following age. Ximenes, Co- has really illustrated the England of his
lumbus, Loyola, Luther, Erasmus, Me- time, if not to the same extent, yet much
lancthon, Francis I., Henry VIII., Eliza- in the same way, as Walter Scott has cel
beth, and Henry IV. of France, are his ebrated the persons and places of Scot
contemporaries. It is a time of seeds land. Walton , Chapman, Herrick , and
and expansions, whereof our recent civil- Sir Henry Wotton write also to the times.
ization is the fruit. Among the best books are certain Au
If now the relations of England to tobiographies: as, St. Augustine's Con
European affairs bring him to British fessions; Benvenuto Cellini's Life ; Mon
ground, he is arrived at the very mo taigne's Essays; Lord Herbert of Cher
ment when modern history takes new bury's Memoirs ; Memoirs of the Cardinal
proportions. He can look back for the de Retz ; Rousseau's Confessions; Lin
legends and mythology to the “Young- næus's Diary ; Gibbon's, Hume's, Frank
er Edda ” and the “ Heimskringla ” of lin's, Burns's, Alfieri's, Goethe's, and
Snorro Sturleson, to Mallet's “ Northern Haydon's Autobiographies.
Antiquities,” to Ellis's “ Metrical Ro- Another class of books closely allied
mances,” to Asser's “ Life of Alfred ,” and to these, and of like interest, are those
Vencrable Bede, and to the researches which may be called Table- Talks ; of
of Sharon Turner and Palgrave. Hume which the best are Saadi's Gulistaa ;
will serve him for an intelligent guide, Luther's Table - Talk ; Aubrey's Lives;
and in the Elizabethan era he is at the Spence's Anecdotes ; Selden's Table
richest period of the English mind, with Talk ; Boswell's Life of Johnson ; Eck
the chief men of action and of thought ermann's Conversations with Goethe ;
which that nation has produced, and with Coleridge's Table - Talk ; and Hazlitt's
a pregnant future before him . Here Life of Northcote.
he has Shakspeare, Spenser, Sidney, There is a class whose value I should
Raleigh, Bacon, Chapman, Jonson, Ford, designate as faroriles ; such as Frois
Beaumont and Fletcher, Herbert, Donne, sart's Chronicles ; Southey's Chronicle of
Herrick ; and Milton, Marvell, and Dry- the Cid ; Cervantes; Sully's Memoirs;
den , not long after. Rabelais ; Montaigne ; Izaak Walton ;
In reading history, he is to prefer the Evelyn ; Sir Thomas Browne; Aubrey ;
history of individuals. He will not re- Sterne; Ilorace Walpole ; Lord Claren
pent the time he gives to Bacon ,—not don ; Doctor Johnson ; Burke, shedding
if he read the “ Advancement of Learn- floods of light on his times; Lamb ; Lan
ing,” the “ Essays,” the Novum Or. dor ; and De Quincey ;-a list, of course,
9
ganon ,” the “ History of Henry VII., " that may casily be swelled, as dependent
and then all the “ Letters, ” (especially on individual caprice. Many men are as
those to the Earl of Devonshire, explain- tender and irritable as lovers in reference
ing the. Essex business,) and all but his to these predilections. Indeed, aa man's
“ Apophthegms." library is a sort of harem , and I observe
The task is aided by the strong mutual that tender readers have a great pudency
light which these men shed on each in showing their books to a stranger.
other. Thus, the Works of Ben Jonson The annals of bibliography afford many
350 Books. [ January,
exainples of the delirious extent to which Another class I distinguish by the term
book -fancying can go, when the legiti- Vocabularies. Burton's " Anatomy of
mate delight in a book is transferred to Melancholy ” is a book of great learning.
a rare edition or to a manuscript. This To read it is like reading in a diction
mania reached its height about the be- ary. ' Tis an inventory to remind us
ginning of the present century. For an how many classes and species of facts
autograph of Shakspeare one hundred exist, and, in observing into what strange
and fifty -five guineas were given. In and multiplex by-ways learning has
Mar, 1812, the library of the Duke of strayed, to infer our opulence. Neither
Roxburgh was sold . The sale lasted is a dictionary a bad book to read .
forty-two days,-we abridye the story
ve There is no cant in it, no excess of ex
from Dibdin ,—and among the many planation, and it is full of suggestion ,
( uriosities was a copy of Boccaccio pub- the raw material of possible pocms and
lished by Valdarfer, at Venice, in 1471 ; histories. Nothing is wanting but a little
the only perfect copy of this edition. shuffling, sorting, ligature, and cartilage.
Among the distinguished company which Out of a hundred examples, Cornelius
attended the sale were the Duke of Agrippa “ On the Vanity of Arts and Sci
Devonshire, Earl Spencer, and the Duke ences” is a specimen of that scribatious
of Marlborough, then Marquis of Bland- ness which grew to be the habit of the
ford . The bid stood at five hundred gluttonous readers of his time. Like the
guineas. “ A thousand guineas,” said mo:lern Germans, they read a literature,
Earl Spencer : “ And ten, ” added the whilst other mortals read a few books.
Marquis. You might hcar a pin drop. They read voraciously , and must disbur
All eyes were bent on the bidders. Now den themselves; so they take any gen
they talked apart, now ate aa biscuit, now cral topic, as, Melancholy, or Praise of
made a bet, but without the least thought Science, or Praise of Folly, and write
of vielding one to the other. “ Two and quote without method or end . Now
thousand pounds," said the Marquis. and then out of that affluence of their
The Earl Spencer bethought him like learning comes a fine sentence from
a prudent general of useless blooilshed Theoplırastus, or Seneca, or Boëthius,
and waste of powder, and had paused a but no high method , no inspiring efflux.
quarter of a minute, when Lord Althorp But one cannot afford to read for a few
with long steps came to his side, as iſ to sentences; they are good only as strings
bring his father a fresh lance to renew of suggestive words.
the fight. Father and son whispered There is another class more needful to
together, and Earl Spencer exclaimed , the present age, because the currents of
- Two thousand two hundred and fifty custom run now in another direction ,
poumis !” An electric shock went and leave us dry on this side ;-I mean
66
through the assembly. “ And ten ," quiet- the Imaginative. A right metaphysics
ly added the Marquis. There ended the should do justice to the coörlinate pow
strite. Ere Evans let the hammer fall, ers of Imagination, Insight, Understand
he pauscd ; the ivory instrument swept ing, and Will. Poetry, with its aiils of
the air ; the spectators stood mb, when Mythology and Romance, must be well
the hammer fell. The stroke of its fall allowed for an imaginative crcature.
sounded on the farthest shores of Italy. Men are ever lapsing into a beggarly
The tap of that hammer was heard in habit, wherein everything that is not ci
the libraries of Rome, Milan, and Ven- phering, that is, which does not serve the
ire. Boccaccio stirred in his sleep of five tyrannical animal, is hustled out of sight.
hundred years, and M. Van Praet groped Our orators and writers are of the same
ja vain amidst the royal alcoves in Paris, poverty, and, in this rag-fair, neither the
to detect a copy of the famed Valdarfer Imagination, the great awakening power,
Boccaccio . nor the Morals, creative of genius and of
1858.] Books. 351

men , are addressed . But though orator America and Europe, but after the laws
and poet are of this hunger party, the of right reason, and with as daring a
capacities remain. We must have sym- freedom as we usc in dreams, put us
bols. The child asks you for a story, on our feet again, enable us to form
and is thankful for the poorest. It is an original judgment of our duties, and
not poor to him , but radiant with mean- suggest new thoughts for to -morrow .
ing. The man asks for a novel,—that is, ** Lucrezia Floriani,” “ Le Péché de
asks leave, for a few hours, to be a poet, M. Antoine,” “ Jeannc,” of George Sand,
and to paint things as they ought to be. are great steps from the novel of one ter
The youth asks for a poem . The very mination, which we all read twenty years
dunces wish to go to the theatre. What ago. Yet how far off from life and man
private heavens can we not open, by ners and motives the novel still is ! Life
yielding to all the suggestion of rich mu- lies about us dumb ; the day, as we know
sic ! We must have idolatries, mytholo- it, has not yet found a tongue. These
gies, some swing and verge for the cre- stories are to the plots of real life what
ative power lying coiled and cramped the figures in “ La Belle Assemblée,”
here, driving ardent natures to insanity which represent the fashion of the month,
and crime, if it do not find vent. With- are to portraits. But the novel will find
out the great and beautiful arts which the way to our interiors onc day, and
speak to the sense of beauty, a man will not always be the novel of costume
secms to me a poor, naked, shivering merely. I do not think them inoperative
creature . These are his becoming dra now. So much novel-reading cannot
peries, which warm and adorn him . leave the young men and maidens un
Whilst the prudential and economical touched ; and doubtless it gives some
tone of society starves the imagination, ideal clignity to the day. The young
affronted Nature gets such indemnity as study noble behavior; and as the player
she may. The novel is that allowance in “ Consuelo " insists that he and his col
and frolic the imagination finds. Every- leagues on the boards have taught princes
thing else pins it down, and men flee for the finc etiquette and strokes of grace
redress to Byron , Scott, Disraeli, Dumas, and dignity which they practise with so
Sand, Balzac, Dickens, Thackeray, and much effect in their villas and among
Reade. Their education is neglected ; their dependents, so I often sce traces of
but the circulating library and the the- the Scotch or the French novel in the
atre, as well as the trout-fishing, the courtesy and brilliancy of young mid
Notch Mountains, the Adirondac coun- shipmen , collegians, and clerks. Indeed ,
try , the tour to Mont Blanc, to the when one observes how ill and ugly pco
White Hills, and the Ghauts, make such ple make their loves and quarrels, 'tis
amends as they can. pity they should not read novels a little
The imagination infuses a certain vol- more, to import the fine generosities, and
atility and intoxication . It has a flute the clear, firm conduct, which are as
which sets the atoms of our frame in a becoming in the unions and separations
dance, like planets, and, once so liber- which love effects under shingle roofs as
ated, the whole man reeling drunk to in palaces and among illustrious person
the music, they never quite subsidle to ages.
their old stony state. But what is the In novels the most serious questions
Imagination ? Only an arm or weapon are really beginning to be discussed .
of the interior energy ; only the precursor What made the popularity of “ Jane
of the Rcason . And books that treat the Eyre,” but that a central question was
old pedantries of the world , our times, answered in some sort ? The question
places, professions, customs, opinions, his- there answered in regard to a vicious
tories, with a certain freedom , and dis- marriage will always be treated accord
tribute things, not after the usages of ing to the habit of the party. A person
 352 Books.
[ January,
of commanding individualism will answer which shall show us, in morning and
it as Rochester does ,—as Cleopatra, as night, in stars and mountains, and in all
Milton, as George Sand do,---magnifying the plight and circumstance of men, the
the exception into a rule, dwarfing the analogons of our own thoughts, and a like
world into an exception. A person of impression made by a just book and by
less courage, that is, of less constitution, the face of Nature.
will answer as the heroine docs,-giving If our times are sterile in genius, we
way to fate, to conventionalisin, to the must cheer us with books of rich and
actual state and doings of men and wo- believing men who had atmosphere and
men. amplitude about them. Every good fable,
For the most part, our novel-reading is every mythology, every biography out of
a passion for results. We admirc parks, a religious age, every passage of love, and
and high -born beauties, and the homage even philosophy and science, when they
of drawing-rooms, and parliaments. They proceed from an intellectual integrity,
make us skeptical, by giving prominence and are not detached and critical, have
to wealth and social position . the imaginative element. The Greek
I remember when some peering eyes of fables, the Persian history, ( Firdousi,) the
boys discovered that the oranges hanging · Younger Edda ” of the Scandinavians,
on the boughs of an orange-trec in a gay the “ Chronicle of the Cid ,” the poem of
piazza were tied to the twigs by thread . I Dante, the Sonnets of Michel Angelo,
fear 'tis so with the novelist's prosperities. the English drama of Shakspeare, Beau
Nature has aa magic by which she fits the mont and Fletcher, and Ford, and even
man to his fortunes, by making them the the prose of Bacon and Milton,-in our
fruit of his character. But the novelist time, the ode of Wordsworth , and the
plucks this event here, and that fortune poems and the prose of Goethe, have this
there, and ties them rashly to his figures, richness, and leave room for hope and
to tickle the fancy of his readers with a for generous attempts.
cloying success, or scare them with shocks There is no room left, — and yet I
of tragedy. And so, on the whole, ' tis might as well not have begin as to leave
a juggle. We are cheated into laughter out a class of books which are the best : I
or wonder by feats which only oddly mean the Bibles of the world, or the sa
combine acts that we do every day. cred books of each nation, which express
There is no new element, no power, no for each the supreme result of their ex
furtherance. ' Tis only confectionery, not perience. After the Hebrew and Greek
the raising of new corn. Great is the Scriptures, which constitute the sacred
poverty of their inventions . She was books of Christendom , these are , the
beautiful, and he fell in love. Money, Desatir of the Persians, and the Zoroas
and killing, and the Wandering Jew, trian Oracles; the Vedas and Laws of
and persuading the lover that his mistress Menu; the Upanishads, the Vishnu Pu
is betrothed to another , —these are the rana, the Bhagvat Geeta, of the Hindoos ;
mainsprings; new names, but no new the books of the Buddhists ; the “ Chi
qualities in the men and women . llence nese Classic," of four books, containing
the vain endeavor to keep any bit of this the wisdom of Confucius and Mencius.
fairy gold, which has rolled like a brook Also such other books as have acquired
through our hands. A thousand thoughts a semi-canonical authority in the world ,
awoke; great rainbows seemed to span as expressing the highest sentiment and
the sky ; a morning among the moun- hope of nations. Such are the “ Hermes
tains ;—but we close the book , and not a Trismegistus," pretending to be Egyptian
ray remains in the memory of evening. remains ; the “ Sentences ” of Epictetus;
But this passion for romance, and this of Marcus Antoninus ; the “ Vishnu Sar
disappointment, show how much we need ma " of the Hindoos ; the “ Gulistan ” of
real elerations and pure poetry ; that Saadi ; the “ Imitation of Christ,” of
1858.] Books. 353

Thomas à Kempis; and the “ Thoughts” These are a few of the books which
of Pastal. the old and the later times have yielded
All these books are the majestic ex- us, which will reward the time spent on
pressions of the universal conscience, them . In comparing the number of
and are more to our daily purpose than good books with the shortness of life,
this year's almanıc or this day's news- many Inight well be read by proxy, if we
paper. But they are for the closet, and hail good proxies; and it would be well
to be read on the bended knee. Their for sincere young men to borrow a hint
communications are not to be given or from the French Institute and the Brit
taken with the lips and the end of the ish Association, and, as they divide the
tongue, but out of the glow of the check, whole body into sections, carh of which
and with the throbbing heart. Friend- sit upon and report of certain matters
ship should give and take, solitude and confided to them , so let cach scholar asso
time brool and ripen, heroes absorb ciate himself to such persons as he can
and enact them . They are not to be rely on , in a literary club, in which cach
held by letters printed on a page, but shall undertake a single work or series
are living characters translatable into for which he is qualified. For example,
every tongue and form of life. I read how attractive is the whole literature of
them on lichens and bark ; I watch them the “ Roman de la Rosc ,” the “ Fabli
on waves on the beach ; they fly in birds, aux ," and the gai science of the French
they creep in worms ; I detect them in Troubadours ! Yet who in Boston has
laughter and blushes and eye-sparkles time for that ? But one of our company
of men and women. These are Scrip- shall undertake it, shall study and mas
tures which the missionary might well ter it, and shall report on it, as under
carry over prairic, desert, and ocean, to oath ; shall give us the sincere result, as
Siberia, Japan, Timbuetoo. Yet he will it lies in his mind, adding nothing, keep
find that the spirit which is in them jour- ing nothing back . Another member,
neys faster than he, and greets him on meantime, shall as honestly search, sift,
his arrival,—was there already long be- and as truly report on British mythology,
forc him . The missionary must be car- the Round Table, the histories of Brut,
ried by it, and find it there, or he goes in Merlin, and Welsh poetry ; a third, on
vain . Is there any geography in these the Saxon Chronicles, Robert of Glou
things ? We call them Asiatic, we call cester, and William of Malmesbury ; a
them primeval; but perhaps that is only fourth ,on Mysteries, Early Drama ,“ Ges
optical; for Nature is always equal to ta Romanorum ," Collier, and Dyce, and
herself, and there are as good pairs of the Camden Society. Each shall give
eyes and cars now in the planet as ever us his grains of gold, after the washing ;
were . Only these ejaculations of the and every other shall then decide wheth
soul are uttered one or a few at a time, er this is a book indispensable to him
at long intervals, and it takes millen- also.
niums to make a Bible.

VOL. 1 23
354 The Diamond Lens. [ January,

TIIE DIAMOND LENS.

1. magnifying properties, -in which attempt

TIIE BEXDIXG OF TIIE TWIG .
it is scarcely necessary to say that I
totally failed.
From a very early period of my life At last the promised instrument came.
the entire bent of my inclinations haul It was of that order known as Field's
been towards microscopic investigations. simple microsi'ope, and had cost perhaps
When I was not more than ten years about fifteen dollars. As far as educa
olul, a distant relative of our family, tional purposes went, a better apparatus
hoping to astonish my inexperience , could not have been selected. Accom
construited a simple microscope for me, panying it was a small treatise on the
by drilling in a disk of copper a small microscope , —its history, uses, and disrov
hole , in which a drop of pure water was cries. I comprehended then for the first
sustained by capillary attraction. This time the “ Arabian Nights' Entertain
very primitive apparatus , magnifying ments. " The dull veil of orlimary exist
some fitiv diumeters, presenteil, it is true, ence that hung across the world scomed
only inlistinet and impertert forms, but sudilenly to roll away, and to lay bare a
still suiliciently wonderful to work up my land of enchantments . I felt towards
imagination to a preternatural state of my companions as the seer might feel to
excitementi wards the orilinary masses of men . I held
Sering nie so interested in this rule conversations with Vature in a tongue
instrument, my cousin explained to me which they could not understand. I was
all that he knew about the principles of in daily communication with living won
the mi:-ros" 0p) , related to me a few of ders, such as they never imagined in their
the wonders which had been acrom- willest visions. I penetrated beyond the
plished :hongh its agency, and cel by external portal of things, and roamed
promising to senil me one regularly con- through the sanctuaries. Where they
structed , immediately on liis return to behele only a drop of rain slowly rolling
the city. I counted the days, the hous, down the window -class, I saw a universe
the minutes, that intervened between of beings animated with all the passions
that promise and his departure. common to physical lite, and convulsing
Meantime I was not idle . Every trans- their minute sphere with strnggles as
parent suistance that bore the remotest fierce and protracted as those of men .
semblan : e to a lens I cagerly seized In the common spots of mould, which my
upon and employed in vain attempts to mother, good housekeeper that she was,
realize that instrument, the theory of fiercely scooped away from her jam pots,
whose constrution I as yet only vaguely there abode for me, under the name of
comprendid. All panes of glass con- mildew , enchanted gardens, filive with
taining th:04 . oblate spheroidal knots dells and avenues of the densest foliage
familiarly known as “ bull's eyes ” were and most astonishing verdure , while from
ruthlessly destroved, in the hope of ob- the fantastic bougls of these microscopic
taining konses of marvellous power. I forests hung strange fruits glittering with
even went so far as to extract the crys- green and silver and gold .
talline luumor from the eyes of fishes and It was no scientific thirst that at this
animals, and endeavored to press it into time filled my mind. It was the pure
the microscopic service. I plead guilty enjoyment of a poet to whom a world of
to having stolen the glasses from my wonders has been disclosed. I talkeid of
Aunt Agatha's spectacles, with aa dim idea my solitary pleasures to none. Alone
of grinding them into lenses of wondrous with my microscope, I dimmed ny sight,
1858.] The Diamond Lens. 355

day after day and night after night por- But it was necessary for me to select
ing over the marvels which it unfolded some pursuit. My parents were staid
to me . I was like one who, having dis- New England people, who insisted on
covered the ancient Eden still existing in the necessity of labor ; and therefore, al
all its primitive glory, should resolve to though, thanks to the bequest of my poor
enjoy it in solitulle, and never betray to Aunt Agatha, I should , on coming of
mortal the secret of its locality. The rod are , inherit a small fortune sullicient to
of my life was bent at this moment. I place me above want, it was decided, that,
destined myself to be a microscopist. instead of waiting for this, I should act
Of course , like cvery novice, i fancied the nobler part, and employ the interven
myself a discoverer. I was ignorant ating years in rendering myself independ
the time of the thousands of acute intel ent.

lects engaged in the same pursuit as After much cogitation I complicd with
myself, and with the advantages of in- the wishes of my family, and selected a
struinents a thousand tiincs more power- profession. I determined to study medi
ful than mine. The names of Leeuwen- cine at the New York Academy. This
hoek, Williamson, Spencer, Ehrenberg, disposition of my future suited me. А
Schultz, Dujardin, Schact, and Schleiden removal from my relatives would enable
were then entirely unknown to me, or if me to dispose of my time as I pleased,
known, I was ignorant of their patient without fear of detection. As long as I
and wondertul researches. In cvery paid my Academy fees, I might shirk
fresh specimen of Cryptogamia which I attending the lectures, if I chose ; and
placed beneath my instrument I be- as I never had the remotest intention of
lieved that I discovered wonders of standing an examination, there was no
which the world was as yet ignorant. I danger of my being " plucked .” Be
remenuber well the thrill of delight and sides, a metropolis was the place for me.
admiration that shot through me the first There I could obtain excellent instru
time that I discovered the common wheel ments, the newest publications, intimacy
animalcule ( Porifera vulgaris) expand- with men of pursuits kindred to my own,
ing and contracting its flexible spokes, in short, all things necessary to insure a
and seemingly rotating through the profitable devotion of my life to my be
water. Alas ! as I grew older, and ob- Jove science. I had an abundance of
tained some works treating of my favor- money, few desires that were not bound
ite study, I found that I was only on the cd by my illuminating mirror on one
threshold of'a science to the investigation side and my object-glass on the other ;
of which some of the greatest men of what, therefore, was to prevent my be
the age were devoting their lives and coming an illustrious investigator of the
intellets. veiled worlds ? It was with the most
As I grew up , my parents, who saw buoyant hopes that I left my New Eng
but little likelihood of anything practical land home and established myself in
resulting from the examination of bits New York .
of moss and drops of water through a
brass tulie and a piece of glass, were II.

anxious that I should choose a profession.

It was their desire that I should enter TIIE LOXGING OF A MAN OF SCIENCE
the counting -house of my uncle, Ethan
Blake', a prosperous merchant, who car- My first step, of course, was to find
ried on business in New York. This suitable apartments. These I obtained ,
suggestion I decisively combated . I had after a couple of days' scarch, in Fourth
no taste for trade ; I should only make Avenue ; a very pretty second -floor un
a failure ; in short, I refused to becoine furnished, containing sitting -room , bed
a merchant room , and a smaller apartment which I
356 The Diamond Lens. [ January,
intended to fit up as a laboratory. I scientific accessories,-never having been
furnished my lodgings simply, but rather taught microscopics,—and those whose
elegantly, and then devoted all my ener- use I understood theoretically were of
gies to the adornment of the temple of little avail, until by practice I would at
my worship. I visited Pike, the cele- tain the necessary delica y of handling.
brated optician , and passed in review Still, such was the fury of my ambition ,
his splendid collection of microscopes, - such the untiring perseverance of my
Field's Compound, Higham's, Spencer's, experiments, that, difficult of credit as
Nachet's Binocular, (that founded on the it may be, in the course of one year I
principles of the stercoscope,) and at became theoretically and practically an
length fixed upon that form known as accomplished microscopist.
Spencer's Trunnion Microscope, as com- During this period of my labors, in
bining the greatesi number of improve- which I submitted specimens of every
ments with an alınost perfect freedom substance that came under my observa
from tremor. Along with this I pur- tion to the action of my lenses, I became
chased every possible accessory;-draw- a discoverer, -in a small way, it is true,
tubes, micrometers, a camera-lucida, le for I was very young, but still a discoverer.
ver-stage, achromatic condensers, white It was I who destroyed Ehrenberg's the
cloud illuminators, prisms, parabolic con- ory that the Volroz globator was an ani
66
densers, polarizing apparatus, forceps, mal, and proved that his “ monads " with
aquatic boxes, fishing -tubes, with a host stomachs and eyes were merely phases
of other articles, all of which would have of the formation of a vegetable cell, and
been useful in the hands of an experi- were, when they reached their inature
enced microscopist, but, as I afterwarıls state, incapable of the act of conjugation,
discovered , were not of the slightest or any true generative act, without which
present value to me. It takes years of no organism rising to any stage of life
practice to know how to use a compli- higher than vegetable can be said to be
cated microscope. The optician looked complete. It was I who resolved the
suspiciously at me as I made these whole- singular problein of rotation in the cells
sale purchases. He evidently was un- and hairs of plants into ciliary attraction ,
certain whether to set me down as soine in spite of the assertions of Mr. Wenham
scientific celebrity or a madman . I and others, that my explanation was the
think he inclined to the latter belief. I result of an optical illusion .
suppose I was mad . Every great genius But notwithstanding these discoveries,
is mad upon the subject in which he is laboriously and painfully made as they
greatest. The unsuccessful madman is were, I felt horribly dissatisfied. At every
disgraced, and called aa lunatic . step I found myself stopped by the imper
Mad or not, I set myself to work with fections of any instruments. Like all active
a zeal which few scientific students have microscopists, I gave my imagination full
ever equalled. I had everything to learn play. Indeed, it is a common consplaint
relative to the delicate study upon which against many such, that they supply the
I had embarked , —a study involving the defects of their instruments with the
most earnest patience, the most rigid an- creations of their brains. I imagined
alytic powers, the steadiest hand, the depths beyond depths in Nature which
most untiring eye, the most refined and the limited power of my lenses prohibited
subtile manipulation. me froin exploring. I lay awake at night
For a long time half my apparatus lay constructing imaginary microscopes of
inactively on the shelves of my labora- immeasurable power, with which I seem
tory, which was now most amply furnished ed to pierce through all the envelopes of
with every possible contrivance for facili- matter down to its original atom . IIow
tating my investigations. The fact was I cursed those imperfect mediums which
that I did not know how to use some of my necessity through ignorance compelled
1858.] The Diamond Lens. 357

me to use ! How I longed to discover something to sell, and yet went into
the secret of some perfect lens whose excellent society. When I say sell, I
magnifying power should be limited only should perhaps have said peddle ; for
by the resolvability of the object, and his operations were generally confined to
which at the same time should be free the disposal of single articles,-a picture,
from spherical and chromatic aberrations, for instance, or a rare carving in ivory,
in short from all the obstacles over which or a pair of (luelling-pistols, or the dress
the poor microscopist finds himself con- of a Mexican caballero. When I was
tinually stumbling ! I felt convinced that first furnishing my rooms, he paid me a
the simple niicrosi'ope, composed of aa sin- visit, which ended in my purchasing an
gle lens of such vast yet perfect power, antique silver lamp, which he assured me
was possible of construction . To attempt was a Cellini,-it was handsome enough
to bring the compound microscope up to even for that,—and some other knick
such a pitch would have been commenc- knacks for my sitting -room . Why Si
ing at the wrong end ; this latter being mon should pursue this petty trade I
simply a partially successful endeavor to never could imagine. He apparently
remedy those very defects of the simple bad plenty of money, and had the entrée
instrument, which, if conquered, would of the best houses in the city, —taking
leave nothing to be desired . carc, however, I suppose, to drive no bar
It was in this mood of mind that I gains within the enchanted circle of the
became a constructive microscopist. Af- Upper Ten. I came at length to the
ter another year passed in this new pur- conclusion that this peddling was but a
suit, experimenting on every imaginable mask to cover some greater object, and
substance,-glass, gems, flints, crystals, even went so far as to believe my young
artificial crystals formed of the alloy of acquaintance to be implicated in the
various vitreous materials,-in short, hav- slave-trade. That, however, was none
ing constructed as many varieties of of my affair.
lenses as Argus had eyes, I found my- On the present occasion , Simon enter
self precisely where I started, with noth- ed my room in a state of considerable
ing gained save an extensive knowl- excitement.
edge of glass-making. I was almost " Ah ! mon ami ! ” he cried, before I
dead with despair. My parents were could even offer him the ordinary salu
surpriseıl at my apparent want of pro- tation, " it has occurred to me to be the
gress in my metlical studies, (I had not witness of the most astonishing things in
atteniled one lecture since my arrival the world . I promenade myself to the
in the city .) and the expenses of my mad house of Madame How does the
pursuit had been so great as to embar- little animal - le renard — name himself
rass me very seriously. in the Latin ? "
I was in this frame of mind one day, “ Vulpes," I answered.
experimenting in my laboratory on a " Ah ! yes,-Vulpes. I promenade my
small diamond ,—that stone, from its great self to the house of Madame Vulpes.”
refracting power, having always occupied “ The spirit medium ? ”
my attention more than any other ,- “ Yes, the great medium . · Great Fleav
when a young Frenchman, who lived on ens ! what a woman ! I write on a slip
the floor above me, and who was in the of paper many of questions concern
habit of orcasionally visiting me, entered ing affairs the most secret,-- affairs that
the room . conceal themselves in the abysses of my
I think that Jules Simon was a Jew. heart the most profound ; and behold !
He had many traits of the Hebrew char- by example ! what occurs ? This devil
acter : a love of jewelry, of dress, and of a woman makes me replies the most
of good living. There was something truthful to all of them. She talks to me
mysterious about him . He always had of things that I do not love to talk of to
358 The Diamond Lens.
myself. What am I to think ? I am
fixed to the earth ! "
“ Am I to understand you , M. Simon ,
that this Mrs. Vulpes replied to questions
secretly written by you, which questions
related to events known only to your-
self ? ”
“ Ah ! more than that, more than that,"
he answered , with an air of some alarm .
“ She related to me things But, "
he aveled , after a pause. aml suhilenly
changing his manner, why occupy our-
selves with these follies ? It was all the
Biology, without doubt. It goes without
saviny chat it has not my creden : c . — But
why are we here, mon ami? It has 04-
curred to me to discover the most beanle
titul thing as you can imagine - a vase
will run lizards on it. compost by
the great Bernard Palissy. It is in my
apartment : let us mount. Im to show
it to you . "
[ .January,
the ground floor, very sparely furnished.
In the centre of the rooin , close to where
Mrs. Vulpes sat, there was a common
rounil mahogany table . If I had come
for the purpose of sweeping her chimney,
the woman could not have looked more
indiferent to my appearance . There
was no attempt to inspire the visitor
with any awe. Everything bore a sim
ple and practical aspect. This intercourse
with the spiritual world was evidently as
familiar an ocupation with Mrs. Vulpes
as cating her climer or riding in an
omnibus.
" You come for a communication , Jr.
Linley ? ” sail the medium , in a dry, busi
ness -like tone of voice.
• By appointment, - ! es."
“ What sort of communication do you
want ?-a written one ? "
· Yes, I wil lor a written one . "
" From any particular spirit ? "
64

66
I follower Simon nicchanically ; but “ Yans "
my thora !its were far from Palisy and * Have you ever known this spirit on
6

his enameled ware, although I like him , this carih ? ”

was seeking in the dark after a great “ Never. lle dicit long before I was
discovery. This casual mention of the born. I wish merely to obtain from him
spiritualist, Madame Vulpes, set me on Sollte information which die ought to be
a new track . What if this spiritualim alile to give betier thin any other."
should be really a great fart ? What it, • Will you seat yourself at the table,
through communication with subtiler or- Mr. Linler," said the medium , 6 and
gani -us than my own, I could reach at place your hands upon it ? ”
a single found the goal, which perh ::ps a I obeverl . - Mrs. Vulpes being seated
life of agonizing mental toil woull never opposite me, with her hanıls also on the
enable me to attain ? table .We remained thus for about a
While purling the Palissy vase minute and a half, when a violent suc
from my friend Simon, I was mentally cession of raps came on the table, on the
arranging a visit to Madame Vulpes.
a back of my rhair, on the floor immerli
ately under my feet, and even on the
window -panes. Mrs. Vulpes sniiled com
III. posedly.
66

TIIE SPIRIT OF LEEUWENIIOEK . • They are very strong to -night,” she

Two evenings after this, thanks to an
arrangement by Jetter and the promise
of an ample fer, I found Madame Vulpes
awaiting me at her residence alone. She
was a course - featured woman, with a
keen and rather cruel dark eye, and an
exceedingly sensual expression about her
mouth and under jaw. She received
me in perfect silence, in an apartment on
remarked . “ You are fortunate . " She
then continued , “ Will the spirits commu
nicate with this gentleman ? "
Vigorous affirmative.
“ Will the particular spirit he desires
to speak with communicate ? "
A very confused rapping followed this
question.
“ I know what they mean,” said Mrs.
Vulpes, addressing herself to me; " they
1858.] The Diamond Lens. 359

wish you to write down the name of the 1.-Can the microscope be brought to
particular spirit that you desire to con- perfection ?
verse with . Is that so ? ” she adıled, SPIRIT . — Yes.
speaking to her invisible guests. 1.-Am I destined to accomplish this
That it was so was evident from the great task ?
numerous allirmatory responses. While SPIRIT . - You are.
this was going on , I tore a slip froin my J.-I wish to know how to proceed to
poikei-book, and scribbled a name under attain this end . For the love which you
the tible . bear to science, help me !
" Will this spirit communicate in writ- Spirit.-- . diamond of one hundred
ing with this gentleman ? ” asked the and forty carats, submitted to electro
melia 0 :: e more. magnetic currents for a long perioil, will
irrangement of its atoms
Atior a moment's pause her hand experience a rearr
scemerl to be seized with a violent tre- inter ise ,and from that stone you will form
mor , s ! : king so forcibly that the table the wiversal levs.
vibratcil. She said that a spirit hail J. - Will great discoveries re: ult from
seize her hand and would write. I the use of such a lens ?
handel her some sheets of paper that Spirit. — So great, that all that has
were on the table , and a pencil. The gone before is as nothing.
latter : h « ! 1 !costly in her hand , which 1 .-- But the refractive power of the
presently baru to move over the paper diamond is so immense, that the image
with a singular and seemingly involun- will be formed within the lens. How is
tary motion . After a few moments had that difficulty to be surmounted ?
clapseil she handled me the paper, on Sririt. — Pierce the lens through its
which I tand written, in a large, un- asis, anıl the difficulty is obviated. The
cultivated 1.2.1, the worls, “ lle is not image will be formed in the pierced
here , ' it !: 23 by: en sont for." A pause of space', which will itself serve as a tube
a minute or so now ensucil, during which to look through. Now I am called.
Mrs. Vulpes remaines perfectly silent, Gool night!
but t! mas conuimucil at regular inter- I cannot at all describe the effect that
vals. When the short period I mention the - e extraordinary communications had
had el ... : !? !? ! ? of the medium mpor me . I felt completely bewildered.
was again sojmo with its convulsive tre- No biological theory could account for
mor, anel slic wrote , under this strange the olisrocery of the lens. The medium
infinense', a few worls on the paper, might, by means of biological rapport
which she hudal to me. They were as with my min : l, have gone so far as to read
follows : my questions, and reply to them coher
" I am horo. Question me. ently. Birt Biology could not enable her
LEEUWENIIOEK ." to discover that magnetic currents would
I was . a town leil. The name WS so alter the crystals of the diamon :l as to
idential wiile that I have written bennath remedy its previous depicts, an'l a imit of
the table and car:fully kept ( oneralel. its being polished into a poort lens.
N'ither was it at all probable that an in- Some such theory my have passed
enltivatoil wo::an like Sis. Vulpes should through my head, it is true ; but if so, I
kou even the name of the great father had forgoiten it. In ny excited condition
i wiros opi3. It may have been Bi- of mind there was no course led but to
or: b : this i!!!!! soon doomed be me a convert, and it was in a state of
in be fins inrel. I wrote on my slip the most painful nervous exalization that
still concedii ic from Ios. Vulpes - ase- I left the medium's house that evening.
ri: 3 of qi!: ;::., Wii... 10 avoiul telious- She acronpanieil me to the cloor, hoping
ness, I shall polizme with the responses in that I was satisfied . The raps followed
the order in which they occurred . us as we went through the hall, sound
 360 The Diamond Lens. [ January,
ing on the balusters, the flooring, and me wonderful things. Ah ! if I could
even the lintels of the door. I hastily ex- only get a diamond that weighed one
pressed my satisfaction , and escaped hur- hundred and forty carats ! ”
riedly into the cool night air. I walked Scarcely had the sigh with which I ut
home with but one thought possessing inc, tered this desire died upon my lips, when
--how to obtain aa diamond of the immense Simon , with the aspect of a wild beast,
size required. My entire means multi- glared at me savagely, and rushing to the
plied a hundred times over would have mantel-piece, where some foreign weap
been inadequate to its purchase. Be- ous hung on the wall, caught up a Malay
siules, such stones are rare , and become creesc , and brandished it furiously be
listorical. I could find such only in fore him .
: ic regalia of Eastern or European “ No ! ” he cried in French, into which
inonarchs. he always broke when excited . “ No !
you shall not have it ! You are perfidi
IV. ous ! You have consulted with that de
TIIE EYE OF MORNING .
mon, and desire my treasure ! But I will
die first ! Me ! I am brave ! You can
There was a light in Simon's room as not make me fear ! ”
I entered my house. A vague impulse All this, uttered in aa loud voice tremb
urged me to visit him . As I opened the ling with excitement, astounded me. I
door of his sitting-room unannounced, saw at a glance that I had accidentally
he was bending, with his back toward troilden upon the clues of Simon's secret,
me, over a carcel lamp, apparently en- whatever it was. It was necessary to re
gaged in minutely examining some object assure him .
which he held in his hands. As I en- “ My dear Simon ," I said, “ I am en
tered , he started suddenly, thrust his tirely at a loss to know what you mean .
hand into his breast pocket, and turned I went to Madame Vulpes to consult with
to me with a face crimson with confu her on a scientifie problem , to the solu
sion. tion of which I discovered that a diamond
“ What !” I cried, “ poring over the of the size I just mentioneel was neces
miniature of some fair lady ? Well, sary. You were never allues to dur
don't blush so much ; I won't ask to see ing the evening, nor, so far as I was con
it. ” cerned, even thought of. What can be
Simon lzughed awkwardly enough, but the meaning of this outburst ? If you
made none of the negative protestations happen to have a set of valuable dia
usual on such occasions. Ile asked me monds in your possession, you need fear
to take a seat. nothing from me. The diamond which
“ Simon ,” said I, “ I have just come I require you coulıl not possess ; or if you
from Madime Vulpes.” did possess it, you would not be living
This time Simon turne:l as white as a here . "
sheet, and seemed stupefied, as if a snil- Something in my tone must have com
den electric shock had smitten him . lle pletely reassured him ; for his expression
babbled some incoherent words, and went immediately changed to a sort of con
hastily to a small closet where he usually strained merriment, combined, however,
kept his liqnors. Althoug! astonished at with aa certain suspicious attention to my
his emotio :1, I was too preoccupied with movements. He laughe:l, and said that I
my own ilea to pay much attention to must bear with him ; that he was at cer
anything else. tain moments subject to a species of ver
“ You say truly when you call Malame tigo, which betrayed itself in incoherent
Vulpes a devil of a woman ,” I continued. speeches, and that the attacks passed off
" Simon , she told me wonderful things to as rapidly as they came. He put his
night, or rather was the means of telling weapon aside while making this explana
1858.] The Diamond Lens. 361

tion , and endeavored, with some success, The drunkenness began to return .
to assume a more cheerful air. He protested with maudlin earnestness
All this did not impose on me in the that I was entirely mistaken , —that I
least. I was too much accustomcıl to was intoxicated ; then asked me to swear
analytical labors to be baffled by so flimsy eternal secrecy, and promised to disclose
a veil. I determined to probe the mys- the mystery to me. I pledged myself, of
tery to the bottom . course , to all. With an uneasy look in his
Simon ,” I said, gayly, “ let us forget eyes, and hands unsteady with drink and
all this over a bottle of Burgwily. I nervousness , he drew a small case from
have a case of Lausseure's Clos Vougeot his breast and opened it. Heavens !
down -stairs, fragrant with the odors and Ilow the mild lamp-light was shivered
into a thousand prismatic arrows, as it
rudely with the sunlight of the Côte d'Or.
Let us have up a couple of bottles. What fell upon a vast rose -diamond that glit
say you ? ” tered in the case ! I was no judge of
“ With all my heart,” answered Simon, diamonds, but I saw at a glance that this
smilingly. was a gem of rare size and purity. I
I pro:luced the wine and we seated lookeil at Simon with wonder, and must
ourselves to drink . It was of a famous I confess it ? - with envy. How could
vintage, that of 1818 , a year when war he have obtained this treasure ? In re
and wine throre together ,-and its pure, ply to my questions, I could just gather
but powerful juice seemed to impart from his drunken statements (of which,
reneweil vitality to the system . By the I fancy, half the incoherence was affect
time we hael halt finished the second bot- ell) that he had been superintending a
tle, Simon's head , which I knew was a gang of slaves engaged in diamond -wash
weak onc, laul begin to yield, while I ing in Brazil; that he had seen one of
remained calm as ever, only that every them secrete a diamond, but, instead of
draught scemed to send a lush of vigor informing lis employers, had quietly
throngh my limbs. Simon's utterance witched the negro until he saw him
became more and more indistinct. He bury his treasure ; that he had dug it
took to singing French chansons of a not up , and fled with it, but that as yet he
very moral tendency. I rose snedenly was afraid to attempt to dispose of it
from the table just at the conclusion of publicly : -50 valuable a gem being al
one of those incoherent verses, and ng most certain to attract too much atten
my eyes on hin with a quiet smile, said : tion to its owner's antecedents, —and he
“ Simon , I have deceived you . I had not been able to discover any of
learned your secret this evening. You those obsrure channels by which such
may as well be frank with me. Mrs. matters are conveyed away safely. He
Vulpes, or rather, one of her spirits, told adılel, that, in accordance with Oriental
mo all." practice, he had named his diamond by
He started with horror. Ilis intoxica- the fanciful title of “ The Eye of Morn
tion secmel for the moment to fade away, ing .”
and he made a movement towards the While Simon was relating this to me,
weapon that he had a short time before I regarled the great diamond attentive
laid (lown . I stopped him with my ly. Never had I beheld anything so
handl. beautiful. All the glories of light, ever
66
" Monster ! ” he cried, passionately, “ I imagined or described, seemed to pulsate
am ruineil ! What shall I do ? You in its crystalline chambers. Its weight,
shall never have it ! I swear by my as I learned from Simon, was exactly
mother ! " one hundrel and forty carats. Here
" I don't want it, " I saiil ; “ rest secure , was an amazing coincidence. The hand
but be frank with me. Tell me all about of Destiny seemed in it. On the very
it. ” evening when the spirit of Leeuwenlock
362 The Diamond Lens. [ January,
communicates to me the great secret with one powerful blow I thrust it up to
of the microscope, the priceless means the hilt in the very spot which I desired
which he directs me to employ start up to penetrate. A convulsive thrill ran
within my casy reach ! I determined, rongh Simon's limbs. Dearl a smoth
with the most perfect deliberation, to pos ered sound issue from his throat, pre
sess myself of Simon's diamond. cisely like the bursting of a large air
I sat opposite him while he nouded bubble , sent up by a diver, when it
over his glass, and calmly revolved the reaches the surtace of the water ; he
whole atlair. I did not for an instant turneul halt round on liis siile, and as if
contemplate so foolish an art as a com- to assist my plans more effectually, his
mion theft, which would of course be dis- right hand, moved by some mere spas
covered , or at least necessitate flight and molie impulso, claspend the handle of the
concealment, all of which must interfere creest , which it remained hooliling with
with my scientific plans. There was but extraordinary ministönlar tenaity: Be
one step to be taken , -to kill Simon . vond this there was no apparent strug .
After all, what was the lite of a little gle. The laulamum , I presume, para
peddling Jew , in comparison wiih the lyze the usual nervous artion . He
interests of science ? Tuman beings are must have died instantancously.
taken every day from the condemned There was yet something to be done.
prisons to be experimented on by sur- To make it certain that all suspirion of
geons. This man, Simon, was by liis the act should be diverteil from any in
own contession a criminal, a robber, habitant of the house to Simon himself,
and I believed on my soul a murderer. it was necessary that the door should be
He deserved death quite as much as found in the morning locked on the in
any felon condemned by the laws; why sirle. How to do this, and afterwards
shoull I 209, like government, contrive escape myself ? Not by the window ;
that his punishment should contribute to that was a physical impossibility. Be
the progress of human knowledge ? siilex. I was determined that the windows
The means for accomplishing every- also stronkıl be found bolted . The solu
thing I desired lay within my reali. tion was simple enough. I descended
There stood upon the mantel-piere a sofily to my own room for a peruliar in
bottle full full of French laudanum . strument which I had used for holding
Siinon was so occupied with his dia- small slippery substances, such as minute
mond , which I had just restored to him , spheres of glass, etc. This instrument
that it was an atlair of no difficulty to was nothing more than a long slender
drug his glass. In a quarter of an hour hand -vie, with a very powerfiil grip,
he was in a profound sleep. and a considerable leverage, which last
I now opened his waistcoat, took the was accidentally owing to the shape of
diumonil from the inner pocket in which the handle. Nothing was simpler than,
he had placed it , and removert him to when the key was in the lo : k , to seize
the bel, on which I laid him so that liis the end of its stem in this vile, through
feet hung down over the edge. I had the keyhole, from the outside, and so lock
possemeerd myself of the Malay creeses, the door. Previously, however, to doing
which I belil in my right bend, while this, I burneel a number of papers on
with the other I discovered as accurately Simon's hearth . Suicides almost always
as I could by pulsation the exut locality burn papers before they destroy them
of the hert. It was essential that all selves. I also emptierl some more laula
the aspets of his death should leal to num into Simon's glass,-laving first re
the surmise of self-murder. I calculated moved from it all traces of wine. - clean
the exact angle at which it was probabile ed the other wine-glass, and brought the
that the weapon , if levelled by Simon's bottles away with me . If traces of two
own hand, would enter his breast ; then persons drinking had been found in the
1858.] The Diamond Lens. 363

room , the question naturally would have my diamond lens. I had constructed a
arisen , Who was the second ? Besides, vasi galvanic battery, composed of near
the wine -bottles might have been identi- ly two thousand pairs of plates,—a higher
fied as belonging to me . The laudlanım power I dared not use , lest the diamond
I poured out to arcount for its presence should be calcined . By means of this
in his stomachi, in case of a post-m01- enormous engine I was enabled to send
tem examination. The theory naturally a powerful curent of electricity contin
woull be, that he first intended to wally through my great dim :o : 16 , which
poison himselt, but, atier swallowing a it seemed to me gained in lustre every
little of the drug, was either disgusted day. At the expiration of a month I
with its taste, or changer lis nind from commenced the grinding and polishing
o :her motives, and chose the danger. of the lens, a work of intense toil and
These arrangements made, I walked out, exquisite delicacy. The great density
leaving the gas burning, lozkell the door of the stone, and the care required to
with my vice , and went to bed. be taken with the curvatures of the sui
Simon's death was not discovered until faces of the lens, rendered the labor the
nearly three in the afternoon . The ser- sererest and most harassing that I had
vant, astonished at seeing the gas burn- yet undergone.
ing, the light streaming on the dark At last tlic eventful moment came ;
landing from under the door, -- peeped the lens was completed. I stood trem
throngh the keyhole anil saw Simon on bling on the threshold of new worlds. I
the best She gave the alarm . The haid the realization of Alesinder's fa
door was burst open , and the neighbor- mous wih before me . The lens lay on
hood was in a fever of excitement. the table, ready to be placed mpon its
Every one in the house was arresteil, platform . My hand fairly shook as I
myself included . There was an inqnext ; enveloped a drop of water wiih a thin
but no clue to his death, beyond that of coacing of oil of turpentine, preparatory
suiciile , could be obtaineil. Curiously to its examination ,-a process necessary
enonghi, he had made several speeches in oriler to prevent the rapid evapora
to his friends the preceding week, that tion of the water. I now placed the
seemeil to point to self- lestruction. One drop on a thin slip of glass under the
gentlemin swore that Simon had sail in lens, and throwing upon it, by the com
his presence that " he was tired of lie. ” bineid aid of a prison and a nirror, a
llis landloril allirmed , that Simon, when powerful stream of light, I approached
paying him his last month's rent, remark- my eye to the minute hole cri!led throngh
ed that he would not pay him rent the axis of the lens. For an instant I
much longer.” All the ot!ier eviilence sow nothing save what secmeil to be an
correspondel.-- the door locked inside, illuminateil chaos, a vast luminous abyss.
the position of the corpse, the burnt pa A pure white light, cloulless and serene ,
pers. As I an :i:ipale , no one knew anil seemingly limitless as space itself,
of the possession of the diamond hy was my first impression. Gently, and
Simon , so that no motive was sngrestel with the greatest care, I depressed the
for his muriler. The jury, after a pro lens a few hairs' breadths. The won
longed examination , brought in the usual drous illumination still continuerl, but as
vervliet, anil the neighboril once moro the lens approxheal the oljerit, a scene
setried clown into its accustomce quict. of indescribable beauty was umboldled to
my view .
V. I secinel to gaze upon a vast space ,
the limits of which extended for bevond
AXIMULA .
my vision. An atmosphere of magical
The three months succceding Simon's luminousness permeated the entire field
catastrophe I devotrd night and day to of view . I was am::zed to see no trace
364 The Diamond Lens. [ January ,
of animalculous life. Not a living thing, lar arrangements of the internal economy
apparently, inhabited that dazzling ex- of Nature, with which she so frequently
panse. I comprehended instantly, that, splinters into atoms our most compact
by the wondrous power of my lens, I theories, I thought I beheld a form mov
had penetrated beyond the grosser par- ing slowly through the glades of one of
ticles of aqueous matter, beyond the the prismatic forests. I looked more at
realms of Infusoria and Protozoa, down tentively, and found that I was not mis
to the original gascous globule, into taken. Words cannot depict the anx
whosc luminous interior I was gazing, as iety with which I awaited the nearer ap
into an almost boundless dome filled with proach of this mysterious object. Was
a supernatural radiance . it merely some inanimate substance, held
It was, however, no brilliant void into in suspense in the attenuated atmosphere
which I looked. On every side I belielu of the globule ? or was it an animal en
beautiful inorganic forms, of unknown dowed with vitality and motion ? It ap
texture, and colored with the most en- proached , flitting behind the gauzy , col
chanting hues. These forms presented ored veils of cloud -foliage, for seconds
the appearance of what might be called, dimly revealed, then vanishing. At last
for want of a more specific definition , the violet pennons that trailed nearest to
foliated clouds of the highest rarity ; me vibrated ; they were gently pushed
that is, they undulated and broke into asitle, and the Forin Noated out into the
vegetable formations, and were tinged broad light.
with splendors compared with which the It was a female human shape. When
gilding of our autumn woodlands is as I say " human ,” I mean it possessed the
dross compared with gold. Far away outlines of humanity : - but there the an
into the illimitable distance stretched alogy ends. Its adorable beauty lifted
long avenues of these gascous forests, it illimitable heights beyond the loveliest
dimly transparent, and painted with pris- daughter of Adam .
matic hues of unimaginable brillianey. I cannot, I dare not, attempt to in
The pendent branches waved along the ventory the charms of this divine reve
fuid gladles until every vista seemed to lation of perfect beauty. Those eyes of
break through half -lucent ranks of many- mystic violet, dewy and serene, evade
colored drooping silken pennons. What my worrls. Her long lustrous hair fol
seemed to be either fruits or flowers, pied lowing her glorious head in a golden
with a thousand hues lustrous and ever wake , like the track sown in heaven
varying, bubbled from the crowns of this by a falling star, seems to quench my
fairy foliage. No hills, no lakes, no most burning phrases with its splendors.
rivers, no forns animate or inanimate If all the bees of Hybla nestled upon my
were to be seen, sare those rast auroral lips, they would still sing but hoarsely
copses that floated serenely in the lumi- the wondrous harmonies of outline that
nous stillness, with leaves and fruits and enclosed her form .
flowers gleaming with unknown fires, She swept out from between the rain
unrealizable by mere imagination . bow - curtains of the cloud- trees into the
How strange, I thought, that this I.road sea of light that lay beyond. Her
sphere should be thus condemned to soli- motions were those of some graceful
tude ! I had hoped , at least, to discover Naiad , cleaving, by a mere effort of her
some new form of animal life,-perhaps will, the clear, unruffled waters that fill
of a lower clas : than any with which we the chambers of the sea . She floated
are at present acquainted ,—but still, some forth with the serene grace of a frail
living organism . I find my newly dis- bubble ascending through the still at
covered world, if I may so speak, a beau- mosphere of a June day. The perfect
tiful chromatic desert. roundness of her limbs formed suave
While I was speculating on the singu- and enchanting curves. It was like lis
1858.) The Diamond Lens. 365

tening to the most spiritual symphony of moment, and then cleaving the brilliant
Beethoven the divine, to watch the bar- ether in which she was floating, like a
monious Now of lines. This, indeed, flash of light, pierced through the opaline
was a pleasure cheaply purchased at any forest, and disappeared.
price. What cared I, if I had waded to Instantly a series of the most singular
the portal of this wonder through an- sensations attacked me. It seemed as if
other's blood ? I would have given my I had suddenly gone blind. The lumi
own to enjoy one such moment of in- nous sphere was still before me, but my
toxication and delight. daylight had vanished. What caused
Breathless with gazing on this lovely this suilden disappearance ? Ilad she a
wonder, and forgetful for an instant of lover, or a husband ? Yes, that was the
everythiny save her presence, I withdrew solution ! Some signal from a happy
my eye trom the microscope cagerly; - fellow -being had vibrated through the
alas! As my gaze fell on the thin slide avenues of the forest, and she had obeyed
that lay beneath my instrument, the the sunwons.
bright light from mirror and from prism The agony of my sensations, as I ar
sparkled on a colorless drop of water ! rived at this conclusion , startled me. I
There, in that tiny bead of dew , this tried to reject the conviction that my
beautiful being was forever imprisoned. reason forced upon me. I battled against
The planet Neptune was not more dis- the fatal conclusion ,-but in vain . It
tant from me than she. I hastened once was SO . I had no escape from it. I
more to apply my eye to the microscope. loved an animalcule !
Animula (let me now call her by that It is truc, that, thanks to the marvel
dear name which I subsequently bestow- lous power of iny microscope, she ap
ed on her) bad changed her position. peared of human proportions. Instead
She had again approached the wondrous of presenting the revolting aspect of the
forest, and was gazing earnestly upwards. coarser creatures, that live and struggle
Presently one of the trees—as I must and dic, in the more easily resolvable
call them — unfolded a long ciliary pro portions of the water -drop, she was fair
cess, with which it scized one of the and delicate and of surpassing beauty.
gleaming fruits that glittered on its sum- But of what account was all that ? Ev
mit, and sweeping slowly down, held it ery time that my eye was withdrawn
within reach of Animnula. The sylph from the instrument, it fell on a miser
took it in her delicate hand, and began able drop of water, within which, I must
to eat. My attention was so entirely ab- be content to know , dwelt all that could
sorbed by her, that I could not apply make my life lovely:
myself to the task of determining whether Could she but see me once ! Could I
this singular plant was or was not in- for one moment pierce the mystical walls
stinct with volition . that so inexorably rose to separate us,
I watched her, as she made her repast, and whisper all that filled my soul, I
with the most profound attention . The might consent to be satisfied for the rest
suppleness of her motions sent a thrill of my lite with the knowledge of her
of delight through my frame ; my heart remote sympathy. It would be some
beat madly as she turned her beautiful thing to have established even the faint
capes in the direction of the spot in which est personal link to bind us together,
I stood . What would I not have given to know that at times, when roaming
to have had the power to precipitate my through those enchanted glades, she
self into that luninous ocean, and float might think of the wonderful stranger,
with her through those groves of purple who had broken the monotony of her life
and gold ! While I was thus breathless- with his presence, and lett a gentle mem
ly following her every movement, she ory in her heart !
suddenly started, seemed to listen for a But it could not be. No invention, of
366 The Diamond Lens. [ January,
which human intellect was capable, could I now comprehended how it was that
break down the barriers that Nature had the Count de Gabalis peopled his mys
erected . I might feast my soul upon her tic world with sylphis, -beautitul beings
wondrous beauty, yet she must always whose breath of life was lambent fire,
remain ignorant of the adoring eyes that and who sported forever in regions of
day and night gazed upon her, and , even purest ether and purest light. The Ro
when closed, beheld her in dreams. si: rucian had anticipated the wonder that
With a bitter ( ry of anguish I fled from I had practically realized.
the room , and, flinging myself on my bed, llow long this worship of my strange
subbed myself to sleep like a child . divinity went on thus | scarcely know .
I lost all note of time. All day from
early dawn , and tar into the night, I was
VI .
to be found peering through that won
dertul lens. I saw no one, went no
TIIE SPILLING OF THE CUP.
where, and scarce allowed myself suffi
I aRose the next morning almost at cient time for my meals. My whole life
daybreak, and rushed to my microscope. was absorbed in contemplation as rapt as
I trembles as I sought the luminous world that of any of the Romish saints. Every
in miniature that contained my all. Ani- hour that I gazed upon the divine form
mula was there. I had left the gas-lamp, strengthened my passion , -a passion that
surrounded by its moderators, burning, was always overshadowed by the mad
when I went to bed the night before. I dening conviction, that, although I could
found the sylpha bathing, as it were, with gaze on her at will, she never, never
an expression of pleasure animating her could behold me !
features, in the brilliant light which sur- At length I grew so pale and emacia
rounded her. She tossed her lustrous ted , from want of rest, and continual
golden hair over her shoulders with inno- brooding over my insane love and its
cent coquetry. She lay at full length in cruel conditions, that I determined to
the transparent meilium , in which she make some effort to wean myself from it.
supported herself with ease, and gam- Come," I said , “ this is at best but a
bolled with the enchanting grace that fantasy. Your imagination has bestowed
We Nymph Salmacis might have exhib- on Animula charins which in reality she
ited when she sought to conquer the does not possess. Seclusion from fe
molest IIermaphrolitus. I tried an ex- male society has produced this morbid
periment to satisfy myself if her powers condition of mind. Compare her with
of refletion were developed. I lessened the beautiful women of your own world,
the lamp -light considerably. By the and this false enchantment will vanish ."
dim light that remained , I could see an I looked over the newspapers by
expression of pain flit across her face. chance. There I beheld the advertise
She looked upward suddenly, and her ment of a celebrated danseuse who ap
brows contracted . I flooded the stage of peared nightly at Niblo's. The Signorina
the microscope again with a full stream Caradolce had the reputation of being
of light, and her whole expression chang- the most beautiful as well as the most
cil. She sprang forward like some sub- graceful woman in the world . I instantly
stance depriveal of all weight. IIer eyes dressed and went to the theatre .
sparkleil, and her lips moved. Ah ! if The curtain drew up. The usual semi
science had only the means of conduct- circle of fairies in white muslin were
ing and reduplicating sounds, as it does standing on the right toe around the en
the rays of light, what carols of happi- amelled flower -bank, of green canvas, on
ness would then have entranced my cars ! which the belated prince was sleeping.
what jubilant hymns to Arlonais would Suddenly a flute is heard. The fairies
have thrilled the illumined air ! start. The trees open , the fairies all
1858.] The Diamond Lens. 567

stand on the left toe, and the queen en- mula for hours with a breaking heart, and
ters. It was the Signorina. She bound- she seemed absolutely to wither away
ed forward amid thunders of applause, under my very cyc. Suddenly I re
and lighting on one foot remained poised membered that I had not looked at the
in air. Heavens! was this the great en- water-drop for several days. In fact, I
chantress that had drawn monarchs at her hated to see it ; for it reminded me of
chariot-wheels ? Those heavy muscular the natural barrier between Animula and
limbs, those thick ankles, those cavern- myself. I hurriedly looked down on the
ous ( yes, that stereotyperl smile, those stage of the microscope. The slide was
cruilely painted checks ! Where were still there,—but , great heavens ! the wa
thieu vermeil blooms, the liquid expressive ter-drop had vanished ! The awful truth
cyes, the harmonious limbs of Animula ?burst upon mc ; it had evaporated, until
The Signorina danced. What gross, it had become so minute as to be invisi
discordant movements ! The play of her ble to the naked eye ; I had been gazing
limbs was all false and artificial. Her on its last atoin, the one that contained
bounds were painful athletic efforts ; her Animula ,—and she was dying !
poses were angular and distressed the I rushed again to the front of the
eve. I could bear it no longer; with an lens, and looked through. Alas ! the last
exclamation of disqust that drew every agony had seized her. The rainbow
eve upon me . I rose from my seat in the hued forests had all melted away , and
very miilille oi' the Signorina's pas-de- jas- Animula lay struggling feebly in what
cination , and abruptly quitted the house. seemed to be a spot of dim light. Ah !
I listened home to fcast my cyes once the sight was horrible : the limbs once
more on the lovely form of my sylph. I so round and lovely shrivelling up into
felt that henceforth to combat this pas- nothings ; the eyes—those eyes that shone
sion would be impossible. I applied my like heaven - being quenched into black
eye to the lens. Animula was there', - dust ; the lustrous golden hair now lank
but what could have happened ? Some and discolored . The last throe came. I
terrible change seemed tu have taken beheld that final struggle of the blacken
place during my absence. Some secret ing forin — and I fainted.
griet' seemed to cloud the lovely features When I awoke out of a trance of
of her I gazeil upoil. ller face had many hours, I found myself lying amid
grown thiin anul hangard ; her limbs trail- the wreck of my instrument, myself as
ed he:wily ; the wondrous lustre of her shattered in inind and boily as it. I
gollon hair had faded . She was ill ! crawled feebly to my bed, from which I
ill , and I coulil not assist her ! I believe did not rise for months.
at that moment I would have glaully for- They say now that I am mad ; but they
feitel all claims to my huinan birthright, are mistaken. I am poor, for I have
if I could only have been dwarfed to the neither the heart nor the will to work ; all
size of an animalcule, and permitted to my money is spent, and I live on charity.
console her from whom fate had forever Young men's associations that love a joke
divideil me . invite me to lecture on Optics before them ,
I racked my brain for the solution for which they pay me, and laugh at me
of this mystery. What was it that af- while I lecture. “ Linley, the mad micro
flirted the sylph ? She seemed to suffer scopist,” is the name I go by. I suppose
intense pain. Iler features contracted, that I talk incoherently while I lecture.
and she even writhed , as if with some in- Who could talk sense when his brain is
ternal agony. The wondrous forests ap- haunted by such ghastly memories, while
pearvıl also to have lost half their beauty. ever and anon among the shapes of death
Their lues were dim and in some places I behold the radiant form of my lost
faded away altogether. I watched Ani- Animula !
868 The Sculptor's Funeral. [ January,

THE SCULPTOR'S FUNERAL.

Amid the aisle, apart, there stood

A mourner like the rest ;
And while the solemn rites were said,
He fashioned into verse his mood ,
That would not be repressed.

Why did they bring him home,

Bright jewel set in lead ?
Oh, bear the sculptor back to Rome,
And lay him with the mighty dead ,
With Adonais, and the rest
Of all the young and good and fair,
That drew the milk of English breast,
And their last sigh in Latian air !
Lay him with Raphael, unto whom
Was granted Rome's most lasting tomb;
For many a lustre, many an æon,
He might sleep well in the Pantheon ,
Deep in the sacred city's womb,
The smoke and splendor and the stir of Rome.

Lay him 'neath Diocletian's dome,

Blessed Saint Mary of the Angels,
Near to that house in which he dwelt,
House that to many seemed a home,
So much with him they loved and felt.
We were his guests a hundred tiines ;
We loved him for his genial ways ;
He gave me credit for my rhymes,
And made me blush with praise.

Ah ! there be many histories

That no historian writes,
And friendship hath its mysteries
And consecrated nights ;
Amid the busy days of pain ,
Wear of hand, and tear of brain,
Weary midnight, weary morn ,
Years of struggle paid with scorn ;
Yet oft amid all this despair,
Long rambles in the Autumn days
O'er Appian or Flaminian Ways,
Bright moments snatched from care,
1858.] The Sculptor's Funeral. 309

When loose as buffaloes on the wild Campagna

We roved and dined on crust and curds,
Olives, thin wine, and thinner birds,
And woke the echoes of divine Romagna ;
And then returning late,
After long knocking at the Lateran gate,
Suppers and nights of gods; and then
Mornings that made us new -born men ;
Rare nights at the Minerva tavern ,
With Orvieto from the Cardinal's cavern ;
Free nights, but fearless and without reproof, —
For Bayard's word ruled Beppo's roof.
O Rome ! what memories awake,
When Crawforil's name is said ,
Of days and friends for whose dear sake
That path of Ilarles unto me
Will have no more of dread
Than his own Orpheus felt, seeking Eurydice !
O Crawford ! husband, father, brother
Are in that name, that little word !
Let me no more my sorrow smother ;
Grief stirs me, and I must be stir cd.

O Death, thou teacher true and rough !

Full oft I fear that we have erred,
And have not loved enough ;
But oh, ye friends, this side of Acheron,
Who cling to me today,
I shall not know my love till ye are gone
And I am gray !
Fair women with your loving eyes,
Old men that once my footsteps led ,
Sweet children ,-much as all I prize,
Until the sacred dust of death be shed
Upon cach dear and venerable head,
I cannot love you as I love the dead !
But now , the natural man being sown ,
We can more lucidly behold
The spiritual one ;
For wc , till time shall end,
Full visibly shall see our friend
In all his hand did mould ,
That worn and patient hand that lies so cold !
When on some blessed studious day
To my loved Library I wend my way,
Amid the forms that give the Gallery grace
His thought in that pale poet I shall trace,-
Keen Orpheus with his eyes
Fixed deep in ruddy hell,
VOL. L. 24
370 The Sculptor's Funeral [ January,
Seeking amid those lurid skies
The wife he loved so well,
And feel that still therein I see
All that was in my Master's thought,
And, in that constant hand wherewith he wrought,
The eternal type of constancy.
Thou marble husband ! might there be
More of flesh and blood like thee !

Or if, in Music's festive hall,

I come to cheat me of my care,
Amid the swell , the dying fall,
His genius greets me there.
O man of bronze ! thy solein air
Best soother of aa troubled brain
Floods me with memories, and again
As thcu stand'st visibly to men ,
Beloved musician ! so once more
Crawford comes back that did thy form restore.

Well, -requiescat! let him pass !

Good mourners, go your several ways !
He needs no further rite, nor mass,
Nor eulogy, who best could praise
Himself in marble and in brass ;
Yet his best monument did raise,
Not in those perishable things
That men eternal deem ,
The pride of palaces and kings,
But in such works as must avail him there,
With Hin who, from the extreme
Love that was in his breast,
Said, “ Come, all ye that heavy burdens bear,
And I will give you rest ! ”
1858.] The President's Message. 371

TIIE PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE.

As a mere literary production, the and issues of the banks,” and to ring
Message of Mr. Buchanan is so superior changes of plırascolovy on the vices of
to any of the Messages of his immediate speculation, over-trading, and stock -job
predecessor, that the reader naturally bing. All the world is as familiar with
expects to find in it a corresponding su- all that as the President can be, and
preriority of sentiment and aim . When scarcely needed a reminder on either
we meet a man who is well-uressed, and score ; what we wanted of the head of
whose external demeanor is that of a the nation , —what a real statesman , who
gentleman , we are prone to infer that he understood his subject, would have given
is also a man of upright principles and us,—that is, if he had pretended to go
hovorable feelings. But we are very at all beyond the simple statement of
often mistaken in this inference ; the the fact of commercial revulsion , into a
nicc garnent proves to be little better discussion of it, was a comprehensive
than a nice disguise ; and the robe of and philosophic analysis of all the causes
respectability may cover the heart of a of the phenomenon, a calm and careful
very scurvy fellow. review of all its circunstances, and a
Mr. Buchanan's sentences run smoothly rigid deduction of broad general princi
enough; they are for the most part gran- ples from an adequate study of the en
matical; the tone throughout is sedate, tire case. But this the President has
il' not dignified ; and the general spirit not furnished . In connecting our com
unaulitious and moderate . But the mercial derangements with the disorders
doctrine, in our estimation, is, on the of the banking system he has unques
most essential point, atrocious, and the tionally struck upon aa great and funda
objects which are sought to be com- mental truth ; but it is merely a single
passed are unworthy of the man , the truth, and he strikes it in rather a vague
ollice, the country, and the age. We and random way. In considering these
refer, of course, to what is said of the reverses, there are many things to be
one vital question with us now , -the taken into account besides the constitu
question of Slavery in Kansas ; but be- tion and enstoms, whether good or bad,
fore proceeding to a discussion of that, of our American banks,-many things
let us say a word or two of other parts which do not even confine themselves to
of this important document. this continent, but are spread over the
The President intro :luces, as the first greater part of the civilized world .
of his topies, the prevailing money press Mr. Buchanan is still lamer in his sur.
ure , which he treats at considerable gestion of remedies than he is in his in
length, with some degree of truth, but quiry after causes. The Federal Govern
without originality or comprehensiveness ment, he thinks, can do little or nothing
of view . lle processes to inquire into in the premises, -a fatal admission at
the causes of the unfortunate disasters of the outset, and we are coolly turned
trule, and into the remedies which may over to the most unsubstantial and im
bu devised against their recurrence ; but practicable of all reliances, “ the wisdom
on neiher head is be remarkably pro- and patriotism of the State legislatures ” !
found or instructive. It is merely reiter- Why cannot the Federal Government
ating the commonplaces of the newspa- do anything in the premises ? The Pres
pers, to talk about “ the excessive loans ident tells us that the Constitution has
372 The President's Message. [ January ,
conferred upon Congress the exclusive would have about as much effect in pre
right “ to coin money and regulate the venting the tremendous abuses of bank
value thereof,” and that it has prohibited ing which he himself depicts, as a bit
the States from “ issuing bills of credit,” — of filigree iron-work would have in re
which phrase, if it mean anything, means straining the expansion of steam. Re
making paper -money ; and the interence strictions ! restrictions ! toujours restric
tions !—as if that method of correcting
would seem to be inevitable that Congress
the evil had not been utterly exploded
bas aa sovereign authority and power over
the whole matter. It may , moreover, by nearly two centuries of experience!
touch the circulation of bills, by means Mr. Buchanan calls himself a Democrat ;
of its indisputable right to lay a stamp- he is loud in his protestations of respect
tis upon paper ; and Mr. Gallatin long for the sagacity, the gooul-sense, and the
ago recommended the exercise of this virtue of the people ; his political school
power, as an effectual method of restrain- takes for its motto the well -known adage,
ing the emission of small notes. Upon “ That government is best which gov
what principle, then, can the President crns least " ; his party , if he does not,
assert so dictatorially as he does, that the purports to be a great advocate of the
Federal Government is concluded from emancipation of trade from all the old
action ? If the excesses of the State fashioned restraints which take the names
Banks are so enormous as he represents, of protections, tariffs, bounties, etc. etc.;
and so perpetually and so widely dis- and we wonder how it is, that, in his pre
astrous, why should it not interpose to sume excursions over the entire domain
avert the fearful evil ? Why refer us for of free-tracle, he should have got no
relief to the proceedings of thirty -one inkling of a thought as to the benefits of
different leurislative bodies, no three of free -traile in banking. We wonder that
which, probably, would agree upon any 80 great a subject could be dismissed
coherent system ? We do not ourselves with the suggestion of a few petty re
say that Congress ought to interfere and straints.
undertake by main force to regulate the " If the State legislatures,” remarks
currener, because we hold to other and , the Presiilent, summing up liis entire
66
as we think , better methods of arriving thought, " allord is a real specie basis for
at a sound and stable curreny ; but froin our circulation , by increasing the denomi
the stand -point of the President, and nation of bank -notes, first to twenty, and
with his views of the etlicienes of legis afterwards to fitiy dollars ; if they will
lative restrictions upon banks, we do require that the banks shall at all times
not see how he could consistently avoid keep on hand at least one dollarof gold
recommending the instant action of Con- and silver for every three dollars of their
gress. On the heel of his grandiloquent circulation and deposits ; and if they will
description of the evils of rerumdant pas provide, by a self-executing enactment,
per money , -evils which are felt all over which nothing can arrest, that the moment
the country ,—it is a lamentably impotent they suspend they shall go into liquila
conclusion to say , “ After all, we can't do tion ; I believe that such provisions, with
much to help it ! Yes, let us confide a weekly publication by each bank of a
piously in the wisdom and patriotism of statement of its condition, would go far
the State legislatures,'” — which are al- to secure us against future suspensions of
most the last places in the world, as specie payments.”
things go, where we should look for Singular blindness ! Mr. Buchanan
either quality. liveil for several years, as American am
Not being able to do anything himself, bassador, in England. It is to be pre
however, what does he urge upon the sumed that while there he used liis eyes,
wise and patriotic State legislatures ? and possibly bis brains. He must have
Why, a series of flimsy restrictions, which noticed occasionally, at least, in his walks
 1858.] The President's Message. 373

through “ the city," the immense marble musi bestow an carnest plaudit upon
structure in Threadneedle Street, known his decided rebuke of the fillibusters,
as the Bank of England. It is certain coupling that praise with a wish that the
that he has read the history of that bauk, “ vigilance ” of his subordinates may here
inasmuch as it is twice or thrice alluded after prove of a more wide -awake and
to in his Vessage; he cannot be ignorant, mergetic kind than bas yet been mani
therefore, that the “ circulation ” of Eng feste .
Bound has essentially “ a sperie basis ” ; But for the terms in which the Pre -i
hat ? .0 bank -notes are issued there for dent has disposed of his thirl topic',
less than the amount of twenty -five dol- the Kansas difficulty, — we can scarcely
iars ; that the banks at all times keep on characterize their disingenuousness and
hand one dollar of sold for every ilarre !!:( 21 ) ( ss. We have already spoken of
Collars of their circulation and deposits " ; the obicct of this part of the document
and that the laws of bankruptcy are ::S atrocious,---and we repeat the worl,
alike rigid in rgard to institutions and as the most befitting that could be used.
individuals. These are precisely the juro- That object is nothing less than an at
visiops which he commends to the adop topt to cover the enormous franus
sion of wise and patriotic Stato legisla- which have marked the proceedings of
tures as an admirable corrective for srs- the Pro -Slavery agents in Kansas, tiom
perius: ret he forgets to explain to us t?, ir initiation, with a varnish of smooth
low it happens that the Bank of Eng- and plausible pretests. truitlı taking
Land, to which they are all applied, has up the questione ät the point which it
virtually suspended payment six times in had reached when lois own administra
lhe course of its existence, having been tion began , he leaves out of view all
saved from open dishonor only by the the antecedent crimes, treacheries, and
zimelo asistance of the governmást , tricks by which the people of the Terri
while, the trade of Englaw , in spite of tory liad lxen led into civil war, anul
' the stoid and conservative habits of the Uus mes that the late Lecompton
people, is quite as liable to those terrific Convention was a legitimate Convention ,
tarantula - lances, called revulsions, as our and that the Constitution frameel by it
Own . Before urging his “ restraints,” ( or said to have been framed by it , —for
the President ought to have inquired a there is no oficial report of the instiz
Cittle into the history of such restraints; ment as yet) was framed in pursuance
and he would then have saved himself of proper authority or law. lle does
from the absurdity of patronizing reme- not tell us that the Territorial legislature
clie's wbich an actual trial had proved which caller this Convention was a
ludicrously inapt and inefficacious. usurping legislature, brought together, as
With regard to the second topic of the the Congressional recorls show , by an
Messaye,, our foreign relations,—it may inva :ling horile from a neighboring State ;
be said that the positions assuned are he clues not tell us, that, even if it had ,
frank, manly, and explicit ; unless we been a properly coolstituted body in it
have reason to suspect, in the slightly self , it had no right to call aa Convention
belligerent attitude towards Spain, a for the purpose of superseding the Terri
return , on the part of the President, to torial organization ; he does not tell us
one of his old and unlawful loves,—the that the Convention, as assembled, repre
3: quisition of Cuba. In that case, we senteri but one-tenth of the legal voters of
should deplore his language, and be in- the Territory ; nor does he seem to re
clined to doubt also the sincerity of his gard the fart, that the other nine- tenths
just denunciations of Walker's infamous of the people were virtually disfranchised
schemes of pirary and brigandage. Un- by that Convention , so far as their right to
til events, however, have developed the determine the provisions of their organic
signs of a sinister policy of this sort, we Jaw is concerned, as at all a vital and
374 The President's Message. [ January,
important fact. By a miserable juggle, be submitted to them,” so that there
worthy of the frequenters of the gam- might be “ a fair expression of the popu
bling -house or the race -course, the people lar will." Nothing, in short, could have
of Kansas have been nominally allowed been clearer, more direct, more fre
to decide the question of Slavery, and quently repeated, than the assevera
that permission , according to Mr. Bu- tions of the “ Democratic Party," made
chanan, fulfils and completes all that through its official representatives, its
he ever meant , or his associates ever newspapers, and its orators , to the
meant , by the promise of popular sover- effect , that its only object, in its Kansas
eignty ! policy, was to secure “ the great prin
Now this may be all that the Presi- ciple of Popular Sovereignty.” On the
dent and his party ever picant by that strength of these assurances alone, it
phrase, but it is not all that their words was enabled to achieve its harul -wou
expressed or the country expected. In victory in the last Presidential campaign .
the course of the last three or four years, Mr. Buchanan owes bis position to them ,
and by a series of high-handed measures, as is repeatedly admitted by Mr. Doug.
the established principles of the Federal las in his speech of December 9th last,
Government, in regaril to its manage- -and the whole nation, having discuss
ment of the Territories,-- principles sanc- ed and battled and voted on the prin
tioned by every administration from ciplc, acquiesced, as it is accustomed to
Washington's down to Fillmore's,-have do atier an election, in the ascendency
been overruled for the sake of a new of the victors. It prepared itself to see
doctrine, which goes by the name of the application of the principle which
Popular Sovereignty. The most sarred had been announced and defended as
and binding compacts of former years so important and wise.
were annulled to make way for it ; Under these pledges and promises,
and the judicial department of the gove what has been the performance ? A
ernment was violently hauled froin its Convention, for which, inasmuch as it
sacreed retreat, into the political arena , was illegally called by an illegal bolly, a
to give a gratuitous coup- ile -grace to the large proportion of the citizens of Kansas
old opinions and the apparent sanction refused to vote, frames a Constitution, in
of law to the new dogma, so that Pope the interest and according to the convic
ular Sovereignty might reign triumphant tions of the slenderest minority of the
in the Territories. At the convention people ; it incorporates in that Constitu
of the party which nominated Mr. Bu- tion a recognition of old Territorial laws
chanan as a candidate for his present to the last degree offensive to the major
office, — " a celebrated occasion ,” as he ity of the people ; it incorporates in it a
calls it , -- the members aflirmed in the clause establishing slavery in perpetuity ;
most emphatic manner the right of the it connects with it a Schedule perpetuat
people of all the Territories, incluling ing the existing slavery, whatever it may
Kansas, to form their own Constitutions be, against all future remedy which 11:13
as they pleased , under the single condi- not the sanction of the slave-master ; arı
tion that it should be republican. Mr. then , by a miserable chicanc, it submits
Buchanan reiterated that assertion in the Constitution to a vote of the people,
his inaugural address, and in subsequent but it submits it under such terms, tha:
communications. When he appointed the people, if they vote at all, must vote
Mr. Robert J. Walker Governor of the for it, whether they like it or not, while
Territory, lie instructed him to assure the the only part in which they can exerciso
people that they should be garantiert any choice is the clause which relates to
against all “ trand or violence ” when future slavery. The other parts, espe
they should be called upon “ to vote for cially the Schedule, which recognizes the
or against the Constitution which would existing slavery, anıl that almost irreme
1858.] The President's Message. 375

diably, the people are not allowed to pro- troduced ; for the monopoly of that
nounce upon . They are not allowed to branch of trade and merchandise, which
pronounce upon the thousand-and-one is already established, and the future
details of the State organization ; they growth and increase of it, must not be
arc fobbed off with a transparent cheat interfered with, even by Popular Sover
of “ heads I win , —tails you lose ” ;—and eignty, because that would be “ an act
the whole game is denominated, Popular of gross injustice.” In other words,
Sovereignty . Popular Sovereignty is merely design
What is worse , the President of the ed to cover the right of the people to
United States argues that this would be vote on a single question, specially pre
a fair settlement of the question, and that sented by an illegal body, under electoral
in the exercise of such a choice, the glo arrangements made by its new officers,
rious doctrine of Popular Sovereignty is which ollicers not only receive, but count
amply applied and vindicated. He admits the votes, and make the returns,—wbile
that “ the correct principle,” as in the case all the rest is merely unimportant and
of Minnesota, is to refer the Constitution trivial. It is just the sort of sovereignty
" to the approval and ratification of the for which Louis Napoleon provided when
people ” ; he admits that the only mode he wished to procure a popular sanction
in which the will of the people can be for the numberless atrocities of the coup
“ authentically ascertained is by a direct d'état of the 2d December.
vote " ; he admits that the “ friends and An old authority tells us that “ it is hard
supporters of the Kansas-Nebraska Act, to kick against the pricks” ; and the Pres
when struggling to sustain its provisions ident appears to have experienced the
before the great tribunal of the Ameri- difficulty, in kicking against the pricks
can people ,” “everywhere, throughout of his conscience. He had committed
the Union, publicly pledged their faith himself to a principle which he is now
and honor ” to submit the question of compelled by the policy of his Southern
their domestic institutions " to the decis- masters to evade, and is painfully embar
ion of the bonâ-fide people of Kansas, rassed as to how he shall hide his tracks.
without any qualification or restriction He knows, as all the world knows, that
whatever ” ; but then, - and here is this jugglery in Kansas has been per
the subterfuge,-— " domestic institutions ” formed for no other purpose than to se
means only the single institution of slar- cure a foothold for Slavery there, against
ery ; and the Convention, in consenting the demonstrated opinion of nine- tenths
to yield that (and this only in appear of the people; he knows, as all the world
ance) to the arbitrament of the people, knows, that if the Convention had had
has fully satisfied all the demands of the the least desire to arrive at a fair ex
principle of Popular Sovereignty! Their pression of the popular will, on the ques
other questions are all “ political " ; the tion of Slavery or any other question, it
questions as to the organization of their was easy to make a candid and honor
executive, legislative, and judicial de- able submission of it to an election to be
partments, as to their elective franchise, held honestly under the recognized offi
their distribution of districts, their banks, cers of the Territory ; but he knows, also,
their rates and modes of taxation, etc., that under such circumstances the case
etc., are not domestic questions, but po- would have been carried overwhelmingly
litical; and provided the people are against the “ domestic institution,” and
sufforeil to vote on the future (not the thus have rebuked, with all the emphasis
existing ) con lition of slaves, faith has that an outraged community could give
been suficiently kept. Popular Sover- to the expression of its will, the nefarious
eignty means “pertaining to negroes," conduct which the party ” has pursued
-not the negrocs already in the Terri- from the beginning, -and this was a con
tory, but those who may be hereafter in- summation not to be wished. He there
376 The Wedding Veil. [ January,
fore wriggles and shufiles, with an ab- have been so long persisted in, to over
surd and transparent inconsistency, to ride the convictions and hopes and in
defeat the popular will, and yet mouth terests of a large majority of the Kansas
it bravely about “ the great principle of settlers, are utterly abandoned by those
Popular Sovereignty." who are in power.
The President thinks that it is time Of the remaining and mostly routine
that these troubles in Kansas were at an topics of the Message we have no occa
end, and we cordially agree with him in sion to speak ; and we only regret that
the sentiment; but he needs scarcely to the deficiencies of the most important
be reminded that they never will be at parts are so glaring as to oblige us to
an end, until the wicked schemes , which treat thein with undisguised severity.

THE WEDDING VEIL.

DEAR Axxa, when I brought her veil,

Her white veil, on her wedding -night,
Threw o'er my thin brown hair its folds,
And, laughing, turned me to the light.
“ See, Bessie, see ! you wear for once
The bridal veil , forsworn for years !”
She saw my face,-her laugh was hushed,
Her happy eyes were filled with tears.

With kindly haste and trembling hand

She drew away the gauzy mist ;
“Forgive, dear heart ! ” — her sweet voice said ;
Her loving lips my forehead kissed.

We passed from out the searching light ;

The summer night was calm and fair :
I did not see her pitying eyes,
I felt her soft hand smooth my hair.
IIer tender love unlocked my heart ;
Mid falling tears, at last I said,
“ Forsworn indeed to me that veil,
Because I only love the dead ! ”
She stood one moment statuc-still,
And, musing, spake in under- tone,
“ The living love may colder grow ;
The dead is safe with God alone ! ”
1358.] Literary Notices.
LITERARY NOTICES.
The Spanish Conquest in America, and its
Rolution to the History of Slavery and to
the Gorcrnment of Colonies. By ARTHUR
HIELPs. Vols. I. and II. London, 1855.
Vol. III. London, 1857.
Tunis vork has a double claim to atten-
tion in America ;-first, on account of its
great intrinsic merit as a narrative of the
beginnings of the European settlement of
this continent ; secondly, as containing a
thorougli and exceedingly able account of
the planting of Slavery in America , and
the origin of that system which has been
and is the great blighit of the civilization
of the New World .
Mr. Ilelps is endowed in large measure
with the qualities of an historian of the
highest oriler. A clear and comprehensive
vision, a wide knowledge and careful study
of human nature, free and generous sym-
pathies are united in him with a pene-
trative imagination which vivifies the life
of past times , with a reverence for truth
which excludes prejudice and preposses-
sion, and with a profoundly religious spirit.
The tone of his thought is manly and vig-
orous , and his style, with the beauty of
which the rua.k.rs of his essays have long
been familiar, is marked by quiet grace
and unpretending strength . There are
many passages in these volumes of wise
reflection and of pleasant humor. In the
drawing of character and in the narration
of events Mr. Helps is equally happy .
The pages of his book are full of life-
like portraits of the great soldiers and
great priests of the time, and of animated
pictures of the scenes in which they were
engaged.
Mr. lleljis las investigated his subject
with zeal , industry , and patience . He has
sought out the original authorities, has
brought to light many important facts , has
redeemed some great memories from un-
just oblivion , and has presented a new
view of several of the chief features of
the history. In a graceful advertisement
to the third volume he says, “ The reader
will observe that there is scarcely any al-
lusion in this work to the kindred works
of modern writers on the same subject.
377
This is not from any want of respect for
the able historians who have written upon
the discovery or the conquest of America.
I felt, however, from the first, that iny ob
ject in investigating this portion of history
was different from theirs ; and I wished to
keep my mind clear from the influence
which these cmipent persons might have
exercised upon it . ”
A considerable space in these volumes
is devoted to an investigation of the char
acter and condition of the native races of
the continent at the period of the Spanish
Conqnest. This sulject is treated with
peculiar skill and learning, and with un
usual power of sympathetic analysis and
appreciation of remote and obscure de
velopments of society. Anot !ier portion
of the history, which his plan lias led Mr.
llelps to trcat at length and with exhaust
ive thorough:ness, is the early relations be
tween the conquerors and the conquered,
embracing the method of settlement of
the different countries, the whole disas
trous system of ripartimientos anil encomi
endas, which , in its full development, led to
the destruction of the native population of
llispaniola, and to the introduction of ne
groes into this and the other West India
islands to supply the demand for laborers .
Another most interesting portion of his
subject, and one which has never till now
been fairly exhibitel, relates to the labors
of the Dominican and Franciscan monks,
and their admirable and unwcaried efforts
to counteract and to remedly some of the
bitterest evils of the conquest . Theirs
were the first protests that were raised
against slavery in America , and their
ranks afforded the first martyrs in the
cause of the In :lian and the Negro. Las
Casas has found an eloquent and just bi
ographer, and Mr. Helps has the satisfac
tion of h : ving securely placed his naine
among the few that deserve the lasting
honor and repicmbrance of the world.
The narrative of Las Casas's life is one of
strong dramatic interest. His life was a
varied and remarkable one, even for those
times of striking contrasts and varieties in
the fortunes of men ; and in Mr. Helps's
pages one sees the man himself, with his
 378
Literary Notices. [ January,
simplicity and clevation of purpose , his and statistics as our railroad experiences
honesty of motive, his energy , his impetu- have furnished and proved.
osity , his courage, and his faithı. Railroad engineering and management
The tree volumes already published have united almost every branch of me
cmbrace the progress of Spanish conquest chanical and financial science, and have
from the first discoveries of Columbus to developed several new and peculiar arts ;
Pizarro's incursion into l'eru . It is sin- so that the successful construction , equip
cerely to be hoped that Mr. llelps may ment, and management of a railroad re
continue his work, at least to the period quire a rare combination of accomplish
when the Spanish conquest and coloniza- ments. Managers hitherto have been too
tion were met and limited by the conquest little acquainted with their business to set
and the colonization of the other European ule many questions of economy , but they
nations. Its importance , as a wise, thought- are now beginning to look upon their en
ful , unpolemic investigation of the origin terprises with cooler judgments.
and the results of Slavery , is hardly to be The “ llandbook " discusses several
overestimated . The space allowed to a questions of economy, but seeks, espe .
critical notice does not permit us to render cially in its rules and formulas, to avoid
it full justice. We can do little more than those risks by which economy has often
recommend it warmly to the readers of been turned into the most ruinous extrav
history and to the students of the most agance . On the question of fuel , our
difficult and the darkest social problem of author advocates the use of coke as the
the age . most economical and convenient, and every
way preferable where it can be readily ob
Handlook of Railroad Construction , for the tained . He also urges, on economical
Useof American Engineers. Containing grounds,amore moderate rate of speed in
railroal travel ; thus showing that we may
the Necessary Rules, Tables, and Formulie save our forests, our lives, and a consider
for the Location , Construction , Equipment,
and Management of Railroads, as built in able expense all at the same time.
the United States. With 158 Illustrations. The style is clear, and , for a work not
By George L. Vose, Civil Engineer. professing to be a complete treatise, but
Boston : James Munroc & Co. 1857. only a manual of useful tacts, thic arrange
12mo. pp . 480 . ment is admirable . The book is thor
oughly practical, and touches upon such
All who trust their persons to railroad matters, and for the most part upon such
cars, or their estates to railroad stocks, matters only, as are likely to be of service
will welcome every effort to enlighten that to the practical man ; yet it is quite ele.
irresponsible body of railroad builders and mentary in its character, and free from
managers in whose wits we put our faith. unnecessary technicalities.
The work which we here notice is in- The book has, however, one great fault.
tended for uneducated American engi. It is full of errata. No carefully prepared
neers, of whom there are unfortunately table of corrections can make amends for
too many. The rapidity with which our such a fault in a book in which typograph
railroads have been built, and the experi- ical correctness is of the greatest impor.
mental character of this new branch of tance . To insert in their places with a
engineering, have obliged us to resort to pen more than two hundred published
such native ability and mother wit as our corrections is a labor which no reader
people could afford . The great body of would willingly undertake. We hope,
our railroad engineers have had no train- therefore, that a new and correct edition
ing but the experience they have blundered will soon be published.
through ; and even our railroad financiers
are men more distinguished for courage
The Life of Ilandd. By Victor Schoel
and energy than for experimental skill . CIER . Reprinted from the London Edi
Mr. Vose's book will doubtless be of
tion . New York : Mason , Brothers.
great service in remedying these evils,
by bringing within the reach of every in It is aa remarkable fact, and one not very
telligent man a valuable and very carefully creditable to the musical public of Eng.
prepared summary of such rules, formulas, land, that the works of Mainwaring, Ilaw
1853.] Literary Notices. 379

kins, Burney , and Coxe should remain from the path that Bach so successfully
for almost an entire century after the death followed , into that which he pursued with
of Handel our main sources of information equal success ; and though the amount of
concerning his career, and that the first matter relating to him personally be small ,
attempt to write a complete biography of much that throws light upon his early life
that great composer , correcting the errors, still remains inaccessible to the Englisii
reconciling the contradictions, and sup- reader.
plying the deficiencies of those authors, The biography of a great creative artist
should be from the pen of a French exile . must in great measure consist of a liistory
And yet during all this time materials of his works ; and the great value of the
have been accumulating, the time of the book before us arises from the searching
composer has been extending, the demand examination to which M. Schoelcher has
for such a work increasing, and the num- subjected the several collections of Ilan
ber of intelligent and clegant Engiishi del's manuscripts which are preserved in
writers upon music growing greater. Englanıl, one of which , in some respects
M. Schoelcher's work, though perhaps the most valuable, las fallen into his own
the most valuable contribution to musical possession . This examination, for the first
historical literature which has for many time male , together with the first careful
years appeared from the English press, and thorough search for whatever might
leaves much to be desired . Excepting a attöri a ray of light in the various period
correction of the chronology oi llanuel's icals of Ilaniel's time, has enabled the au
visit to Italy , very little, it anything, of thor to correct innumerable crrors in pre
importance is added to what we already vious writers, anıl trace step by step the
possessed in regard to the carly history of rapiil succession of opera , anthem , serena
the composer . We look in vain for the ta , and oratorio, which filled the years of
means of tracing the development of his the composer's manhool. For the gen
genins. The impression lett upon the eral reader, perhaps, M. Schoelcher has
mind of the resuler is, that his powers been drawn too far into detail , and some
slowed themselves suddenly in full splen- passages of his work might have been bet
dor, and that at a single bound lie placed ter reserved for his “ Catalogue of Han
himself at the head of the dramatic com- cel's Works ” ; but these details are of the
posers of his age . This was not true higliest value to the student of musical
of Hasse, Mozart, Gluck , Cherubini, We- literature, and , indeed , form for him the
ber, in dramatic composition ; nor of Bach, principal charm of the work . The im
Haydn, Beethoven , in other branches of portance of the author's labors can be
the musical art. However great a man's di : ly appreciated only by those who have
gevins may be, he must live and learn . had occasion study somewhat exten
To attain the highest excellence, long con- sively the musical history of tlic last cen
tinueel study is necessary ; and Handel, tury. For them the results of thosc la
as we believe, was no exception to the bors as here presented are invaluable.
general law .
The list of works consulted by M.
Sermons of the Rev. C. II. Spurgeos, of
Schoelcher, prefised to the biography, London . Third Series . New York :
shows that he has by no means exhaust Sheldon , Blakeman & Co.
ed the German authorities which may be
profitably used in writing upon the carly There can be no doubt of the merit of
history of Ilandel : indeed, the author, thesc sermons, considered as examples of
thonglı of German descent, is unacquainted method and embodiments of character.
with the German language. We can learn Whatever elements of Christianity may
from them the state of dramatic music at be left unexpressed in them , it is certain
that time in Berlin , Leipsic, Brunswick . that Mr. Spurgeon has succeeded in ex
Hanover, Köthen ; we can form from them pressing himself. His discourses at least
some correct idea of the powers of Keiser, give us Christianity as he understands,
Steffani, Graupner, Schieferdecker, Tele- feels, and lives it. They should be studied
mann , Grünwald , and others, then in pos. by all clergymen who desire to master the
session of the lyric stage ; we can thus secret of influencing masses of men . They
estimate the influences which led Handel will afford valuable hints in respect to
380 Literary Notices.
method , even when their spirit, tone, and
teaching present no proper model for imi- as to believe the doctrine of baptismal re
tation. Mr. Spurgeon, we suppose, would generation.” The doctrine, indeed, is so
be classed among Calvinists, but he is not
merely that. Without any force , depth ,
amplituile, or originality of thought, he
has considerable force and originality of
nature . He detaches froin their relations
certain doctrines of Calvinism which espe-
cially interest him , and so emphasizes and
intensifies them , so blends them with his
personal being and experience, that the
impression be stamps upon the mind is
rather of Spurgeonism than Calvinism .
He gives vivid reality to liis doctrines, be-
cause they are incorporated with bis na-
turc , -anıl not merely with his spiritual,
but with liis animal nature . He is thor-
oughly in carnest from the fact that he
preaches himself. His converts, therefore,
are likely to mistake being Spuryconized
for being Christianized ; for the Christian-
ity lie preaches is not so much vital Chris-
tianity is it is Christianity passed through
the vitalities of his own nature, and essen-
tially moulified and lowered in the process.
To un lerstanı , then , the kind of influ-
encc he exerts, we have simply to inquire,
What kind of man is Mr. Spurgeon ?
Tlie answer to this question is given on
every page of his serions . He has no
reserves, but lets his character transpire
in every sentence. Ile is a bolul, cager,
carnest, derout, passionate, well-intention
ed man , with consiilerable experience in
the sphere of the religious emotions, full
of sympathy with rough natures , full of
mother wit and practical sagacity, but, as ir
theologian, coarse , ignorant, narrow -mind-
cd, and strikingly deficient in fine spiritu-
al perecptions. These qualities inhero in
a nature of singular vigor, intensity , and
directness, that senils out worils like bul.
lets . Warmth of fecling combined with
narrowness of mind makes him a bigot;
but his bigotry is not the sour assertion of
an opinion , but the racy utterance of a
nature. He believes in Spurgeonism so
thoroughly and so simply that toleration
is out of the question, and doctrines op-
posed to his own he refors, with instantane-
ous and ingenuous dogmatism , to folly or
wickedness . “ I think ,” he says, in one
of liis sermons, “ I have none here so pro-
foundly stupid as to be Puseyites. I can
scarcely believe that I have been the
means of attracting one person here so
[ January ,
utterly devoid of one remnant of brain
nonsensical to him , that, after some carica
tures of it, he asserts that it would discred
it Scripture with all sensible men , if it
were taught in Scripture. God himself
could not make Mr. Spurgeon believe
it ; anel dloubiless there are many High
Churchimen who would retort , that noti
ing short of a miracle could make them
assent to some of the dogmas of their as
sailant . Indeed , the incapacity of our
preacher to discern , or mentally to repro
duce, a religious character differing in
creed from liis own, makes him the most
amusingly intolerant of Popes, not because
he is mulignant, but because he is Spur
goon . If he liad learning or larginess of
mind, he would probably lose the greator
portion of his power. He gets lois learers
into a corner, limits the range of their vis
ion to the doctrine he is expounding, re
fuses to listen to any excuses or palliations,
anil then screams out to them , “ Believe or
be damneil ! ” In his own minil he is sure
they will be lamnel, if they do not believe.
So far as regaris his influence over those
mirls whose religious emotions are strong,
but whose religious principles are weak,
every limitation of his mind is an increase
of his force .
This th:cological narrowness is unac
companieel with theological rancor. A
rongi but genuine benevolence is at the
lieart of Jr. Spurgeon's system . He
wishes liis opponents to be converted , not
con lemned . lle very properly tices, that,
with his ideas of the Divine Government,
die would be the basest of criminals, it he
spareil himself, or spared wither circaty
or denunciation , in tlic great work of sar
ing souls. lle throws himself with such
passionate carnestness into liis business,
that his sermons boil over with the excite
ment of his feelings. Indeed , it is difficult
to say whether our impressions of liin ,
derived from the written page, co ! ic to us
more from the cye than the car. llis very
style forms, rages, prays, entreats , a ljures,
weeps, screanis, warns, and execrates .
Ilis worls are words that everybolo ur
derstands, -bold , blunt, homely, quaint,
level to his nature, all alive with passion,
and directed with the single purpose of
carrying the fortresses of sin by assault.
The reader who contrives to preserve liis
1838.] Literary Notices.
calmness amid this storm of words can
not but be vexed that rhetoric so efficient
should frequently be combined with no-
tions so narrow , with bigotry so besotted ,
with religious principles so materialized ;
that the man who is loudly proclaimed
as the greatest living orator of the pulpit
should have so little of that Christian spir
it which refines when it inflames, which
exalts, enlarges, and purifies the natures it
moves. For Mr. Spurgeon is , atier all ,
little more than a theological stuinp-orator,
i l'rotestant Dominican, casy of compre
hension because he leaves out the higher
clements of his themes, and not hesitating
to rulgarize Christianity, it lie may there-
by exierul it among the vulyar. It has
been attempteil to justify him by the ex-
amples of Luther and Bunyan , to neither
of whom does he bear more than the most northern lills gives to those who are
superficial resemblance. llc is , to be sure,
stout en ugh not to be wilted by our hot
as natural as Luther, but then his nature . summers. For briskness, thriftiness, cn
happens to be a puny nature as compared
with that of the great Reformer ; and, not
to insist on specific differences, it is certain
that Luther, if alive, would have the same
objection to Mr. Spurgeon's bringing down
the doctrines of Christianity to the sup-
poscul mental condition of his lucarers, ils
he had to the Romanists of his day , who
corrupted religion in oriler that the pi:blic
" might be more generally accommodat-
eu . ” Bunyan's phraseology is homíly ,
but Buryan's celestializing imagination
kept l : is “ familiar grasp of' things divine ”
from bu an irreverent pawing of things
divine. Mr. Spurgeon's nature works on
a low level of influence. Deficient in ini-
agination , and with a minil coarse and un-
spiritualized , though religiously impressel,
he animalizes his crecd in attempting to
give it sensuous reality and impressive-
ness . If it be said that by this process
he feels his way into hearts which could
not be affected by more spiritual means,
the aller is , that the multitude who lis
tener in the Sermon on the Mount were
not ot' : inore elevated cast of mind than
the multitude who listened to Mr. Spur-
geon's sermon on “ Regeneration . ” But
the truth is , that Mr. Spurgeon's preaching
is likel, not simply because it rouses sin-
ners to repentance, but because it gives
sinners a certain enjoyment. It is racy ,
original, exciting, and comes directly from
the character of the preacher. It is rel-
ished, as Mr. Spurgeon tells us in his Pre-
381
facc, by “ princes of every nation and
nobles of every rank , ” as well as by hum
bler people. But we doubt whether Chris
tianity should be vulgarized to give jailed
nobles a new " sensation ," or in order to
be made a fit "gospel for the poor. ”
Roumania : the Border Land of the Christian
and the Turk. Comprising Adrentures
of Tiard in Eastern Europe and West
ern Asia . By JAMES 0. Noves, M. D.
Surgeon in the Ottoman Army. New
York : Rudi & Carleton, 310 Broadway .
1857 .
Dr. Juves Oscar Nores, the author of
this book , is an American all over. He
has the rapillity and cagerness of mind
that the champagny atmosphere of our
crgy, and alacrity, it is hard to find his
match . lle has maile a book of travels,
and will make a hundred , wless some
body, finds him a place at home where he
will have an indefinite number of labors
of-Ilercole's to keep him busy: -or unless
some African prince cuts his hiead off, or
Die happens to call upon thic Battas about
their Thanksgiving -time.
Hlere he has been streaming through
Eastern Europe and Western Asia , so hi
larious and good -tempered all the time, so
intensely wiele -2 wake, so perfectly at home
everywiere, so quick at friends,
so perti'ctly convinced that the world was
maile for Imerican travellers, and so apt at
proving it by his own example, that his
friends who missed him for a while not
only were not astonished to find that he
hail been a Surgeon in the Ottoman Army,
during this brief interval, but only won
dered he had not been Grand Vizier .
In this instance the book is the man , if
we may so far change Monsieur de Buf
fon's saying. It is full of fresh observa .
tions and lively descriptions , -perhaps a
little too overlariled and oversprigged with
prose and verse quotations, —but as lively
as a golden carp just landed. It describes
scenes not familiar to most reailers, tells
stories they have never heard, introduces
them to new costumes and faces, and helps
itself by the aid of pictures to make its
vivacious narrative real . We are much
pleased to learn that the work has met
 382 Literary Notices.
with a very good reception ; for we con- very probably know pretty well before he
sider it as the card of introduction of a
gentleman whom the American people will
Dante's III. Cantos I. to X. A Literal
Metrical Translation . By J. C. PEA-
BODY . Boston : Ticknor & Fields, 1857 .
A my must be either conscious of poct-
ic gitis and possessed of real learning, or
very presumptuous and ignorant, who un-
dertakes at the present day a new transla-
tion of Dante. Mr. J. C. Peaboily might
claim exemption from this dictum , on the
ground that his translation is not a nero
one ; but he himself does not put in this
plea, and we cannot grant to him the pos-
session of poetic power, or declare that lie
is not ignorant and presumptuous. lle
says in his Preface, with a modesty, the
worth of which will soon become apparent,
“ The present is on a different plan from
all other translations, and must be judged
accordingly. While I disclaini all inten-
tion of disputing the palm as a poct or
CARLYLE .
“ Art thou, then, that Virgil and that foun-
tain which pours abroad so rich a stre :un of
speech ? Insiered him with bashful front.
O glory and light of other poets! May the
long zeal avail me and the great lore which
made me search thy volume. Thou art my
muster and my author.”
Opening again at random , we take the two translations at the beginning of the
Eighth Canto .
CARLYLE .
“ I say, continuing, that long before we
reached the foot of the high tower our eyes
went upward to the summit, bec :111sc of two
flamelets that we saw put there ; and another
from fur gave signal back ,-so far that the
eye could scarcely catch it. And I, turning
to the Sea of all knowledge, said : What says
this ? and what replies von other light ? And
who are they that made it ? "
We open again in Cantos Nine and Ten ,
and find a like resemblance between Dr.
Carlyle's prose and Mr. Peabody's metre ;
but we have perhaps quoted enough to
enable our readers to form a just idea of
the latter person's “ labor and ploulding.”
It is not, however, in the text alone that
the resemblance exists. J. C. Peabody's
[January,
has done with them , and be the better for
the acquaintance .
scholar with the least of those who have
walked with Dante before me , yet, hy such
labor and ploulding as their genius would
not allow them to descend to , Have I
made a more literal, and perhaps, there
fore, a better translation than they all.”
Mr. J. C. Peabody is right in supposing
that none of the previous translations of
Dante could descend to such labor and
ploching as liis. In 1819, Dr. Carlyle
published his literal prose translation of
the “ Inferno ." It was in many respects
admirably done, and it has afforded great
assistance to the students of the poet in
their first progress. Mir. Peabouly does
. not acknowledge any obligations to it , or
refer to it in any way . Let us , however,
compare a passage or two of the two ver
sions. We open at linc 78 of the First
Canto . We do not divide Mr. l'eabody's
into the lines of verse.
PEARODY.
“ Irt thou thint Virgil and that fountain ,
then , which pours abroild so rich a stream of
speech ? Withi bashful forehead him I gave
reply . Olight and glory of the other bards !
May the long zeal and the great love avail me
that hath conseil me thy volume to explore.
Thou art my in : ster, thou my author art."
PE . BODY .
“ I say, continuing, that long before unto
the foot of that high tower we came, our eyes
unto its summit upwiri went, cause of two
fumelets that we saw there placed ; while
signal back another gave from far ; so far the
eye a glimpse could hardly citch . Then I to
the Sea of all wisdom turned , and said : What
saveth this and what replies that other fire ?
And who are they that made it ?
notes bear a striking conformity to Dr.
Carlyle's . There are fourteen notes to the
Second Canto in Mr. Peabody's book,
all taken , with more or less unimportant
alteration and addition , from Dr. Carlyle,
without acknowledgment. Of the twelve
notes to Canto Eight, nine are, with little
change, from Dr. Carlyle. We have come
1858.] Literary Notices.
pared no farther ; ex uno omnes . Now and
then Mr. Peabody gives us a note of his
own. In the First Canto, for instance ,
he explains the allegorical greyhound as
“ A looked for reforiner . “ The Coming
Man . ' The appropriateness and ele-
gance of which commentary will be mani.
fest to all readers familiar with the allusion.
In the Fourth Canto, where Virgil speaks
of the condition of the souls in limbo, our
professed translator says : “ Dante says
this in bitter irony. He ill brooks the
narrow bigotry of the Church,” ctc. etc. ,
showing an utter ignorance of Dante's
real adherence to the doctrine of the
Church . He has here read Dr. Carlyle's
note with less attention than usual ; for
a quotation contained in it from the “ De
Monarchii ” would have set him right.
The quotation is , however, in Latin , and
though Mr. Peabody bias transferred many
quotations from the " Æneid ” ( through Dr.
Carlyle ) to his own notes, they are often
so printed as not to impress one with
a strong sense of his familiarity with the
Latin language. We give one instance
for the sake of illustration . On page 40
appear the following lines :
Terribili sqnarlore Charon cni plurima mento
Canities inculta jucet ; staut luinina funina.
Nor is he happier in his quotations from
Italian, or in his other displays of learn-
ing. Having occasion to quote one of
Dante's most familiar lines, he gives it in
this way :
Lasciatte ogni speranzi, voi ch'entrate .
Anacreon is with him “ Anachreon ” ;
Vallombrosa is “ Vallambroso ” ; Aristo
telian is “ Aristotleian .” Five times ( all
the instances in which the name occurs)
the Ghibelline appears as the “ Ghiber
lines " ; and Montapcrti is transformed
into “ Montapesti.”
Nor is J. C. Peabody's poctic capacity
superior to his honesty or his learning ;
witness such lines as these :
“ My parents natives of Lombandy were."
66
• They'll come to blood and then the savage
party."
“ Like as at Palo near the Quarnāro."
“ I am not Encas; I am not Paul."
We have exhibited sufficiently the mer-
* 23 of what its author declares to be “ per-
383
haps a better translation " than any other.
He says that “ the whole Divine Comedy
of which these ten cantos are a specimen
will appear in due time.” If the specimen
be a fair one, the translation of the “ Pur
gatory” and the “ Paradise " will not ap
pear until after the publication of Dr.
Carlyle's prose version , for which we may
yot have to wait some time.
We are confident that so honorable a
publishing house as that of Messrs. Tick
nor and Fields must have been unaware
of the character of a book so full of false
pretences, when they allowed their name
to be put on the title- page. But to make
up for even unconscious participation in
such a literary imposition , we trust that
they will soon put to press the remainder
of Dr. Parsons's excellent translation of
Dante's poem , a specimen of which ap
peared so long since, bearing their im
print.
City Poems. By ALEXANDER SMITI,
Author of " A Life Drama, and other
Poems." Boston : Ticknor & Ficlds .
On the first appearance of Alexander
Smith , criticism became light-headed, and
fairly exhausted its whole vocabulary of
panegyric in giving liim welcome. “ There
is not a page in this volume on which we
cannot find some novel image, some Shak
spearium filicity of expression, or some strik
ing simile ," said the critic of the “ West
minster Review . ” “ llaving read these
extracts,” said another exponent of public
opinion , turn to any pout you will, and
compare the texture of the composition ,
it is a severe test, but you will find that
Alexander Smith bears it well.” It was
observable, however, that all this praise
was lavished on what were styled " beau
ties.” Passages and single lines, bricks
from the edifice, were extravagantly culo
gized ; but on turning to the pocins, it
was found that the proctical lines and
passages were not parts of a whole ,
that the bricks formed no edifice at all .
There were no indications of creative
genius, no shaping or constructive pow
er, no substance and fibre of individ .
uality , no signs of a great poc :ical na
ture, but a splendid anarchy of sensations
and faculties. The separate beauties, as
the author had heaped and huddled them
together, presented a total result of defor
 384
Literary Votices.
mity. It was also found , that, striking as
some of the images, metaphors, and simi
les were, they g re little poetic sulis
faction or delight. A certain thinness
of sentiment, poverty of idea, and shal
lowness of experience, were not hidden
from view , to one who looked sharply
through the gorgeous wrappings of worıls .
A small, but sensitive and facile nature,
capable of fully expressing itself by the
grace of a singularly fluent fancy, with an
apin.rite for beauty rather than a passion
for it , with no essential imagination and
opulence of soul, —this was the mortifying
result to which we were conducted by
analysis. Still , it was assorted that the
luxuriance of the young poet's mind prom
isce mol ; let a few years pass, and
Tomyson anıl Browning and Elizabeth
Barrell wone be at his feet. A few years
bave play , a ! :llere is lis second volume.
Iulia : less richness of fancy than the first,
but its merits and demerits are the sume.
The man has not yet grown into a poet, - merely to amuse by transforming history
las not yet learned that the foliage, flow into a material for poetical entertainment.
ers, and fruits of the mind shoull be con
nected with primal roots in its individual ume is amply wortlı reading.
being. These are still tied on , in his
old manner, to a succession of thoughts
and emotions, which have themselves
little vital connection with each other.
The her - lay in his blood , ” which
gare 111 appearance of exulting and
abouniling lite to liis first poems, has
somewhat subsided now , and the effect
is, that The City Poems," as a whole,
are leaner in spirit, and more inorbid and
despondent in tone, than the “ Life Dra
ma." Yet there is still so much Wat is
superficially striking in the volume, such
a waste of imagery and emotion , and so
many occasional lines and epithets of real
power and beauty , that we close the vol
ume with some vexation and pain at our
inability to award it the praise which
many readers will think it deserves .
[January,
FOREIGX.
Der Reichspostreiter in Ludwigsburg, Norelle
auf geschichtlichem Ilinterrunde. Von
ROBERT HELLER . 1858.
A VERY interesting norel indeed,
sketching life at the little court of the
Duke of Wurtemberg at the beginning
of the cighteenth century , and the over
throw of the government of a famous
mistress of the Duke, the Countess Wür
ben . The main points of interest in the
story are historical, and the tissue of fic
tion interwoven with these is remarkably
well arranged . llerr lleller belongs to
the school of German novelists who, like
Ilermaru kurz, and others of minor mark,
make a copious and comprehensive uso
of historical facts in Art . Their object
and aim seem to be rather to illustrate
and emboily the historical facts in the
flesh and blood of tangible reality , than
With all that, the abovenamed little vol
Une Eté dans le Sahara , par EUGENE FRO
MEXTIX . Paris. 1857.
A PUSTER describes hers a summer
journey through the Desert of Saliara, as
far south from Algiers as El Aghouat, in
the year 18:53 . There is not much that
is new in this book , considering the many
later and far more comprehensive and
extensive illustrations of life in the Great
Desert, since published by Bayard Tay
lor, Barth , and others ; but it is a very
interesting picture of this liti", as seen and
drawn by ci painter. Ilis descriptions con
tain m :my landscape and genre pictures, by
means of which a vivid idea of the scen
cry and life are conveyed to the imagina
tion of the reader .
 THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL. I.- FEBRUARY, 1858.-NO. IV .

THE GREAT FAILURE.

The crucial fact, in this epoch of way of accounting for them ; it will not,
commercial catastrophes, is not the stop therefore, appear presumptuous in us
page of Smith, Jones, and Robinson , - to offer a word on the common theme.
nor the suspension of specie payments Let it be premised, however, that we
by a greater or less number of banks , do not undertake a scientific solution of
but the paralysis of the trade of the civil- the problem , but only a suggestion or
ized globe. We have had presented to two as to what the problem itself really
us, within the last quarter, the remark- is. In a difficult or complicated case, a
able, though by no means novel, specta- great deal is often accomplished when
cle of a sudden overthrow of business,– the terms of it are clearly stated.
in the United States, in England, in It is not enough, in considering the
France, and over the greater part of effects before us, to say that they are
the Continent. the results of a panic. No doubt there
At a period of profound and almost has been a panic, a contagious consterna
universal peace, -when there had been tion, spreading itself over the commercial
no marked deficit in the productiveness world, and strewing the earth with in
of industry , —when there had been no numerable wrecks of fortune ; but that
extraordinary dissipation of its results by accounts for nothing, and simply de
waste and extravagance,—when no pes- scribes a symptom . What is the cause
tilence or famine or dark rumor of civil of the panic itself ? These daring Yan
revolution bad benumbed its energies, - kees, who are in the habit of braving the
when the needs for its enterprise were wildest tempests on every sea, these star
seemingly as active and stimulating as dy English, who march into the mouths of
ever, — all its habitual functions aredevouring cannon without a throb, these
arrested, and shocks of disaster run gallant Frenchmen, who laugh as they
along the ground from Chicago to Con- scale the Malakoff in the midst of belcb
stantinople, toppling down innumerable ing fires, are not the men to run like
well -built structures, like the shock of sheep before an imaginary terror. When
some gigantic carthquake. a whole nation of such drop their arms
Everybody is of course struck by these and scatter panic-stricken , there must
phenomena, and everybody has his own be something behind the panic ; there
VOL . I. 25
386 The Great Failure. [ February,
must be something formidable in it, some therefore, in extending to the financial
real and present danger threatening a difficulties of those nations a theory
very positive evil, and not a mere sym- founded upon a peculiarity in the posi
pathetic and groundless alarm . tion of our own.
Neither do we conceive it as sufficiently If, however, it be alleged that the dis
espressing or explaining the whole facts turbances there are only a reaction from
of the case , to say that the currency has the disturbances here, we must say that
been deranged. There has been unques- that point is not clear, and Brother
tionably a great derangement of the cur- Jonathan may be exaggerating his con
rency ; but this may have been an effect mercial importance. The ties of all the
rather than a cause of the more general maritime nations are growing more and
disturbance ; or, again, it may have been more intimate every year, and the
only one cause out of many causes . In trouble of one is getting to be more
an article in the first number of this mag- and more the trouble of the others in
azine, the financial fluctuations in this consequence ; but as yet any unsettled
country are ascribed to the alternate in- balance of American trade, compared
flation and collapse of ourfactitious paper- with the whole trade of those nations,
money . Adopting the prevalent theory, is but as the drop in the bucket. John
that the universal use of specie in the Bull, with a productive industry of five
regulation of the international trade of thousand millions of dollars a year, and
the world determines for each nation the Johnny Crapaud, with an industry only
amount of its metallic treasure, it was less, are not both to be thrown flat on
there argued that any redundant local their backs by the failure of a few mil
circulation of paper must raise the level lions of money remittances from Jona
of local prices above the legitimate specie than. The houses inmediately engaged
level, and so induce an excess of imports in the American trade will suffer, and
over exports ; which imports can be paid others again immediately dependent up
for only in specie,—the very basis of the on them ; but the disturbing shock , as it
inordinate local circulation. Of course, spreads through the widening circle of
then, there is a rapid contraction in the the national trade, will very soon be dis
issue of notes, and an inevitable and sipated and lost in its immensity. That
wide-spread rupture of the usual relations is, it will be lost, if trade there is itself
of trade. But although this view is true sound , and not tottering under the same
in principle, and particularly true in its or similar conditions of weakness which
application to the United States, where produced the original default in this
trade floats almost exclusively upon a country ; in which event, we submit, our
paper ocean, it is yet an elementary and troubles are to be considered as the mere
local view ;-local, as not comprising the accidental occasion of the more general
state of facts in England and France ; downfall,—while the real cause is to be
and elementary, inasmuch as it omits all sought in the internal state of the for
reference to the possibility of a great eign nations. Accordingly, let any one
fluctuation of prices being produced by read the late exposures of the methods
other means than an excess or deficiency in which business is transacted among
of money: * In France, as we know , the the Glasgow banks, the London discount
currency is almost entirely metallic, while houses, and the speculators of the French
England it is metallic so far as the Bourse, and he will see at a glance that
lesser exchanges of commerce are con- we Americans have no right to assume
cerned ; there is an obvious impropriety, and ought not to be charged with the
* A failure of one half the cotton or whent
entire responsibility of this stupendous
crop, wc suspect, would play a considerable syncope. Our bankruptcy has aggra
part ainong " the prices," whatever the state vated , as our restoration will relieve the
of the note circulation. general effects ; but the vicious currency
1858.] The Great Failure. 387

on this side the water, whatever domes- something which is also common to the
tic sins it may have to answer for, can- United States, England, and France.
not properly be made the scapegoat for Now the one thing common to all these
the offences of the other side of the nations, and to all commercial nations, is
water. The disasters abroad have oc- the universal use of Credit, in the trans
curred under conditions of currency dif- actions of business. We conceive, therc
fering in many respects from our own, fore, that the existing condition of things
and we believe that if there had been may be most correctly and comprehen- '
no troubles in America, there would sively described as a suspension of credit,
still have been considerable troubles in and the consequent pressure for payment
England and France, as, indeed, the of immense masses of outstanding debt.
financial writers of both these coun- This, we say, is the central fact, com
tries long ago predicted from the local mon to all the nations ; and the solution
signs. of it, as a problem , is to be sought in
The same train of remark may be some vice or disturbing element con
applied to those who impute the existing mon to the general system, and not in
embarrassments to our want of a pro any local incident or cause .
tective tariff; for, granting that to be Credit has gained so enormous an
an adequate explanation of our own diffi- extension within the last two centuries,
culties, it is not therefore an adequate that it may almost be pronounced the
explanation of those in Europe. The ex- distinctive feature of modern times. It
ternal characteristics of the phenomena existed, undoubtedly, in ancient days,
before us are everywhere pretty much for its correlative, Debt, existed ; and
the same, namely,-a prosperous trade we know, that, among the Jews, Moses
gradually slackening, an increasing de- enacted a sponging law , which was to
mand for money, depreciation and sacri- be carried into effect every fifty years ;
fice of securities, numerous failures, dis- that Solon, among the Greeks, began his
appcarance of gold, panic, and the com- administration with the Seisachtheia, or
plete stagnation of every branch of relief-laws, designed to rescue the poor
labor ; and it should seem that the cause borrowers from their overbearing credi
or causes to be assigned for them ought tors ; and that the usurers were a numer
also to be everywhere pretty much the ous class at Rome, where also the Patri
same. At any rate, no local cause is in cian houses were immense debtor -prisons.
itself to be regarded as sufficient, unless But in ancient times, when the chief
it can be shown that such local cause source of wealth (aside from conquest
has a universal operation . But who will and confiscation by the State) was the
undertake to contend that the absence labor of slaves, and the principal ex
of a protective system here is enough changes were effected cither by direct
to prostrate both Great Britain and barter or the coined metals, the system
France, —the nations which the same of credit could not have been very coni
theory supposes to have been chiefly plicated or general. As for the lending
benefited by such deficiency ? The of money on interest, it appears to have
scheme of free trade is often denounced been looked at askance by most of the
by its opponents as British free trade ; ancients ; and the prejudice against it
but we respectfully suggest that if its continued, under the fostering care of
operations lead to so serious a destruc- the Church, far down into the Middle
tion of British interests as is now Ages. With the emancipation of the
alleged, the phrase is at least a mis- towns, however, with the splendid devel
nomer . No ! as the characteristics of opment of the Italian republics, with the
the crisis are common to the United noble commercial triumphs of the cities
States, England, and France, so the of the Hansa, credit was recovered from
causes of that crisis are to be sought in the hands of the Jews, and began a
388 The Great Failure. [ February ,
career of rapid and beneficent expan- ply a fixed and equable money -measure;
sion. It was in an especial manner pro- and the majority of the governments
moted by the magnificent prospects un- have selected gold and silver as the best.
folded to colonial and mining enterprise As seemingly less changeable in quantity
in the discovery of the New World , by and value than anything else , as imper
the stimulus and the facilities afforded toishable, as portable, as divisible, as both
industrial skill by the researches of nat- convenient and safe, the precious metals
ural science, and by the emancipation challenge superiority over every other
won for all the activities of the human product ; and accordingly every contract
mind through the free principles of the and every debt is resolvable into gold
Reformation. Thus, by degrees, credit and silver. From this fact, the reader
came to intervene in nearly every op- will see at once the prodigious signifi
eration of commerce and of social ex- cance of those materials in the economy
- from the small daily dealings of trade, and the prime necessity that
change, —from
of the mechanic at the shop, to the larger they should be not only uniform in value,
wholesale transactions of merchant with but so equally distributed that they may
merchant, and to the prodigious expendi- be easily attainable when needed. Ev
tures and debts of imperial governments. ery change in their value is a virtual
Credit by note of hand, credit by book change in the value of the vast variety
account, credit by mortgages and hy- of obligations which are measured and
pothecations, credit by bills of exchange, liquidated by them ; and every appre
credit by certificates of stock, credit by hension of their scarcity or disappear
bank -notes and post-notes, credit by ex- ance , by whatever cause excited, is an
chequer and treasury drafts, credit, in apprehension of embarrassment on the
short, in a thousand ways, enters into part of all those who have debts to pay
trade, filling up all its channels, turning or to receive.
all its wheels, freighting all its ships, com-
But it happens that this standard is
ing down from the past, pervading the not an accurate standard . It does not
present, hovering over the future, reach- stand, while other things alone move, but
ing every nook and affecting every man moves itself; its value is changeable ,
and woman in the civilized world . fluctuating from time to time according
Such is the extent of credit ; but let it to the relation of supply and demand,
be remarked in connection , that, in all and from place to place according to the
these innumerable and multifarious forms perturbations of the trade of the world.
of it, in all the stupendous interchanges Moreover, its very preeminence of func
of Mine and Thine, the ultimate refer- tion—the universality and the durabil
ence is to one sole standard of value, ity of its worth - renders it peculiarly
which is the value of the precious met- sensitive to accidental influences, or to
als. The civilized world has adopted influences outside of the usual workings
these as the universal solvent of its vast of trade. A great war or revolution
masses of obligation. It is assumed that occurring anywhere, the loss by tem
some standard is indispensable ; it is pests or frosts of an important staple,
asserted to be the imperative duty of such as wheat or cotton , the fall and
governments, if they would not make reaction consequent upon some great
their exactions of taxes arbitrary, un- speculative excitement, are all likely to
equal, and oppressive,—if they would produce enormous drains or sequestra
render the dealings of individuals mu- tions of this valuable material. When
tual and just,-if they would preserve the revolt of 1848 broke out in Italy,
the property and labor of their subjects every particle of specie disappeared as
from the merciless caprices of the power- effectually as if it had been thrown into
ful, and keep society from reverting to the Adriatic or the mouth of Vesuvius ;
a more or less barbarous state , —to sup- when the corn crop failed in England
1858.] The Great Failure . 389

in 1846, the Bank of England lost ten judging by the past attempts, is Paper
millions of dollars in gold in less than Money. All the ingenuity and efforts
nine days, and the country five times of the most skilful trainers of the Old
that in about a month ; and in our own World , and of the most cunning jockeys
late experiences, with three hundred of the New, have been tasked in vain to
millions of gold among the people, we devise an effective discipline and curb
have seen it so put away, that no charm for this impatient colt. Paper Money
or bait could allure it from its hiding- either refuses to be ridden, and runs
places. rampant away, or, if any one succeed
Need we go any farther, then, than in mounting him for a time, he performs
these simple truths, to lay our finger on a journey like that which Don Quixote
the primal fact which underlies all finan- took on the back of the famous Cavalino,
cial embarrassments and panics ? The or Winged Horse. In imagination he
mass of the transactions in commerce ascended to the enchanted regions,—but
rests upon credit; the solvent of that in reality he was only dragged through
credit is gold ; and gold has not only alternate gusts of fire and of cold winds,
a sliding scale of value, but is apt to dis- to find the horse himself, in the end, a
appear when most wanted. While busi- mere depository of squibs and crackers.
ness is moving on in the ordinary way, Paper money has been issued , for the
it is more than ample for every purpose ; most part, on the one or the other of
but the moment any event arises, such two conditions, namely : as irredeemable,
as a rapidly falling market, inducing when it has been made to rest on the
hurried sales, or a drain of specie, dis- vague obligation of some government to
turbing the general confidence, every- pay it some time or other in property ;
body gets apprehensive, everybody calls or as convertible into gold and silver on
upon everybody for payment, and every- demand . But under both conditions it
body puts everybody off ,—till a feeling seems to have been impossible to pre
of sauve qui peut becomes universal. serve it from excess and consequent de
If there were no currency anywhere preciation. Nothing would appear to be
but a metallic currency , this liability to safer and sounder, on the face of it, than
sudden revulsions would still hang over a money -obligation backed by all the
trade, provided credit and paper tokens responsibility and property of a govern
of credit continued to be the media ment ; and yet we do not recall a single
of exchanges ; and the instinctive or instance in which an irredeemable gov
experimental perception of this truth , ernment-money has been issued , where it
combined with other motives, is what did not sooner or later swamp the gov
has led men to their various attempts to ernment beyond all hope of its redemp
provide a money substitute for gold and tion. No virtue of statesmanship is proof
silver. Lycurgus, in Sparta, found it, as against the temptation of creating money
he supposed, in stamped leather; but at will. Even where there bas been a
modern wisdom has preferred paper. nominal convertibility on demand of the
The degree of success attained by Ly- bills of government banks, they have
curgus we do not know ; but of the suc- worked badly in practice. In 1657, for
cess of the moderns we do know, by instance, the monarch of Sweden estab
some one hundred and fifty years of re- lished the Bank of Stockholm ; yet in a
curring disaster. There are some steeds little while its issues amounted to forty
that cannot be ridden ; they are so frac- eight millions of roubles, and their de
tious and intractable, that, put whom you preciation to ninety -six per cent. In
will upon their back, he is thrown, and 1736, Denmark created the Bank of Ca
invent what snaffle or breaking-bit you penhagen ; but within nine years from
may, they will not be held to an equable its foundation it suspended redemptions
or inolerate pace. And of this sort, altogether, and its notes were depreciated
390 The Great Failure. [ February,
forty -six per cent. We need not refer burst, the distress was universal, heart
to the extraordinary issues of French rending, and frightful. With millions in
assignats, or of American continental their pockets, says a contemporary me
money ,—nor to the deluges of paper moir, many did not know where to get
which have fallen upon Russia and Aus- a dinner ; complaints and imprecations
tria. During all these experiments, the resounded on every side ; some, utterly
sufferings of the people, according to the ruined, killed themselves in despair ; and
different historians, were absolutely ap- mysterious rumors of popular risings
palling. One of these experiments of spread throughout Paris the terror of
paper money, however, begun under the another expected St. Bartholomew .
most promising auspices, and on a pro- In this case the phenomena were the
fessed basis of convertibility, was yet so more striking because they were gathered
stupendous and awful in its effects, that within aa short compass of time, and took
it has taken its place as a Pharos in His- place among a people proverbial for the
tory , and is never to be forgotten. We versatility and extravagance of their im
refer, of course, to the banking prodigali- pressions. The French are an excitable
ties of the Regency of France, under- race , who carry whatever they do or suf
taken in connection with the scheme fer to the last extreme of theatrical ef
known as Law's Mississippi Bubble,- fect; and for that reason it might be sup
although the Bank and the Bubble were posed that the tremendous revulsions we
not essentially connected. We presume bave alluded to were owing in part to
that our readers are acquainted with the national temperament. But similar ef
incidents, because all the modern his- fects have been wrought, by similar
torians have described them , and be- causcs, among the slower and cooler
cause the more philosophical impute to English, with whom commercial disturb
them an active agency in the origina- ances have been as numerous and as dis
tion of that moral corruption and lack astrous as among the French, only that
of political principle which hastened the they have been distributed over wider
advent of the great Revolution. Louis spaces of time, and controlled by the
XIV. having left behind him , as the price more sluggish and conservative habits of
of his glory, a debt of about a thousand the nation. Some twenty years before
millions of dollars, the French ministry, Law made his approaches to the French
with a view to reduce it, ordered a re- Regent, another Scotchman, William
coinage of the louis-d'or. An edict was Patterson , had got the car of Macau
promulgated, calling in the coin at sixteen lay's hero, William , and of his minis
livres, to be issued again at twenty ; but ters, and laid the foundations of the
Law, an acute and enterprising Scotch- great Bank of England. It was char
man , suggested that the end might be tered in 1694 , on advances made to the
more happily accomplished by a project government ; and gradually, under its
for a bank , which he carried in his auspices, the vast system of English
pocket. He proposed to buy up the old banking, which gives tone to that of the
coin at a higher rate than the mint als world, grew up. Let us sce with what
lowed, and to pay for it in bank -notes. results ; they may be expressed in a
This project was so successful that the few words: every ten or fifteen years, a
Regent took it into his own hands, and terrific commercial overturn, with inter
then began an issue of bills which liter- mcdiate epochs of speculation, panic,
ally intoxicated the whole of France. and bankruptcy.
No scenes of stock -jobbing, of gambling, We cannot here go into a history of
of frenzied speculation, of reckless ex- this bank, nor of the various causes of
citement and licentiousness ever sur its reverses ; but we select from a brief
passed the scenes daily enacted in the chronological table, in its own words,
Rue Quincampoix ; and when the bubble some of the principal events, which arc
1858.] The Great Failure. 391

also the events of British trade and of specie payments in 1823, -- after a sus
finance. pension of twenty -seven years.
1694. The Bank went into operation. 1822. Great commercial depression
1696. Bank suspended specie pay- throughout Europe,-agricultural distress,
ments. Panic and failures. -famine in Ireland.
1707. Threatened invasion of the 1824. Speculations in scrips and
Pretender. Run upon the Bank ,-panic. shares of foreign loans and new compa
Government helped it through, by guar- pies, to a fabulous amount.
antying its bills at six per cent. 1825. Recoil of the speculations,
1714. The Pretender proclaimed in run upon the banks, - seventy banks
Scotland . Run upon the Bank , -panic. stop ,-a drain of gold exhausts the bul
1718–20. Time of the South -Sea Bub- lion of the Bank.
ble. Reaction , -demand for money , 1826. Depression of trade, -govern
Bank of England nearly swept away,- ment advances Exchequer bills to the
trade suspended,-nation involved in Bank.
suffering. 1832. A run for gold ,—bullion in the
1744. Charles Edward sails for Scot- Bank again alarmingly reduced .
land, and marches upon Derby. Panic . 1834-7. Jackson vs. Biddle in Ameri
Run upon the Bank,—is obliged to pay ca produces considerable derangements
in sixpences, and to block its doors, in in England ,—drain of gold ,—great al
order to gain time. ternate contractions and expansions,
1772. Extensive failures and a mon- severe mercantile distress.
etary panic. The Bank maintains the 1844. Renewal of the Bank Charter,
convertibility of its notes for several limiting its issues,-great speculations in
years, at an annual expense of £850,000. railroad shares, to the amount of £ 500,
1793. War with France ,-drain of 000,000.
gold ,–Bank contracts ,-panic,-failures 1845. Recoil of the speculations
throughout the country ,-universal hoard- immense sacrifice of property.
ing, -one hundred country banks stop, 1846. Drain of gold ,--large importa
notes as low as five pounds first issued, tions of corn ,-alarm .
-general fall of prices. 1847. Drain of gold continues,-panic
1796. An Order in Council suspends and universal mercantile depression,
specie payment by the Bank. Bank refuses discounts ,-forced sales of
1799. Numerous failures, -chiefly on all kinds of property ,—the Bank Charter
the Continent. The pressure in Eng- suspended .
land relieved by an issue of Exchequer 1857. The experiences of 1847 re
bills. peated on a more injurious scale, with
1807–9. Great speculations in flax, another suspension of the Bank Charter
hemp, silk , wool, etc. Act.
1810. Recoil of speculation,-exten- Now this record does not show a bril
sive failures, and great demand for mon . liant success in banking ; it does not en
ey. courage the hopes of those who place
1811. Parliament adopts a resolution great hopes in a national institution ; for
declaring a one-pound note and a shilling the Bank of England is the highest re
legal tender for a guinea. sult of the financial sagacity and politi
1814–16. Heavy losses and bankrupt cal wisdom of the first commercial nation
cics, — failure of two hundred and forty of the globe. A recognized ally of the
country banks, - the distress and suffer-
-
government,—at the very centre of the
ing of the people compared to that in world's trade, -enjoying a large freedom
France after the bursting of the Missis- of movement within its sphere, -conduct
sippi Scheme. ed by the most eminent merchants of the
1819. Law passed for the resumption metropolis, assisted by the advice of the
392 The Great Failure, [ February
most accomplished political economists , - bial for its winged uncertainty, we might
sanctioned and amended, from time to regard thein as a seeming admonition
time, by the greatest ministers, from Wal- of Providence against putting too much
pole to Peel,—it has had , from its posi- trust in riches; but they are to be con
tion, its power, and the talent at its com- sidered as something infinitely worse
mand, every opportunity for doing the than mere reverses of fortune : the disor
best things that a bank could do ; and ders they generate shake the very foun
yet behold this record of perio :lical iin- dations of morals ; and while shattering
potence ! Its periodical mischiefs we the industry, they undermine the econ
leave out of the account. omy and frugality and rend the integ
In the United States, we have suffered rity of mankind . We doubt whether
from similarly recurring attacks of finan- any of the great forms of evil incident
cial epilepsy ; we have tried every ex- to our imperfect civilization—the slave
pedient, and we have failed in each one ; trade, debauchery, pauperism — cause
we have had three national banks ; we more individual anguish or more public
have had thousands of chartered banks, detriment than these incessant revolu
under an infinity of regulations and re tions in the value and tenure of property .
strictions against excesses and frauds ; Those afflict limited classes alonc, but
and we have had , as the appropriate com- these every class ; they relax and per
mentary, three tremendous cataclysms, vert the whole moral regimen of society ;
in which the whole continent was sub- and if, as it is sometimes alleged, the
merged in commercial ruin, besides a present age is more profoundly steeped
dozen lesser epochs of trying vicissitude. in materialism than any before, —if its
The history of our trade has been that of enterprise is not simply more bold, but
an incessant round of inflations and col- more reckless and prodigal,—if the moni
-

lapses ; and the amount of rascality and tions of conscience have lost their force
fraud perpetrated in connection with the in practical affairs, and the dictates of
banks, in order to defeat the restrictions religion and honor alike their sanctity,
upon them , has no parallel but in the it is because of the uncertain principle,
sponging-houses. A Belgian philosopher, the gambling spirit, the feverish eager
from the study of statistics, has deduced ness, and the insane extravagance, which
a certain order in disorder, —or a law of beset the ways of traffic. Living in a
periodicity in the recurrence of murders, world in which days of golden and delusive
suicides, crimes, and illegitimate births ; dreams are rapidly succeeded by nights
and it appears that a similar regularity of monstrous nightmares and miseries,
of irregularity might be easily detected society loses its grasp upon the realities of
in our cyclic bank explosions. life, and goes staggering blindly on to
With the sad experiences of other na- wards aa fatal degeneracy and dissolution.
tions before us, with the rocks of dan- The question, then , is, whether this
ger standing high out of the water, and melancholy march of things should be al
covered all over with the fragments of for- lowed to proceed, or whether we should
mer wrecks, we have yet persisted in fol- strive to do better. Our good sense,
lowing the old wretched way. What a our moral sense, our progressive instincts,
humiliating confession ! what a comment conspire with our interests in proclaim
on the alleged practical discernment of ing that we ought to do better ; but how
66
this practical people ! what a text for shall we do better ? Why,” reply the
radicals, socialists, and all sorts of Uto- great Democratic doctors ,—Mr. Buchan
pian dreamers ! If the mischiefs of these an , the President, and Mr. Benton , the
monetary aberrations were confined to Nestor of the people, — " suppress the is
a mere loss of wealth, * which is prover direct losses by paper money, within the last
* Yet this is not to be lightly estimated. century and a half, have equalled $ 2,000,000 ,
Seaman , in his Progress of Nations, says the 000 .
1858.) The Great Failure. 393

sue of small bank -notes ! ” Well, that nos- than twenty pounds, or nearly a hundred
trum is not to be despised ; there would dollars.
be some advantages in such a measure ; More recent revulsions are still more
it would, to a certain extent, operate as to the point. In 1825 , in England, there
a check upon the issues of the banks; it were enormous speculations in joint-stock
would enlarge the specie basis, by confin- enterprises and foreign loans. Some five
ing the note circulation to the larger hundred and thirty -two new companies
dealers, and so exempt the poorer and were formed, with a nominal capital of
laboring classes from the chances of bank about $ 2,200,000,000, and Greek , Aus
failures and suspensions. But if these trian, and South American loans were
gentlemen suppose that the extrusion of negotiated, to the extent of $275,000,000.
small notes would be in any degree a Scarcely one of these companies or of
remedy for overtrading, or moderate in these loans ever paid a dividend ; and
any degree the disastrous fluctuations of the consequence was a general destruc
which everybody complains, they have tion of credit and property, and a de
read the bistory of commerce only in the gree of distress which was compared to
most superficial manner. Speculations, the terrible sufferings inflicted by the
overtrading, panics, money convulsions, Mississippi and the South - Sea Bubbles.
occur in countries where small notes are Yet there were no bank -notes in circu
not tolerated, just as they do in countries lation in England under five pounds, or
where they are ; and they occur in both twenty-five dollars. Again, our readers
without our being able to trace them al- may recall the monstrous overtrading
ways to the state of the currency. The in railroad shares in the years 1845–6.
truth is, indeed, that nearly all the Projects involving the investment of
great catastrophes of trade have occurred £ 500,000,000 were set on foot in a very
in times and places when and where little while ; the contagion of purchasing
there were no small notes. Every one spread to all the provincial towns ; the
has heard of the tulip -mania of Holland, traditionally staid and sober Englishman
—when the Dutchmen , nobles, farmers, got as mad as a March bare about
mechanics, sailors, maid -servants, and them ; Mr. Murdle reigned triumphant;
even chimney -sweeps and old -clothes- and, in the end, the nation had to pay
women, dabbled in bulbs,—when immense for its delirium with another season of .
fortunes were staked upon the growth of panic, misery, and ruin . Yet during all
a root, and the whole nation went mad this excitement there were not only no
about it, although there was never a small notes in circulation , but, what is
bank nor a paper florin yet in exist- most remarkable, there was no unusual
ence . * Every one has heard of the increase in the issues of the banks, of
grcat South -Sca Bubble in England, in any kind .
1719, when the stock of a company Let us not hope too much, therefore,
chartered simply to trade in the South from the suppression of small notes,
Seas rose in the course of a few weeks should that scheme be carried into ef
to the extraordinary height of eight hun- fect; let us not delude ourselves with the
dred and ninety per cent., and filled all expectation that it will prove a satisfac
England with an epidemic frenzy of gam- tory remedy, in any sense, for the period
bling, so that the recoil ruined thousands ical disease of the currency ; for its
upon thousands of persons, who dragged benefits, though probable, must be lim
down with them vast companies and in ited . * It is a remedy which merely
stitutions. Yet there was not a bank- plays round the extremities of the disor
note in England, at that time, for less * It is very curious, that, while our leaders
* Mackay's History of Popular Delusions. are in favor of exorcising small notes, many
† Doubleday's Financial History of Eng- of the French and English Liberals are calling
land, p. 93. for an issue of them !
394 The Great Failure. [ February,
der, without invading the seat of it at ernments adhere to their task of supply
all. ing a pure standard of the precious
We have endeavored, in the foregoing metals, and of exacting it in the dis
remarks, to point out ( for our limits do charge of what is due to them, if they
not allow us to expound) two things: please ; but let them leave to the good
first, that in the universal modern use sense , the sagacity, and the self-interest
of credit as the medium of exchanges of Commerce, under the guardianship of
—which credit refers to a standard in just and equal laws, the task of using
itself fluctuating,—there is a liability to and regulating its own tokens of credit.
certain critical derangements, when the Our past experiments in the way of pro
machinery will be thrown out of gear, viding an artificial currency are flagrant
if we may so speak, or when credit will and undeniable failures; but as it is still
dissolve in a vain longing for cash ; and possible to deduce from them , as we be
second, that in the paper -money substi- lieve, ample proof of the principle, that
tutcs which men have devised as a pro- the security, the economy, and the regu
vision against the consequences of this larity of the circulation have improved
liability, they have enormously aggra- just in the degree in which the entire
vated , instead of counteracting or allevi- money business has been opened to
ating the danger. But if these views be the healthful influences of unobstructed
correct, the questions to be determined by trade, so we infer that a still larger
society are also two, namely : whether it liberty would insure a still more whole
be possible to get rid of these aggrava- some action of the system . The cur
tions; and whether credit itself may not rency is rightly named the circulation,
be so organized as to be self-sufficient and, like the great movements of blood
and self-supporting, whatever the va- in the human body, depends upon a
garies of the standard. The suppres
free inspiration of the air.
sion of small notes might have a per- Under a larger freedom , we should
ceptible effect in lessening the aggrava- expect Credit to be organized on a ba
tions of paper, but it would not touch sis of MUTUAL RESPONSIBILITY AND
the more fundamental point, as to a GUARANTY, which would afford a sta
stable organization of credit. Yet it is ble and beautiful support to the great
in this direction, we are persuaded, that systolic and disastolic movements of
all reformatory efforts must turn. Credit trade ; that it would reduce all paper
is the new principle of trade,—the nexus cmissions to their legitimate character
of modern society ; but it has scarcely as mere mercantile tokens, and liber
yet been properly considered. While it ate humanity from the fearful debauch
has been shamefully exploited, as the cries of a factitious money ; and that
French say, it has never been scientific Commerce, which has been compelled
cally constituted. hitherto to sit in the markets of the
Neither will it be, under the influence world, like a courtesan at the gaming
of the old methods,-not until legislators table, with hot eye and panting chest
and politicians give over the business of and painted cheeks, would be regener
tampering with the currency,—till they ated and improved, until it should be
give over the vain hope of “ hedging the come, what it was meant to be, a benefi
cuckoo," to use Locke's figure,-and the cent goddess, pouring out to all the
principle of FREEDOM be allowed to nations from her horns of plenty the
adjust this, as it has already adjusted grateful harvests of the earth.
equally important matters. Let the gov
1858.] The Busts of Goethe and Schiller. 395

THE BUSTS OF GOETHE AND SCHILLER .

This is GOETHE, with a forehead

Like the fabled front of Jove ;
In its massive lines the tokens
Dlore of majesty than love.
This is SCHILLER, in whose features,
With their passionate calm regard,
We behold the true ideal
Of the high heroic Bard,
Whom the inward world of feeling
And the outward world of sense
To the endless labor summon ,
And the endless recompense .

These are they, sublime and silent,

From whose living lips have rung
Words to be remembered ever
In the noble German tongue ;

Thoughts whose inspiration , kindling

Into loftiest speech or song,
Still through all the listening ages
Pours its torrent swift and strong.

As to-day in sculptured marble

Side by side the Poets stand,
So they stood in life's great struggle,
Side by side and hand to hand ,
In the ancient German city,
Dowered with many a deathless name,
Where they dwelt and toiled together,
Sharing each the other's fame :

One till evening's lengthening shadows

Gently stilled his faltering lips,
But the other's sun at noonday
Shrouded in a swift eclipse.
There their names are household treasures,
And the simplest child you meet
Guides you where the house of Goethe
Fronts upon the quiet street;
396 The Busts of Goethe and Schiller. [ February,
And, hard by, the modest mansion
Where full many a heart has felt
Memorics uncounted clustering
Round the words, “ Here Schiller dwelt. "

In the churchyard both are buried,

Straight beyond the narrow gate,
In the mausoleum sleeping
With Duke Charles in sculptured state .

For the Monarch loved the Poets,

Called them to him from afar,
Wooed them near his court to linger,
And the planets sought the star.

He, his larger gifts of fortune

With their larger fame to blend,
Living, counted it an honor
That they named him as their friend ;
Dreading to be all -forgotten,
Still their greatness to divide,
Dying, prayed to have his Poets
Buried one on either side.

But this suited not the gold -laced

Ushers of the royal tomb,
Where the princely House of Weimar
Slumbered in majestic gloom .

So they ranged the coffins justly,

Each with fitting rank and stamp,
And with shows of court precedence
Mocked the grave's sepulchral damp.

Fitly now the clownish sexton

Narrow courtier- rules rebukes ;
First he shows the grave of Goethe,
Schiller's next, and last — the Duke's.

Vainly 'midst these truthful shadows

Pride would flaunt her painted wing ;
Here the Monarch waits in silence,
And the Poet is the King !
1858.] The Librarian's Story . 397

THE LIBRARIAN'S STORY.

LIBRARIANS arc a singular class of works its only possible remedy, by result
men , or rather, a class of singular men. ing in its extinction. There is, in some
I choose the latter phrase, because I think sense, an absolute unity amongst the
that the singularities do not arise from successive generations of those of one
the employment, but characterize the blood ; at least, so much so that our
men who are most likely to gravitatc to- feeling of poctical justice is rather grati
ward it. A great philosopher, whom no fied than otherwise when the crimes of
body knows, once stated the Problem of one are avenged, it may be a century
Humanity thus : “ There are two kinds after, upon the person of another of
of people,-round people, and three- the name. This was the truth which
oornered people ; and two kinds of holes, underlay the vast gloomy fables of the
-round holes, and three-cornered holes. ancient Fates, and the stories of the
All mysterious providences, misfortunes, inevitable destruction of the great an
dispensations, evils, and wrong things cient houses of Greece. It is the same
generally, arc attributable to this cause, which the Indian feels · when he re
namely, that round people get into three- venges upon one of the white race
cornered holes, and three-cornered peo- the wrongs inflicted by another. Suc
ple get into round holes. ” The librarian cession in time does not interfere with
is not only a threc-cornered person, but the stern promise of Jehovah to visit
& many -cornered one, -a human polyhc- the sins of the fathers upon the chil
dron. And he is in his right place,-a dren. — The reader will see presently
many -cornered man in a many-cornered how I have been led into this train of
hole ; especially if the hole be like that reflection.
which I am thinking of, - an Historical My predecessor in office had a strong
Library fancy for Numismatology. I have, too ;
The only bibliothecarian peculiarity nobody would more enjoy a vast collec
in point at present is, a gift to root up, tion of coins ; but, oddly enough, I
(country boys, speaking of pigs, say rvo- should prefer contemporary ones. Hc
was simple and almost penurious in per
lle; it is more onomatopeian ,) to rootle
up the most obscure and useless pieces sonal expenditure ; yet, besides a great
of information ; not, like Mr. Nadgett, collection of books, he had, from his
to work them into a chain of connected scanty income, got together, in the course
evidence for some actual purpose, but of a long life, a large and very valuable
merely to know them, to possess a record collection of coins and medals, especially
of them , either as found in some printed rich in gold. These coins lay — they do
or manuscript document, or as recorded not now, for I assure you I keep them
by the librarian himself; and to keep pretty carefully out of sight latterly ,
the record pickled away in some place luxuriously imbedded in a neat case ,
where it will be as little likely as pos- among the great collection of antique
sible to be found or read by anybody objects, weapons, ornaments, furniture,
else. clothing, etc., which usually accumulate
So much concerning Librarians ; a within the precincts of an Historical So
word now about Character. ciety's Library
Bad blood is hereditary. I don't mean In the one under my charge there is
scrofulous, but wicked blood . Vicious an astonishing number of them ; and
tendencies pass down in a family, ap naturally, where the long series of the
pearing in the most various manifesta- ancient Indian wars, and later ones with
tions, until at last the evil of the race civilized foes, form together so strong a
398 The Librarian's Story. [ February,
strand in the thread of our history, there by the date, February 29, 165} ; for
is a very great number proportionally this day, by its numeral, would be in
of warlike weapons. leap -year, according to old style, but not
I like to read old books, both er officio according to new. How did they settle
and er naturâ. But I need not enlarge it ? I asked ; and what was to determine
upon this liking. For my part, however, for lovelorn maidens, whether they might
they please me most when I am wholly or might not use the privilege of the
alone, in that deep silence which by lis- year ?
tening you can seem to hear, and in a I returned to my desk , and sat down
place well furnished ,-especially in such to read ; and, as I remember, the heavy
a place as the Historical Library is, with bell of the First Church, close by, just
many full bookshelves, and a great mul- then struck eleven, and I listened with
titude of ancient portraits, grim curiosi- pleasure to the long, mellow cadence of
tics, and weapons of war. the reverberations after each deliberate
It may be unfortunate to be sensitive, and solid stroke.
but I am . The few things that do ex- Beginning at the beginning, I read
cite me excite me easily, and by virtue until past midnight. The contents, after
of the trooping together and thronging all, were not remarkable. It was a col
on of the procession of my own imagi- lection of copies of papers relating to
nations, thus awakened, I am prone to various matters of accounts and law, all
reveries of the most various complexion. pertaining to a certain Beardsley family,
In one of the secret repositories where of high and ancient fame in the Colony,
during his latter years my venerable pre-and afterwards in the State. Somewhat
decessor used with senile cunning to beyond the middle, however, I lighted
hide, indiscriminately, the coins of the upon a document which attracted my
Romans and of the Yankees, rags, bot- more particular attention. It was a tran
tles of rhubarb and magnesia, books, script from the State Records, and, as
papers, and buttons, I had found, one the date showed, from a very early vol
night, an ancient MS. I had been all the une of them , now missing from the
evening reading a High -German Middle- office of the Secretary of State . It
Age volume, illustrated with rooil-cuts, immediately occurred to me that this
cut as with aa hatchet, and being, as per volume was strongly suspected to have
title-page, Julius der erste Römische kay been purloined by one Isaac Beardsley,
ser, von seinen kriegen , " Julius the first an unscrupulous man , of some influence,
Roman Emperor, of his Wars." who used , for amusement, to potter about
Buried in the extraordinary adventures in various antiquarian enterprises of no
of the Kayser, not to be found in any moment, but who had now been dead
Roman historian, and full of quaint and for some fifteen years. I then also rec
ludicrous jumbles of the ancient and the ollected that he had an only child, a
modern, I was suddenly stopped by find- graceless gallows-bird of a son , who
ing that the last folios were missing. broke his father's heart, then wasted his
After a moment of ineffectual vexa- substance in riotous living, and, after
tion , I bethought me of several reposito- being long a disgrace and nuisance at
ries in which I had scen portions of home, had sunk out of sight amid the
débris, - leaves, covers, brazen bosses, lowest strata of vice and crime in New
and other membra disjecta ; in one of York .
these I might very probably find the The document was a complaint to the
missing pages. “ Generall Court ” against " Goodman Jo
I fumbled through half a dozen ; did ab Brice " —the complainant being desig
not find what I sought, but did find the nated by the honorable prefix of “Mr. ”
aforesaid MS. I was interested at once “ for y ' hee, the so Goodman Brice, had
by the close but clear penmanship, and sayd in ye hearing of ” various persons
1858. ] The Librarian's Story. 399

mentioned, “ and to the verry face of ye sa brance more definite than an impression
Mr. Isaac Beardslie, y' ye sa Dr. Beards- that this memorial was something which
lie did grind ye faces of the poor, and had belonged to a descendant of Joab
had served hiin , the sa Brice, worse than Brice, who had been in his youth a sol
anic Turk vru serve his slaves ; and this dier in the old French War, and later a
with fearfull and blasphemous curses, and subaltern in the “ Statc line ” during the
prayres that God would return ovill upon Revolution .
the heads of this complaynant and his The Library room , in which I was read
children aficr him ,” etc. ing, is a large, lofty ball, fitted with dark
The transcript was long, alleging vari- bookcases, heavy and huge as if for
ous similar offences. Its perusal recalled giants, singularly perfect in point of in
to my mind several hints and obscure convenience and inaccessibility, and good
allusions, and one or two brief histories only in that they bore a certain archi
of the proceedings in this case , which tectural proportion to the great height
may be found in ancient books relating and expanse of the dark room . My
to the Colony. These proceedings be- desk was so placed that my back was to
tween Beardsley and Brice were famous ward the entrance , which was the balus
in their day, and were thought little traded opening, in the Library floor, of a
creditable to the head of the Beardsley wide staircase ; and close at my side and
family. That he himself partook of the before me were racks with muskets and
general opinion is shown by the cir- spears, cases of curiosities, and other ap
cumstance that the matter was diligently · purtenances of the room . It being now
hushed up in that day ; and those most past the middle of the night, when sleep
familiar with the ancient records of the is heaviest, the stillness was perfect. My
State averred, that upon the pages of two shaded lamps made a small sphere
the missing volume was spread matter of dusky yellow light, which I felt to be
amply sufficient to account for its theft surrounded and, as it were , compressed
and destruction by the late Col. Isaac by the thick darkness, wbich I could
Beardsley. easily fancy to be something tangible and
The details of this ancient quarrel heavy, settling noiselessly down from be
have perished out of remembrance . The neath the lofty arches of the roof. The
chief substance of it was, however, a ancient penmanship and curious contents
lawsuit which ended in the rich man's of the faded pages before me carried my
obtaining possession of the poor man's thoughts backward into the old Colonial
land. Brice, a yeoman of vindictive, ob- times, with their rigid social distinctions,
stinate, and fearless character, had in- lofty manners, and ill-concealed supersti
sulted his opponent, who was a magistrate, tion ; and I mused upon grim old magis
had threatened his life, and otherwise so trates, wizened witches, stately dames,
bore himself that his oppressor procured rugged Indian- fighters, and all their
him to be whipped at the cart's tail, and strange doings and sayings in the ancient
to be held to give large sureties for the days, until, between drowsiness and im
peace, with the alternative penalty of ban- agining, I fell into a tangled labyrinth of
ishment. The bitter vehemence of Brice's romance, history, and reveric.
curses was remarkable even among the Then all at once I seemed half to
dry phrases of the complaint; and tra- awake, and fell into one of those fits of
dition relates that his fearful imprecations foolish nervous apprehension to which
even caused his dignified opponent, the many cren of the coolest and bravest are
magistrate, to turn pale and tremble. liable in deep solitude and darkness, –
I was sure , too, that among the stores and if they, how much more an excitable
of the Library I had seen some memorial person like myself! My heart throbbed
of Brice as well as of Beardsley ; but for no reason , and, sitting with my head
could not at the time call up any remem- bowed down upon my hands, I fancied
400 The Librarian's Story. [ February ,
the most impossible dangers,—of men old chest that came over in the May
taking aim at me with the antique fire- flower, which saved him from a fall.
arms out of the far dark corners, or At one and the same moment, both
casting heavy weights upon me through the thieves drew knives and made at me
the skylight overbead. How easily, I together, and I, springing backwards,
fancied, could it happen - Did not the seized from the wooden rack of weapons
cellar- door open just now ? the first which my hand reached. I
I half aroše, almost frightened. I be- was a musket. Instinctivels, for there
lieve I should have taken an old rapier was no time to reason, I cooked, present
and a light and gone to look , but for ed in a sort of charge -bayonet attitude,
very shame. And besides, there were the only one possible, and pulleil trigger.
two thick floors between me and the The old weapon went off with a deafen
door, and that itself was set in the heavy ing report, sending out a blinding sheet
wall between the cellar of this wing of of flame in the darkness. One thiet fell
the building and that under its main headlong at my very feet ; the other,
body ; so that if it had been opened, I turning, fled blindly towards the stair
could not have heard it. Accordingly I case. I ought to have caught him ; buty
resumed my posture and my painful in- in the unreflecting anger of the moment,
tense musing. But now I could have coming up with him at the stair-head, I
almost sworn that I heard soft steps com- struck at him with such good will and
ing up the staircase, and whispers floating good effect, that he fell down stairs faster
upon the air of the great solitary room : than I cared to chase him in the dark .
-Idid ! Scrambling up at the bottom , he hurried
But not soon enough. At the sound out by the way he had come, and Aed ;
of a distinct, heavy footstep behinıl me, while I returned to my prisoner.
I sprang up and turned about, but only He was quite dead. The charge, a
to find myself pinioned by one of the bullet, had passed in just above the re
arms of a rough-looking, vicious- faced gion of the beart, killing him instantly.
man, who pressed his other hand tightly I searched him, but found only a knife,
over my mouth . A confederate was a little money, and some tobacco ; noth
busy at the case of coins. ing which could identify him . He was
Although only a librarian, I have in well-made, middle-aged , and of a thor
my day been something of an athlete ; oughly vile and repulsive countenance.
much more than the person who had The necessary legal formalities were
rushed into so sudilen an intimacy reck- gone through as quickly and quietly as
oned upon . And I was pretty well possible, and the entrances by which the
strung up, too, with my nonsensical fan- burglars had come in well secured.
cies. They had evidently reconnoitred within
Being face to face with me, thercfore, and without the building during the day,
my assailant had mastered my right arm , and selected a back way into the cellar,
and was clasping my back with his left through which they found no trouble in
hand, while his right was over my mouth . ascending to the Library.
So driving back my left elbow, I struck Some days afterwards, I bethought me
him a sharp and cruel blow in the right to examine the old musket. It was a
side, just above the hip -bone. It is aa bad heavy, old -fashioned “ queen's arm ,” with
place to strike ; I would not hit there, no unusual marks, as I thought ; but
unless unfairly attacked. Tl.e sudden upon a silver plate, let into the hollow of
pain jerked a groan out of him, and sur- the butt, I found, coarsely and strongly
prised him into slackening his hold ; so engraved , “ JOAB BRYCE, 1765."
that I wrenched myselt loose, and gave Upon mentioning this circumstance to
him a straight, heavy, right-hand hit our Recording Secretary, and wondering
the nose, sending him reeling against the how the gun came to be loaded, he told
1858.] Daylight and Moonlight.
me that the fault was his. The wcapon,
he said , had been deposited in the Library
by a son of the old revolutionary soldier ;
and he added , that this son had informed
him that the old man, who seems to have
inherited something of the peculiar trails
of his ancient race , having had this
charge in his gun at the conclusion of
the siege of Yorktown, where he was
present with a New England regiment,
had managed afterwards to avoid dis-
charging or drawing it, and had left
it by will to his eldest son to be kept
loaded as it was ; with the strange
clause, that the charge “ might sarve
out a Beardsley, if it couldn't a Brit
isher . ”
The depositor, the Secretary further to be the notorious cracksman , · Bill
told me, had religiously kept the old gun,
and, with a curious, siinple strictness of
401
adherence to the spirit of his father's
directions, had oiled the lock , picked the
flint, wired the touch -hole, and put in
fresh priming, when he brought the
weapon to the Library.
“ I meant to have unloaded it, of
course,” pursued the excellent Secretary,
“ but it passed out of my mind .”
A week or two afterwards, I found in
one of those obscure columns of “ minion
solid ," in which the great New York
papers embalm the memory of their cur
rent metropolitan crime, the following
notice :
“ We are informed that the burglar
lately killed in an attempt to rob the
Historical Library has been found
Young ' ; but that his real name was
Isaac Beardsley . "

DAYLIGHT AND MOONLIGHT.

In broad daylight, and at noon ,
Yesterday I saw the moon
Sailing high, but faint and white,
As a school-boy's paper kite.
In broad daylight, yesterday,
I read a poet's mystic lay;
And it seemed to me at most
As a phantom , or a ghost.
But at length the feverish day
Like a passion died away,
And the night, serene and still,
Fell on village, vale, and bill.
Then the moon , in all her pride,
Like a spirit glorified ,
Filled and overflowed the night
With revelations of her light.

And the poet's song again

Passed like music through my brain ;
Night interpreted to me
All its grace and mystery.
VOL. I. 26
402 Something about Pictures. [ February,

SOMETHING ABOUT PICTURES.

It is not surprising that pictures, with out one foot at least in the trough - was
all their attraction for eye and mind, a strict inference from personal knowl
are, to many bonest and intelligent peo edge of the habits of the animal; so the
ple, too much of a riddle to be altogether surgeon found a head of the Baptist
pleasant. What with the oracular dicta untrue, because the skin was not with
of self -constituted arbiters of taste, the drawn somewhat from the line of decolla
discrepancies of popular writers on Art, tion . These and similar instances show
the jargon of connoisseurship, the vaga- that some knowledge of or interest in
ries of fashion, the endless theories about the thing represented is essential to the
color, style, chiaro 'scuro, composition, appreciation of pictures. Sailors and
design, imitation, nature, schools, etc. , their wives crowded around Wilkie's
painting has become rather a subject for “ Chelsea Pensioners,” when first exhib
the gratification of vanity and the exer- ited ; French soldiers enjoy the minutiæ
cise of pedantic dogmatism , than a gen- of Vernet's battle-pieces ; a lover can
uine source of enjoyment and culture, judge of his betrothed's miniature ; and
of sympathy and satisfaction, like mu- the most unrefined sportsman will point
sic, literature, scenery , and other recog- out the niceties of breed in one of Land
nized intellectual recreations. In these seer's dogs. To the want of correspond
latter spheres it is not thought presump- ence so frequent between the subject of
tuous to assert and enjoy individual a picture and the observer's experience
taste ; the least independent talkers will may, therefore, be attributed no small
bravely advocate their favorite composer, degree of the prevalent want of sym
describe the landscape which has charm- pathy and confident judgment. “Gang
ed or the book which has interested into an Exhibition,” says the Ettrick
them ; but when a picture is the subject Shepherd, “ and only look at a crowd o'
of discussion , few have the moral cour- co«kneys, some with specs, and some wi'
age to say what they think ; there is a quizzing-glasses, and faces without ae
self-distrust of one's own iinpressions and grain o' meaning in them o' ony kind
even convictions in regard to what is whatsomever, a' glowering, perhaps, at a
represented on canvas, that never inter picture o' ane o' Nature's maist fearfu ' or
venes between thought and expression, magnificent warks ! What, I ask, could
where ideas or sentiments are embodied a Prince's- Street maister or missy ken o'
in writing or in melody. Nor is this to sic a wark mair than a red deer wad ken
be ascribed wholly to the technicalities o'the inside o' George's Street Assembly
of pictorial art, in which so few are Rooms ?”
deeply versed , but in a great measure The incidental associations of pictures
to the incongruous and irrelevant associ- link them to history, tradition , and hu
ations which have gradually overlaid and man character, in a manner which in
mystified a subject in itself as open to definitely enhances their suggestiveness.
the perception of a candid mind and Horace Walpole wove a standard collec
healthy senses as any other department tion of anecdotes from the lives and
of human knowledge. Half the want works of painters. The frescoes of St.
of appreciation of pictures arises from Mark's, at Florence, have a peculiar sig
ignorance, not of the principles of Art, nificance to the spectator familiar with
but of the elements of Nature. Good Fra Angelico's life. One of the most
observers are rare . The peasant's criti- pathetic and beautiful tragedies in mod
cism upon Moreland's “ Farm -yard " ern literature is that which a Danish
that three pigs never eat together with poet elaborated from Correggio's artist
1858.] Something about Pictures. 403

career. Lamb's great treasure was a individuality and career, its phases and
print from Da Vinci, which he called aspects, is indefinitely enlarged. “The
“ My Beauty," and its exhibition to a greatest benefit,” says a late writer, “ we
literal Scotchman gave rise to one of owe to the artist, whether painter, poet,
the richest jokes in Elia's record. The or novelist, is the extension of our sym
pen -ırawing Andre made of himselt pathies. Art is the nearest thing to life ;
the night before his execution,—the cur- it is a mole of amplifying our experience
tain painted in the space where Faliero's and extending our contact with our fel
portrait should have been, in the ducal low -creatures beyond the bounds of our
palace at Venice, -and the head of Dan- personal lot."
te, discovered by Mr. Kirkup, on the The effect of a picture is increased by
wall of the Bargello, at Florence,-con- isolation and surprise. I never realized
vey impressions far beyond the mere the physiognomical traits of Madamo de
lines and hues they exhibit ; each is a Maintenon, until her portrait was en
drama, a destiny. And the hard but countered in a solitary country-house, of
true lineaments of Holbein , the aërial whose drawing -room it was the sole orna
grace of Malbone's “ Hours,” Albert Du ment ; and the romance of a miniature
rer's mediæval sanctities, Overbeck's con- by Malbone first came home to me, when
servative self -devotion, a market-place by an ancient dame, in the costume of the
Ostale, Reynolds's “ Strawberry Girl," last century, with trembling fingers drew
one of Copley's colonial grandees in a one of her husband from an antique
New England farmer's parlor, a cabinet cabinet, and descanted on the manly
gem by Greuze, a dog or sheep of Land- beauty of the deceased original, and the
seer's, the misty depths of Turner's “ Car- graceful genius of the young and lament
thage,” Domenichino's “ Sibyl,” Claude's ed artist. Hazlitt wrote an ingenious
sunset, or Allston's “ Rosalie,” — how much essay on 66" A Portrait by Vandyck,”
of eras in Art, events in history, national which gives us an adequate idea of what
tastes, and varieties of genius do they such a masterpiece is to the eye and
each foreshadow and embalm ! Even mind of genuine artistic perception and
when no special beauty or skill is mani- sympathy. Few sensations, or rather
fest, the character of features transmitted sentinents, are more inextricably made
by pictorial art, their antiquity or histor- up of pleasure and sadness than that
ical significance, often lends a mystery with which we contemplate (as is not in
and meaning to the effigies of humanity. frequent in some old gallery of Europe )
In the carved faces of old German a portrait which deeply interests or pow
church choirs and altars, the existent erfully attracts us, and whose history is
facial peculiarities of race are curiously irrevocably lost. A better homily on the
evident ; a Grecian life brcathes from evanescence of human love and fame
many a profile in the Elgin marbles, and can scarcely be imagined : a face alive
a sacred marvel invests the exhumed with moral personality and human charms,
giants of Nineveh ; in the cartoons of such as win and warm our stranger
Raphael, and the old Gobelin tapestries, cyes,-yet the name, subject, artist, own
are hints of what is essential in the er, all lost in oblivion ! To pause before
9

progress and the triumphs of painting. an interesting but “ unknown portrait ”

Considered as a language, how definitely is to read an elegy as pathetic as Gray’s.
is the style of painters associated with The mechanical processes by which
special forms of character and spheres Nature is so closely imitated , and the
of life ! It is this variety of human ex- increase of which during the last few
perience typified and illustrated on can- years is one of the most remarkable facts
vas, that formis our chief obligations to in science, may at the first glance ap
the artist; through him our perception pear to have lessened the marvellous in
of and acquaintance with our race , its Art, by making available to all the exact
404 Something about Pictures. [ February,
representation of still- life. But, when characteristic, the adventurous, and the
duly considered, the effect is precisely romantic. Open Vasari, Walpole, or
the reverse ; for exactly in proportion as Cunningham , at random , and one is sure
we become familiar with the mechanical to light upon something old, genial, or ex
production of the similitudes of natural citing. One of the most popular novelists
and artificial objects, do we instinctive- of our day assured me, that, in his opin
ly demand higher powers of conception, ion , the richest unworked vein for his
greater spiritual expression in the artist. craft, available in these days of civilized
The discovery of Daguerre and its nu- uniformity, is artist -life at Rome, to one
merous improvements, and the unrivalled thoroughly cognizant of its humors and
precision attained by Photography, ren- aspirations, its interiors and vagrancies,
der exact imitation no longer a miracle its self-denials and its resources. I have
of crayon or palette ; these must now sometimes imagined what a story the
create as well as reflect, invent and bar- old white dog who so long frequented
monize as well as copy, bring out the soul the Lepri and the Caffè Greco, and
of the individual and of the landscape, attached himself so capriciously to the
or their achievements will be neglected brother artists of his deceased master,
in favor of the fac-similes obtainable could have told , if blest with memory
through sunshine and chemistry. The and language. He had tasted the free
best photographs of architecture, statuary, dom and the zest of artist- life in Rome,
ruins, and, in some cases, of celebrated and scorned to follow trader or king.
pictures, are satisfactory to a degree He preferred the odor of canvas and oil
which has banished mediocre sketches, to that of conservatories, and had more
and even minutely finished but literal frolic and dainty morsels at an al fresco
pictures. Specimens of what is called of the painters, in the Campagna, than
“ Nature-printing," which gives an im- the kitchen of an Italian prince could
pression directly from the veined stone, furnish. His very name betokened good
the branching fern, or the sea -moss, are cheer, and was pronounced after the
so true to the details as to answer a sci- manner of the pert waiters who com
entific purpose ; natural objects are thus
placently enunciate a few words of Eng.
lithographed without the intervention of lish. Bif-steck was a privileged dog ; and
pencil or ink. And these several discov- though occasionally made the subject of
eries have placed the results of mere a practical joke, taught absurd tricks,
imitative art within reach of the mass ; sent on fools' errands, and his white coat
in other words, her prose language, that painted like aa zebra, these were but cas
which mechanical science can utter, is so ual troubles; he was a sensible dog to
universal, that her poetry, that which must despise them , when he could enjoy such
be conceived and expressed through indi- quaint companionship, behold such ex
vidual genius, the emanation of the soul, periments in color and drawing, serve as
is more distinctly recognized and absolute- a model himself, and go on delicious
ly demanded from the artist, in order to sketching excursions to Albano and Ti
vindicate his claim to that title, than evervoli, besides inhaling tobacco- smoke and
before. hearing stale jests and love soliloquies ad
Perhaps, indeed, the scopewhich Paint- infinitum . I am of Bif-steck's opinion.
ing offers to experimental, individual, and There is no such true, earnest, humorous,
prescriptive taste, the loyalty it invokes and individual life, in these days of high
from the conservative, the “ infinite pos- civilization, as that of your genuine
sibilities ” it offers to the imaginative, the painter ; impoverished as it often is, baf
intimary it promotes with Nature and fled in its aspirations, unregarded by the
character, are the cause of so much origi- material and the worldly, it often rears
nality and attractiveness in its votaries. and keeps pure bright, genial natures
The Lives of Painters abound in the whose contact brings back the dreams of
1858.] Something about Pictures. 405

youth. It is pleasant, too, to realize, in and made a practical joke of buying pic
a great commercial city, that man “ does tures; yet Newton and Leslie elicited his
not live by bread alone, ” that fun is bet- best humor. Talfourd cared little and
ter than furniture, and a private resource knew less of the treasures of the Louvre,
of nature more prolific of enjoyment but lingered there because it had been
than financial investments. It is rarehis friend Hazlitt's Elysium. Indeed ,
confort, here, in the land of bustle and there are constantly blended associations
sunshine, to sit in aа tempered light and in the history of English authors and art
hear a man sing or improvise stories over ists ; Reynolds is identified with John
his work, to behold once more vagaries son and Goldsmith, Smibert with Berke
of costume, to let the eye rest upon pic- ley, Barry with Burke, Constable and
torial fragınents of Italy; —the old fa- Wilkic with Sir George Beaumont, Hay
miliar faces ” of Roman models, the on- don with Wordsworth, and Leslie with
dcared outlines of Apennine hills, the Irving; the painters depict their friends
contadina bodice and the brigand bat, of the pen , the latter celebrate in verse
until these objects revive to the heart all or prose the artist's triumphs, and both
the romance of travel. interminyle thought and sympathy ; and
The technicalities of Art, its refine- from this contact of select intelligences
ments of style, its absolute significance, of diverse vocation has resulted the
are, indeed, as dependent for apprecia- choicest wit and the most genial compan
tion on a special endowment as are ionship. If from special we turn to gen
mathematics ; but the general and inci- eral associations, from biography to his
dental associations, in which is involved tory, the same prolific affinities are evi
a world of poetry, may be enjoyed to dent, whereby the artist becomes an
the full extent by those whose perception interpreter of life, and casts the halo of
of form , sense of color, and knowledge of romance over the stern features of real
the principles of sculpture, painting, mu- ity. Hampton Court is the almost breath
sic, and architecture are notably deficient. ing society of Charles the Second's reign ;
It is a law of life and nature, that truth the Bodleian Gallery is vivid with Brit
and beauty, alequately represented , cro- ain's past intellectual life; the history of
ate and diffuse a limitless element of wis- France is pictured on the walls of Ver
dom and pleasure. Such memorials are sailles ; the luxury of color bred by the
talismanic, and their influence is felt in sunsets of the Euganean bills, the waters
all the higher and inore permanent of the Adriatic, the marbles of San Mar
spheres of thought and emotion ; they co, and the skies and atmosphere of
are the gracious landmarks that guide Venice, are radiant on the canvas of
humanity above the commonplace and Titian, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese ;
the material , along the line of infinite Michel Angelo has embodied the soul
desires." Art, in its broad and perma- of his era and the loftiest spirit of his
nent meaning, is a language, —the lan- country; Salvator typified the half-sav
guage of sentiment, of character, of age picturesqueness, Neapolitan Clue
national impulse, of individual genius ; the atmospheric enchantments, Carlo
and for this reason it bears a lesson , a Dolce the effeminate grace, Titian the
charm , or a sanction to all,-even those voluptuous energy, Guido the placid self
least versed in its rules and least alive possession, and Raphael and Correggio
to its special triumphs. Sir Walter the religious sentiment of Italy ; Wat
Scott was no amateur, yet, through bis teau put on canvas the fête champêire ;
reverence for ancestry and his local the peasant-life of Spain is pictured by
attachments, portraiture and architec- Murillo, ber asceticism by the old relig
ture had for him a romantic interest. ious limners; what English rustics were
Sydney Smith was impatient of galleries before steam and railroads Gainsborough
when he could talk with men and women , and Moreland reveal, Wilkie has perma
 406 Something about Pictures. [ February,
nently symbolized Scotch shrewdness and Amateur collectors can unfold a tale
domesticity, and Lawrence framed and in reference to their best acquisitions
fixed the elegant shapes of a London which outvies fiction . Beckford's table
drawing -room ; and each of these is a talk abounded in such reminiscences.
normal type and suggestive exemplar to An American artist, who had resided
the imagination, a chapter of romance, long in Italy and made a study of old
a sequestration and initial token of the pictures, caught sight at a shop-window
characteristic and the historical, either in New Orleans of an “ Ecce Homo "
of what has become traditional or what so pathetic in expression as to arrest
is forever true. his steps and engross his attention .
The indirect service good artists have Upon inquiry, he learned that it had
rendered by educating observation has been purchased of a soldier fresh from
yet to be acknowledged . The Venetian Mexico, after the late war between
painters cannot be even superficially re- that country and the United States ; he
garded, without developing the sense of bought it for a trifle, carried it to Europe,
color; nor the Roman, without enlarging and soon authenticated it as an original
our cognizance of expression ; nor the Guercino, painted for the royal chapel in
English, without refining our perception Madrid, and sent thence by the govern
of the evanescent effects in scenery . ment to a church in Mexico, whence , af
Raphael has made infantile grace obvious ter centuries, it had found its way, through
to unmaternal eyes ; Turner opened to the accidents of war, to a pawnbroker's
many a preoccupied vision the wonders shop in Louisiana. A lady in one of our
of atinosphere ; Constable guided our eastern cities, wishing to possess, as a me
perception of the casual phenomena of morial, some article which had belonged
wind ; Landseer, that of the natural lan- to a deceased neighbor, and not having
guage of the brute creation ; Lely, of the means, at the public sale of her ef
the coiffure ; Michel Angelo, of physical fects, to bid for an expensive piece of fur
grandeur; Rolfe, of fish ; Gerard Dow , niture, contented herself with buying for
of water ; Cuyp, of meadows; Cooper, a few shillings a familiar chimney-screen.
a

of cattle ; Stanfield , of the sea ; and so One day she discovered a glistening sur
on through every department of pictorial face under the flowered paper which
art. Insensibly these quiet but persua covered it, and when this was torn away ,
sive teachers have made every phase there stood revealed a picture of Jacob
and object of the material world interest- and Rebecca at the Well, by Paul Ve
ing, environed them with more or less ronese ; doubtless thus concealed with a
of romance, by such revelations of their view to its secret removal during the first
latent beauty and meaning ; so that, French Revolution . The missing Charles
thus instructed , the sunset and the pas- First of Velasquez was lately exhibited
toral landscape, the moss-grown arch in this country , and the account its pos
and the craggy seaside, the twilight sessor gives of the mode of its discovery
grove and the swaying cornfield , an and the obstacles which attended the
old mill, a peasant, light and shadle, establishment of its legal ownership in
form and feature, perspective and anat- England is a remarkable illustration
omy, a smile, a gesture, a cloud, a water- both of the tact of the connoisseur and
fall, weather-stains, leaves, deer, every the mysteries of jurisprudence.
object in Nature, and every impress of There is scarcely, indeed, an artist or a
the elements, speaks more distinctly to patron of art, of any cminence, who has
the eye and more effectively to the imag- not his own “ story of a picture.” Like
ination . all things of beauty and of fame, the very
The vicissitudes which sometimes at- desire of possession which a painting ex
tend a picture or statue furnish no in- cites, and the interest it awakens, give
adequate materials for narrative interest. rise to some costly sacrifice, or incidental
1858.] Something about Pictures. 407

circumstance, which associates the prize taste, induced me to improve occasions

with human fortune and sentiment. I like this with alacrity. He seemed de
remember an anecdote of this kind told lighted to welcome such a visitor, as his
me by a
a friend in Western New York . life, for several weeks, had been quite
66
Waiting,” said he, “ in the little front- isolated. The retirement and agreeable
parlor of a house in the town of C, to scenery of this inland town harmonized
transact some business with its occupant, with his feelings; he was unambitious,
I was attracted by a clean sketch in oil happy in his domestic relations, and had
that hung above the fireplace. It might managed, from time to time, to execute
have escaped notice elsewhere, but traces a portrait or dispose of a sketch, and
of real skill in Art were too uncommon thus subsist in comfort; so that an acci
in this region to be disregarded by any dental and temporary visit to this se
lover of her fruits. The readiness to cluded region had unconsciously length
seize upon any casual source of inter- ened into aa whole summer's residence ,
est, common with those who “ stand and partly to be ascribed to the kindness and
wait ” in a place where they are strang- easy terms of his good old host, a thrifty
ers, doubtless had something to do with farmer, whose wife, having no children
the careful attention I bestowed upon of her own, doted upon the painter's
this production. It was a very modest boy, and grieved at the mention of their
attempt ,-a bit of landscape, with two departure. I doubt if my new friend
horses grazing and a man at work in would have had the enterprise to migrato
the foreground. Quiet in tone, and half-at all, but for my urgency ; but I soon
concealed by the shaded casement, it discovered, that, with the improvidence of
was only by degrees, and to ward off his tribe, he had laid nothing by, and that
the ennui of a listless half-hour, that I
he stood in need of medical advice, and,
gradually became absorbed in its exami- after a long conversation, upon my en
nation . There were some masterly lines, gaging to secure bim an economical home
clever arrangement, a true feeling, and aand plenty of work in Utica, he promised
peculiar delicacy of treatment, that im- to remove thither in a month ; and then
plied the hand of a trained artist. becoming more cheerful, he exhibited,
“ My pleasant communion with the one by one, the trophies of Art in his
unknown was at last interrupted by the possession.
66
entrance of my tardy man -of-business, Among them were a Moreland and
but the instant our affair was transacted a Gainsborough, some fine engravings
I inquired about the sketch . It proved after Reynolds, prints, cartoons, and
to be the work of a young Englishman crayon heads by famous artists, and two
then residing in the neighborhood. I or three Hogarth proof-impressions; but
obtained his address and sought his the treasure which riveted my gaze was
dwelling. He was scraping an old pal- a masterly head of such vigorous outline
ette as we entered, and advanced with it and effective tints, that I immediately
in one hand, while he saluted me with recognized the strong, free, bold hand
6
the air of a gentleman and the simplicity ling of Gilbert Stuart. “ That was given
of an honest man. He wore a linen me,' said the gratified painter, .by the
blouse, his collar was open, his hair long son of an Edinburgh physician, who,
and dark , his complexion pale, his eye when a young practitioner, had the good
thoughtful, and a settled expression of fortune to call one day upon Stuart
sweetness and candor about the mouth when he was suffering from the effects
made me feel, at a glance, that I had right- of a fall. Ile had been thrown from a
ly interpreted the sketch. I mentioned vehicle and had broken his arm , which
it as an apology for my intrusion, and was so unskilfully set that it became in
added, that a natural fondness for Art, flamed and swollen, and the clumsy sur
and rare opportunities for gratifying the geon talked of amputation. Imagine the
408 Something about Pictures. ( February,
feeling of such an artist at the idea of portrait-painters, especially for old and
losing his right arm ! The doctor's visit characteristic heads. Thus, in the cen
was not professional, but, seeing the de- tre of Western New York, he found his
spondent mood of the invalid artist, he Academy, his Royal College, his Gal
could not refrain the offer of service . It lery and life-school, in one adequate ef
was accepted, and proved successful, and fort of Stuart's masterly hand ; the offer
the patient's gratitude was unbounded . ing of gratitude became the model and
Asthe doctor refused pecuniary compen- the impulse whereby a farmer's son on
sation, Stuart insisted upon painting a the banks of the Mohawk rose to the
likeness of his benefactor ; and as he highest skill and eminence. But this was
worked under no common impulse, the a gradual process ; and meantime it is
result, as you see , was a masterpiece.' casy to imagine what a treasure the pic
“ A few weeks after this pleasant inter- ture became in his estimation . It was
view, I had established my protégé at only by degrees that his merit gained
Utica, and obtained him several commis- upon public regard. His first visit to
sions. But his medical attendant pro- New York was a failure ; and after wait
nounced his disease incurable ; he lin- ing many weeks in vain for a sitter, he
gered a few months, conversing to the was obliged to pay his indulgent landlord
last, during the ' intervals of pain and with a note of hand , and return to the
feebleness, with a resignation and intel- more economical latitude of Syracuse.
ligence quite endearing. When he died, There he learned that a wealthy trader,
I advised bis widow to preserve as long desirous of the éclat of a connoisseur,
as possible the valuable collection he had was resolved to possess the cherished
left, and with it she repaired to one of portrait. Although poor, he was re
her kindred in affluent circumstances, solved never to part with it ; but the
living fifty miles away. She endeavored sagacious son of Mammon was too keen
to force upon my acceptance one, at least, for him ; discovering his indebtedness,
of her husband's cherished pictures ; but he bought the artist's note of the inn
knowing her poverty, I declined, only keeper, and levied an execution upon
stipulating that if ever she parted with his effects. But genius is often more
the Stuart, I should have the privilege than a match for worldly-wisulom . Elliot
of taking it at her own price. soon heard of the plot, and determined
“ A year passed , and I was informed to defeat it. He worked hard and se
that many of her best things had become cretly, until he had made so good a copy
the property of her relative, who, how- that the most practised eye alone could
ever, knew not how to appreciate them . detect the counterfeit ; and then con
I commissioned a friend, who knew him , cealing the original at his lodgings, he
to purchase at any cost the one I craved. quietly awaited the legal attachment. It
He discovered that a native artist, who was (luly levied , the sale took place, and
had been employed to delineate the the would -be amateur bought the famil
family, had obtained this work in pay- iar picture hanging in its accustomed
ment, and had it carefully enshrined in position, and then boasted in the market
his studio at Syracuse. This was Charles place of the success of his base scheme.
Elliot ; and the possession of so excellent Ere long one of Elliot's friends reveal
an original by one of the best of our art- ed the clever trick. The enraged pur
ists in this department explains his subse- chaser commenced a suit, and , although
quent triumphs in portraiture. He made the painter eventually retained the pic
a study of this trophy ; it inspired his ture, the case was carried to the Su
pencil ; from its contemplation he caught preme Court, and he was condemned
the secret of color, the breadth and to pay costs. Ten years elapsed. The
strength of execution, which have since artist became an acknowledged master,
placed him among the first of American and prosperity followed his labors. No
 1858.] Something about Pictures. 409

one can mistake the rich tints and vigor- wote a romance around the picture. It
ous expression, the character and color, was evidently not the work of a novice ;
which distinguish Elliot's portraits ; but it was as much out of place in this ob
few imagine how much he is indebted scure and inelegant domicil, as a dia
to the long possession and study of so mond set in filigree, or a rose among
invaluable an original for these traits, pigweed. How came it there ? who
moulded by his genius into so many ad- was the original ? what her history and
mirable represertations of the loved, the her fate ? Her parentage and her nur
venerable, and the honored , both living ture must have been refined ; she must
and dead. ” have inspired love in the chivalric ; per
Another friend of mine, in exploring chance this was the last relic of an illus
the more humble class of boarding houses trious exile, the last memorial of a prince
in one of our large commercial towns, in ly house.
search of an unfortunate relation, found This revcric of conjecture was inter
himself, while expecting the landlady, rupted by the entrance of the landlady.
absorbed in a portrait on the walls of a My friend had almost forgotten the ob
dingy back -parlor. The furniture was ject of his visit; and when his anxious
of the most common description. A few inquiries proved vain, he drew the lo
smutched and faded annuals, half -cover- quacious hostess into general conversa
ed with dust, lay on the centre-table, tion, in order to elicit the mystery of
beside an old -fashioned astral lamp, a the beautiful portrait. She was a robust,
cracked porcelain vase of wax - flowers, a gray -haired woman , with whose consti
yellow satin pincushion embroidered with tutional good -nature care had waged a
tarnished gold -lace, and an album of ven- long and partially successful war. That
erable huc filled with hyperbolic apos- indescribable air which speaks of better
trophes to the charms of some ancient days was visible at a glance ; the rem
beauty ; which, with the dilapidated win- nants of bygone gentility were obvious
dow -curtains, the obsolete sideboard , the in her dress ; she had the peculiar man
wooden effigy of a red -faced man with a ner of one who had enjoyed social con
spyglass under his arm , and the cracked sideration ; and her language indicated
alabaster clock - ase on the mantel, all familiarity with cultivated society ; yet
bespoke an impoverished establishment, the anxious expression habitual to her
so devoid of taste that the beautiful and countenance, and the hustling air of her
artistic portrait seemed to have found its vocation which quickly succeeded con
way there by a miracle. It represented versational repose , hinted but too plainly
a young and spirituelle woman, in the cos- straitened circumstances and daily toil.
tume, so elegant in material and formal But what struck her present curious visit
in mode, which Copley has immortalized ; or more than these casual traits were the
in this instance, however, there was a remains of great beauty in the still love
French look about the coiffure and robe. ly contour of the face, the refined lines
The eyes were bright with intelligence of her mouth, and the depth and varied
chastened by sentiment, the features at play of the eyes. Ile was both sympa
once delicate and spirited, and altogether thetic and ingenious, and cre long gained
the picture was one of those visions of the confidence of his auditor. The un
blended youth, grace , sweetness, and• in- feigned interest and the true perception
tellect, from which the fancy instinctively he manifested in speaking of the portrait
infers a tale of love, genius, or sorrow , rendered him, in its owner's estimation,
according to the mood of the spectator. worthy to know the story his own in
Subdued by his melancholy errand and tuition had so nearly divined. The orig
discouraged by a long and vain search, inal was Theodosia, the daughter of Aar
my friend, whosc imagination was quite ron Burr. His affection for her was the
as excitable as his taste was correct, soon redeeming fact of his career and charac
410 Cretins and Idiots. [ February ,
ter. Both were anomalous in our his- time, is remembered with pity. Her
tory. In an era remarkable for patriot- wretched father bore with bim, in all
ic self -sacrifice, he became infamous for his wanderings and through all his re
treasonable ambition ; among a phalanx morseful exile, her picture, -emblem of
of statesmen illustrious for directness and filial love, of all that is beautiful in the
integrity, he pursued the tortuous path ministry of woman , and all that is terri
of perfidious intrigue; in a community ble in human fate. At length he lay dan
where the sanctities of domestic life were gerously ill in a garret. He had part
unusually revered, he bore the stigma ed with one after another of his articles
of unscrupulous libertinism . With the of raiment, books, and trinkets, to defray
blood of his gallant adversary and his the expenses of a long illness ; Theo
country's idol on his hands, the pen- dosia's picture alone remained ; it hung
alties of debt and treason hanging over beside him,--the one talisman of irre
him, the fertility of an acute intellect proachable memory, of spotless love, and
wasted on vain expedients,-- an outlaw, of undying sorrow ; he resolved to die
an adventurer, a plausible reasoner with with this sweet relic of the loved and lost
one sex and fascinating betrayer of the in his possession ; there his sacrifices end
other, poor, bereaved, contemned ,-one ed. Life seemed slowly ebbing; the un
holy, loyal sentiment lingered in his per- paid physician Jagged in bis visits ; the
verted soul, —love for the fair, gifted, gen- importunate landlord threatened to send
tle being who called him father. The this once dreaded partisan, favored guest,
only disinterested sympathy his letters and successful lover to the almshouse ;
breathe is for her ; and the feeling and when , as if the spell of woman's affec
sense of duty they manifest offer a re- tion were spiritually magnetic, one of
markable contrast to the parallel record the deserted old man's early victims
of a life of unprincipled schemes, misused no other than she who spoke - acci
talents, and heartless amours. As if to dentally heard of his extremity, and, for
complete the tragic antithesis of destiny, getting her wrongs, urged by compassion
the beloved and gifted woman who thus and her remembrance of the past, sought
shed an angelic ray upon that dark her betrayer, provided for his wants, and
career was soon after her father's return rescued him from impending dissolution.
from Europe lost in a storm at sea while In grateful recognition of her Christian
on her way to visit him , thus meeting kindness, he gave her all he had to be
a fate which, even at this distance of stow ,—Theodosia's portrait.

CRETINS AND IDIOTS :

WHAT ILAS BEEN AND WHAT CAN BE DONE FOR THEM .

Among the numerous philanthropic The traveller, whom inclination or sci
movements which have characterized the ence may have led into the Canton Va
nineteenth century, none, perhaps, are lais, or Pays-de-Vaud, in Switzerland, or
more deserving of praise than those into the less frequented regions of Savoy,
which have bad for their object the im- Aosta , or Styria, impressed as he may be
provement of the cretin and the idiot, with the beauty and grandeur of the
classes until recently considered as be- scenery through which he passes, finds
yond the reach of curative treatment. himself startled also at the frightful de
1858.] Cretins and Idiots. 411

formity and degradation of the inhabi- cases which are attributable to none of
tants. By the roadside, basking in the these causes .
sun , he beholds beings whose appearance The disease is not, however, confined
seems such aa caricature upon humanity, to Europe. It is prevalent also in China
that he is at a loss to know whether to and Chinese Tartary, in Thibet, along
assign them a place among the human or the base of the Himalaya range in India,
the brute creation. Unable to walk ,- in Sumatra , in the vicinity of the Andes
usually deaf and dumb, —with bleared in South America, in Mexico ; and spo
eyes, and head of disproportionate size, – radic cases are found along the line of
brown, flabby, and leprous skin ,-- a huge the Alleghanies. It is said not to occur
goitre descending from the throat and in Europe at a higher elevation than four
resting upon the breast,—an abdomen thousand feet above the sea level.
enormously distended ,-the lower limbs The derivation of the name is in
crooked , weak, and ill-shaped,-without volved in some mystery ; most writers re
the power of utterance , or thoughts to garding it as a corruption of the French
otter, —and generally incapable of see- Chrétien, as indicative of the intcapacity
ing, not from defect of the visual organs, of these unfortunate beings to commit
but from want of capacity to fix the eye sin. A more probable theory, however,
upon any object,—the cretin seems be- is that which deduces it from the Grison
yond the reach of human sympathy or Romance Cretira, “ creature .”
aid . In intelligence he is far below The existence of this disease has long
the horse, the dog, the monkey, or even been known ; references are made to it
the swine ; the only instincts of his na- by Pliny, as well as by some of the Ro
ture are hunger and lust, and even these man writers in the second century of the
are fitful and irregular. Christian era ; and in the seventeenth
The number of these unfortunate be- and eighteenth centuries its prevalence
ings in the mountainous districts of Eu and causes were frequently discussed .
rope, and especially of Central and Most of the writers on the subject, how
Southern Europe, is very great. In ever, considered the case of the pour
several of the Swiss cantons they form cretin as utterly hopeless; and the few
from four to five per cent. of the popula- who decmed a partial improvement of
tion. In Rhenish Prussia, and in the his health, though not of his intellect,
Danubian provinces of Austria, the num- possible, merely suggested some mcasures
ber is still greater ; in Styria, many vil- for that purpose, without making any
lages of four or five thousand inhabitants effort to reduce them to practice. It was
not having a single man capable of bear reserved for a young physician of Zürich,
ing arnis. In Würtemberg and Bavaria, Doctor Louis Guggenbühl, whose prac
in Savoy, Sardinia, the Alpine regions tical benevolence was active cnough to
of France, and the mountainous districts overcome any repugnance he might feel
of Spain, the diseasc is very prevalent to labors in behalf of aa class so degraded
The causesof so fearful a degeneration and apparently unpromising, to be the
of body and mind are not satisfactorily pioneer in an effort to improve their
ascertained. Extreme poverty, impure physical, mental, and moral condition.
air, filthiness of person and dwelling, It is now twenty -one years since this
unwholesome diet, the use of water im- noble philanthropist, then just entering
pregnated with some of the magnesian upon the duties of his profession, was
salts, intemperance, (particularly in the first led by some incidents occurring dur
use of the cheap and vile brandy of ing a tour in the Bernese Alps to investi
Switzerland,) and the intermarriage of gate the condition of the cretin . For
near relatives and of those affected with three years he devoted himself to the
goitre, have all been assigned, and with study of the disease and the method of
apparently good reason ; yet there are treating it. Two years of this period
 412 Cretins and Idiots. [ February ,
were spent in the small village of Seruf, Cretinism seems to be aa combination of
in the Canton Glarus, where he was suc- two diseases, the one physical, the other
cessful in restoring several to the use of mental. The physical disorder is akin to
their limbs. It was at the end of this Rachitis, or rickets, while the mental is
period , that, with a moral courage and substantially idiocy. The osscous struc
ture, deficient in the phosphate of lime, is
devotion of which history affords but few
examples, Doctor Guggenbühl resolved unable to sustain the weight of the body,
to dedicate his life to the elevation of the and the cretin is thus incapacitated for
cretins from their degraded condition. active motion ; the muscles are soft and
Consecrating his own property to the wasted ; the skin dingy, cold , and un
work, he asked assistance from the Can- healthy ; the appetite voracious; spas
ton Bern in the purchase of land for a modic and convulsed action frequent ;
hospital, and received a grant of six and the digestion imperfect and greatly
hundred francs ( $ 120) for the work . disordered. The mind seems to exist
His investigations had satisfied him that only in a germinal state ; observation,
an elevated and dry locality was desir- memory, thought, the power of combi.
able, and that it was only the young nation, are all wanting. The external
who could be benefited . Ile accordingly senses are so torpid , that, for months per
purchaseil, in 1810, a tract of about forty haps, it is in vain to address either eye
acres of land, comprising a portion of or ear ; nor is the sense of touch much
the hill called the Abendberg, in the more active. The cretin is insensible to
Canton Bern, above Interlachen. The pain or annoyance, and seems to have
site of his Hospital buildings is about four as little sensation as an oyster.
thousand feet above the sea, and one or It was to the work of restoring these
two hundred feet below the summit of diseased and enfeebled bodies to health,
the hill; it is well protected from the cold
and of developing these germs of intel
winds, and the soil is tolerably fertile.
lect, that Doctor Guggenbühl addressed
There are few spots, even among the himself. For this purpose , pure air, en
Alps, which can compare with the Abend- forced exercise, the use of cold, warm ,
berg in beauty and grandeur of scenery. and vapor baths, of spirituous lotions
Doctor Guggenbühl was led to select it and frictions, a simple yet eminently
as much for this reason as for its salu- nutritive diet, regular habits, and the ad
brity, in the belief, which his subsequent ministration of those medicinal alteratives
experience has fully justified, that the which would give tone to the system , ac
striking nobleness of the landscape would tivity to the absorbents, and vigor to the
awaken , even in the torpid mind of the muscles, were the remedial measures
cretin, that sense of the beautiful in Na- adopted. As their strength increased ,
ture which would materially aid in his they were led to practise the simpler
intellectual culture. gymnastic exercises, -- running, jumping,
On the southern slope of the Abend- climbing, marching, the use of the dumb
berg he crected bis Hospital buildings, bells, ctc.
plain, woolen structures, without orna- The body thus partially invigorated,
ment, but confortable, and well adapted the culture of the mind was next to be at
to his purpose. llere he gathered about tempted ,,-a far more diMicult task. The
thirty cretin children, mostly under ten first step was, to teach the child to speak ;
years of age, and began his work . and as this implied the ability to hear,
To understand fully what was to be the car, hitherto dead to all sounds, must
accomplished, in order to transform the be impressed. For this purpose, sound
young cretin into an active, healthy child , was communicated by speaking -trumpets
it is necessary that we should glance at or other instruments, which should force
his physical and mental condition, when and fix the attention. The lips and vo
placed under treatment cal organs were then moulded to imitate
1858. ] Cretins and Idiots. 413

these sounds. The process was long and to rouse the torpid intellect to greater
wearisome, often occupying months, and activity.
even years ; but in the end it was suc- The next step was, to teach the cre
cessful. The eye was trained by the tin some knowledge of objects around
attraction of bright and varied colors, hin, animate and inanimate, and of his
and little by little simple ideas were com- relations to them . The exercise of the
municated to the feeble intellect,-great senses followed , and gayly colored pic
care being necessary , however, to pro- tures were presented to the eye, charm
ceed very slowly, as the cretin is easily ing music to the ear, fragrant odors to
discouraged , and when once overtasked , the smell, and the varieties of sweet, bit
will make no further attempts to learn. ter, sour, and pungent substances to the
It was only by gaining the love of taste .
these poor creatures that they could be When the perceptive faculties were
led to make any progress ; and at an thus trained, books were made to take
early stage of their training, Doctor Gug- the place of object lessons; reading and
genbühl deemed it wise to infuse into writing were taught by long and patient
their dawning minds the knowledge and endeavor ; the clements of arithmetic, of
the love of a higher Being, to teach Scripture history, and of geography were
them something of the power and good communicated ; and mechanical instruc
ness of God . The result, he assures us, tion was imparted at the same time.
has been highly satisfactory ; the mind, Under this general routine of instruc
too feeble for earthly lore, too weak to tion, Dr. Guggenbühl has conducted his
grasp the simplest facts of science, has establishment for seventeen years, often
yet comprehended something of the love with limited means, and at times strug
of the All-father, and lifted up to him gling with debt, from which, more than
its imperfect but plaintive supplication. once, kind English friends, who have
That the enthusiasm of this good man visited the Hospital, or become inter
may have led hiin to exaggerate some- ested in the man, during his occasional
what the extent of the religious attain hasty visits to Great Britain , have re
ments of his pupils is possible ; but the lieved him . His personal appearance is
experience of every teacher of the cre- thus described by a friend who was on
tin or the idiot has satisfactorily demon- terms of intimacy with him ; the place is
strated that simple religious truths are at one of Lord Rosse's conrersazioni.
66
acquired by those who seem incapable * Imagine in the crowd which swept
of understanding the plainest problems through his Loruship’s suite of rooms a
in arithmetic or the most elementary small, foreign- looking man, with features
facts of science . God has so willed it, of a Grecian cast, and long, shoulder
that the mightiest intellect which strives covering, black hair ; look at that man's
unavailingly to comprehend the wisdom face ; there is a gentleness, an amiability
and glory of his creation, and the fee- combined with intelligence, which wins
blest intelligence which knows only and you to him. His dress is peculiar in
instinctively his love, shall aliko find in that crowd of white cravats and acres of
that love their highest solace and delight. ambric shirt- fronts ; black, well-worn
The phenomena of Nature were next black, is his suit ; but his waistcoat is of
made the objects of instruction ; and to black satin , double-breasted, and but
this the well-chosen position of the es- toned closely up to the throat. It is Dr.
tablishment largely contributed . Sun- Guggenbühl, the mildest, the gentlest of
shine and storm , the light clouds which men, but one of those calm , reflecting
mottled the sky and the black heaps minds that push on after a worthy ob
which foreboded the tempest, the light- ject, undismayed by difficulties, unde
ning and the rainbow , all in turn served terred by ridicule or rebuff ."
to awaken the slumbering faculties, and In his labors in behalf of the unfortu
 414 Cretins and Idiots.
[ February,
nate class to whom he has devoted him- though far more promising, apparently,
self, Dr. Guggenbühl has been assisted at first, a longer course of training would
very greatly by the Protestant Sisters be requisite, and the most strenuous ef
of Charity, who, like the Catholic sister- forts on the part of the teacher would
hoou , dedicate their lives to offices of not, in all probability , bring the pupil up
charity and love to the sick, the unfortu- to the level of a respectable mediocrity.
nate , and the erring. From a great number of cases, nar
Dr. Guggenbühl claims to have effect- rated in the different Reports of Dr.
ed a perfect cure in about one third of Guggenbülil before us, we select one as
the cases which have been under his the type of a large class, in which the
chargc, by a treatment of from three to development of the intellect seems to
six years' duration. The attainment of have been retarded by the physical dis
so large a measure of success has been order, but proceeded regularly on the
questioned by some who have visited the return of health .
Hospital on the Abendberg ; and while a “ C. was four years old when she en
part of these critics were undoubtedly ac- tered, with every symptom of confirmed
tuated by a jealous and fault-finding dis- rachitic cretinism . Her nervous system
position, it is not impossible that the was completely out of order, so that the
enthusiasın of the philanthropist may strongest electric shocks produced scarce
have led him to regard the acquirements ly any effect on her for some months
of his pupils as beyond what they really Aromatic baths, frictions, moderate exer
were . cise, a regimen of meat and milk, were
A greater source of fallacy, however, the mcans of restoring her. Her bones
is in the want of fixed standards for and muscles grew so strong, that, in the
estimating the comparative capacity of course of a year, she could run and
children affected with cretinism , when jump. Her mind appeared to advance
placed under treatment, and the degree in proportion to her body, for she learned
of intellectual and physical development to talk in French as well as in German .
which constitutes a “ perfect cure, ” in The life and spirits of her age at length
the opinion of such men as Dr. Guggen- burst forth, and she was as gay and hap
bühl. It is a fact, which all who have py as she had before been cross and dis
long had charge of either cretins or idiots agreeable. She was particularly open
well understand, that a great degree of hearted , active, kind , and cleanly. She
physical deformity and disorder, a strong learned to read, write, and cipher, to
ly marked rachitic condition of the body, sew and knit, and above all she loved to
complicated even with loss of hearing sing. It is now two years since she left,
and speech, may exist, while the intellec- and she continues quite well, and goes
tual powers are but slightly affected ; in to school.”
other words, that a child may be in ex- We think our readers will perceive
ternal appearance a cretin, and even that this was not a case of confirmed in
one of low grade, yet with a higher de- tellectual degradation, but only of re
gree of intellectual capacity than most tarded mental development, the result
cretins possess. On the other hand, the of diseased bodily condition. These
bodily weakness and deformity may be cases are distressing to parents and
slight, while the mental condition is very friends, and he whosucceeds in restoring
low. In the former case , we might rea- them to health, intelligence, and the en
sonably expect, on the successful treat- joyment of life, accomplishes a great
ment of the rachitic synıptoms, a rapid and good work ; but it does not neces
intellectual development ; the child would sarily follow that the cases where the
soon be able to pursue its studies in an mental degeneration is as complete as
ordinary school, and a “ perfect cure " the physical would as readily yield to
would be effected. In the latter case, treatment; and we are driven to the
1858.] Cretins and Idiots. 415

conviction that the enthusiasm and zeal proper care and medication, the physical
of Dr. Guggenbühl have led him to ex- symptoms of the disease may be greatly
aggerate the measure of success attained diminished and in many cases entirely
in these cases of low grade, and thus to eradicated , and the mental condition so
excite hopes which could never be ful- far improved, that the patient shall be
filled . *
able, under proper direction, to support
There are four other institutions in himself wholly or in part by his own
Germany devoted wholly or in part to labor. The hideous and repulsive con
the treatment of cretins; they are lo- dition of the body can be cured ; the
cated at Bendorf, Mariaberg, Winter- mental deformity will yield less readily ;
bach, and Hubertsburg. There are also yet in some instances this, too, may disap
two in Sardinia. All together they may pcar, and the cretin take his place with
contain three hundred children . The his fellow -men .
success of these institutions has not been Let us now turn our attention to an
equal to that of the Abendberg, although other class, in whom, as a people, we
the teachers seem to have been faithful have a deeper interest ; for though cre
and patient. The statistics of the latest tinism does undoubtedly exist in the
census of the countries of Central and United States, yet the cases are but few ;
Southern Europe render it certain that while idiocy is fearfully prevalent through
those countries contain from seventy -five out the country.
to eighty thousand cretins, and as the The possibility of improving the con
cretin seldom passes his thirtieth year, dition of the idiot is one of those discov
the number under ten years of age eries which will make the nineteenth
must exceed thirty thousand. · The pro- century remarkable in the annals of the
vision for their training is, of course, en- future for its philanthropic spirit. Idiots
tirely inadequate to their needs. have existed in all ages, and have com
The limited experience of the few monly vegetated through life in utter
institutions already established warrants, wretchedness and degrading filth, con
we think, the conclusion , that too high cealed from public view .
expectations have been raised in re- During the early part of the present
gard to the complete cure of cretinism ; century, a few attempts were made to
that only a small proportion (cases in instruct them ; the carliest known being
which the bodily disease is the princi- at the American Asylum for the Deaf
pal difficulty, and the mental deteriora- and Dumb, in Hartford, in 1818. In
tion slight) can be perfectly cured ; but 1824, Dr. Belhomme, of Paris, published
that these institutions, regarded as hospi- an essay on the possibility of improving
tals for the treatment and training of the condition of idiots ; and in 1828, a
cretins, arc in the highest degree im- few were instructed for a short time at
portant and beneficial; and that, under the Bicêtre, one of the large insane hos
pitals of Paris. In 1831 , M. Falret at
* Dr. F. Kern, Superintendent of the Idiot tempted the same work at the Salpê
School at Gohlis, near Leipzig, in an article trière, another of the hospitals for the
in the Allgemeine Zeilschrift für Psychiatrie, insane in the same city. Neither of
published the present year, ( 1857, ) states that these efforts was continued long in ex
he examined a boy in the Abendberg Hospi
tal in 1653, of whom Dr. Guggenbühl had said , istence. In 1833, Dr. Voisin, a distin
in his work Um the Cure of Cretinism , pub- gaished French physiologist and phre
lished a few months previously, that, “after nologist, attempted the organization of a
the painstaking examination of Dr. Naville , school for idiots in Paris. In 1839 , aided
he was held to be capable of entering atrain- by Dr. Leuret, he revived the School for
ingschool for teachers,in order to qualify idiots in the Bicêtre, subsequently under
himself for a teacher " : Dr. Kern found that
he knew neither the day of the week or the the charge of M. Valléc. The “ Apostle
month, nor bis birthday, nor his age. to the Idiots,” however, to use a French
 416 Cretins and Idiots. [ February,
expression, was Dr. Edward Seguin. and at each step, to impress the mind
The friend and pupil of Itard, the cele- with moral principles. The mere ac
brated surgeon and philanthropist, he quisition of a few facts, more or less, and
had in early youth entered into the the capacity to repeat these, parrot-like,
views of his master respecting the prac- he regards as an attainment of very little
ticability of their instruction ; and when, consequence ; the great object should be
during liis last illness, Itard, with a phi- to make the child do his own thinking,
lanthropy which triumphed over the ter- and this once attained , he will acquire
rible pangs of disease, reminded hiin of facts as he needs them .
the work which he had himself longed Dr. Seguin met with a high degree of
to undertake, and urged him to devote success in the instruction of idiotic and
his abilities to it, the young physician ac- imbecile children , and in 1846 published
cepted the sacred trust, and thenceforth a treatise on the treatment of idiocy,
consecrated bis life to the work of en- which will, for years to come, be the
deavoring to clevate the helpless idiot in manual of every teacher of this unfortu
the scale of humanity. nate class.
Previous teachers of the imbecile had While Seguin was demonstrating the
not attempted to master the philosophy truth of his theory of instruction at Paris,
of idiocy. They had gone to work at Herr Saegert, a teacher of deaf mutes at
hap-hazard, striking at random, hoping Berlin, having attempted, unsuccessfully,
somehow , they knew not exactly how, to the instruction of a deaf and dumb idiot,
get some ideas into the mind of the pa- was led to inquire into the reasons of his
tient, and, by exciting the faculty of imi- failure.. Without any knowledge of Se
tation, perhaps improve his condition. guin's labors, he arrived substantially at
They succeeded in making him more the same conclusions, and devoted his
cleanly, and in inducing him to perform leisure to medical study, in order to
certain acts and exercises, as a well-train- grapple more successfully with the prob
ed dog, monkey, or parrot might perform lem of the instruction of idiots. In
them . 1840 he commenced receiving idiotic
Seguin adopted an entirely different pupils, and has maintained a school for
course. By a long and careful investiga- them in Berlin up to the present time.
tion he satisfied himself as to what idiocy Herr Saegert is inclined to regard idiocy
consisted in, and then adopted such meas- as dependent upon the condition of the
ures as he deemed most judicious, for the brain and nervous system , to a greater
development of the intellect, and the ele- extent, perhaps, than Dr. Seguin, and to
vation of the social, mental, moral, and rely upon medication to some extent;
physical character of the idiot. though in his writings he professes to
In his view idiocy is only a prolonged consider it a condition, and not a dis
infancy, in which the infantile grace and ease .
intelligence having passed away, there The success of the efforts of Seguin
remains only the feeble muscular devel- and Saegert was soon reported in other
opment and mental weakness of that countries, and as early as 1846 excited
earliest stage of growth. He proposes the attention of philanthropists in Eng
to follow Nature in his processes of land and the United States. Schools
treatment; to invigorate the muscles by for the training of idiots were establish
bathing and exercise, using some com- ed, on a small scale at first, by soine
pulsion, if necessary, to effect this; to fix benevolent ladies, at Bath, Brighton,
the attention by bright colors, strong and Lancaster, England. In 1847, an
contrasts, military manauvres, etc.; to effort was made to establish an institu
strengthen and develope the will, the im- tion in some degree commensurate with
agination, the senses, and the imitative the wants of the unfortunate class for
powers, by a great variety of exercises ; whom it was intended. In this move
 1858.] Cretins and Idiots. 417

ment, Dr. John Conolly, the father of to society, and to active and useful life,
the non -restraint system in the treat- of these awkward , undeveloped, and
ment of the insane, Rev. Dr. Andrew backward youth,—of educating their
Reed, Rev. Edwin Sidney, and Sir S. hitherto undeveloped faculties, of eradi
M. Peto have distinguished themselves cating those habits which rendered them
by their zeal and liberality. Extensive disagreeable, and often almost unendur
buildings were rented at Highgate, near able ; but these youths are not idiots, and
London, and at Colchester, for the ac- no such analogy exists between them and
commodation of idiotic pupils, while a idiots as would enable us to infer with
strenuous and successful effort was made certainty the successful treatment of the
to obtain the necessary funds for the latter from the comparatively rapid de
erection of an asylum of great size. velopment of the former.
The Royal Institution for Idiots, com- In our own country more satisfactory
pleted in 1856, has between four hun- data exist for determining this point.
dred and five hundred beds, and is al- The movement for the instruction of
ready nearly or quite full. Essex Hall, idiots commenced almost simultaneously
at Colchester, has also been fitted up as in New York and Massachusetts. The
a permanent establishment for their in- first school for idiots in this country was
struction, and furnishes accommodation commenced at Barre, Massachusetts, by
for some two hundred more . Two small Dr. H. B. Wilbur, in July, 1848 ; and the
institutions, supported by private benefi- Massachusetts Experimental School, by
cence, have also been organized in Scot- Dr. S. G. Howe, in October of the same
land. year. There are now in the United
The British institutions have admitted , States six institutions for the instruction
to a very considerable extent, a class of and training of this unfortunate class,
pupils who are not properly idiots, but namely : the Massachusetts School, at
only persons of imbecile purpose, or South Boston, still under the general su
simply awkward, and of partially devel- perintendence of Dr. Howe ; a private
· oped intellects. Some of these, who institution for idiots, imbeciles, backward
have arrived even at the age of twenty- and eccentric children at Barre, under
five or thirty years, have been greatly the care of Dr. George Brown, being the
benefited, and, after two or three years' one originally founded by Dr. Wilbur ;
instruction, have left the institution with the New York State Asylum for Idiots,
as much intelligence, apparently, as most at Syracuse, of which Dr. Wilbur is the
of those in the same walk of life. This superintendent; a private school for
result is, and should be, a matter of idiots and imbeciles at Haerlem , N. Y.,
great gratification to the managers ; but under the care of Mr. J. B. Richards ;
it is hardly just to regard success in such the Pennsylvania Training School for
cases as cures of idiocy. The greater Idiots, at Germantown, Penn., under the
part of the admissions to the Royal In- care of Dr. Parish ; and an Experimen
stitution are from the pauper and poor tal School, recently organized, at Colum
laboring classes; and the simple substi- bus, Ohio, under an appropriation from
tution of wholesome and sufficient food the State legislature, presided over by
for a meagre and innutritious diet is Dr. Patterson. Of these, only the first
alone sufficient to effect a marked change
a
three have had an experience sufficient
in them. The greater part of the pupils ly long to offer any reliable results from
in that institution are instructed in some which the success of idiot instruction can
of the simpler mechanic arts, and the Re- be deduced.
ports assure us that they have generally The solution of the question, whether
acquired them with facility. the idiot can be elevated to the standard
There can be no question of the be- of mediocrity, physically and intellectu
nevolence of attempting the restoration ally, is not merely one of interest to the
VOL . J. 27
418 Cretins and Idiots. [ February,
psychologist, who seeks to ascertain the about fifty-two thousand idiots, and as
metes and bounds of the mental capacity many more imbeciles. At the lowest
of the race; it is also of paramount im- estimate, the cost of supporting this vast
portance to the political econ
onoinist , who army of the unfortunate, beyond the
wishes to determine the productive force trifling sum which a few of them may be
of the community, physical and intellec- able to earn , is more than ten millions of
tual ; it is of practical interest to the dollars per annum . Nor is this all , or
statesman , who seeks to know how large even the worst feature of their case . The
a proportion of the population are neces- greater part of them are without sense of
sarily dependent upon the state or indi- shame, without any notions of chastity or
viduals for their support ; it is a matter decency, and so weak in moral sense as
of pecuniary importance to the tax -pay- to be the ready tools and dupes of artful
er, who is naturally desirous of learning villains, and often themselves exhibit a
whether these drones in the hive, who perverseness and malignity of character
not only perform no labor themselves, which render them dangerous members
but require others to attend them , and of society. Their influence for evil, di
who often, also, from their imbecility, are rect and indirect, no man can estimate.
made the tools and dupes of others in The chaplains and other officers of our
the commission of crime, cannot be State prisons and penitentiaries will tes
transformed into producers instead of tify that a large proportion of the inmates
consumers, and become quiet and order- of those establishments, though not idiots,
ly citizens, instead of pests in the com- are weak -minded and imbecile ; and it
munity. is by no means a rare circumstance to
The statistics of idiocy are necessarily find persons, who should properly be un
imperfect. No United States census or der treatment as idiots, suffering the doom
State enumeration is at all reliable ; the of the felon .
idea of what constitutes idiocy is so very Under these circumstances, the ques
vague, that one census -taker would re- tion , What can be done with this unfor
port none, in a district where another tunate and helpless class ? becomes onc
might find twenty. It is very seldom the of great importance.
case that the friends or relatives of an A careful examination of the institu
idiot will admit that he is more than a tions for their training in this country
little eccentric ; many of the worst cases and Europe, and an extended inquiry
in the institutions for idiots were brought into their present condition when not
there by friends who protested that they under instruction, have enabled us to
were not idiots, but only a little singular arrive at the following conclusions.
in their habits. There is very little hope of any con
In Massachusetts, Connecticut, and siilerable perinanent improvement of the
Ohio, efforts have been made, by cor- iuliot, if not placed under training before
respondence with physicians and town his sixteenth year. His habits may, in
officers, to obtain data from which an deed, be somewhat amended , and the
approximate estimate might be attained. mind temporarily roused ; but this im
These efforts, though not so satisfactory as provement will seldom continue after he
could be desired, are yet sufficient to au- is removed from the institution.
thorize the conclusion that there are in The existence of severe epilepsy, or
those three States ( and probably the same other profound disease, is a serious bar to
figures would hold good for the rest of success.
the Union ) about one fifth of one per Of those not affected by epilepsy, who
cent. of the population who are idiots of are brought under instruction in child
low grade, and about the same number hood, from one third to one fourth may
who are of weak and imbecile intellect. be so far improved as to become capable
This would give us in the United States of performing the ordinary duties of life
1858. ] Amours de Voyage. 419

with tolerable fidelity and ability. They A small number, and as frequently,
may acquire sufficient knowledge to be perhaps, as otherwise, those apparently
able to read, to write, to understand the the most promising at entering, will make
elementary facts of geography, history, little or no progress. It cannot be pre
arithmctic they may be capable of dicted beforehand that such will be the
and ;
writing a passable letter ; they may ac- result of any case, for the most hopeless
quire a sufficient knowledge of farıning, at entering have often made decided ad
or of the mechanic arts, to be able to vancement ; but the fact remains, that
work well and faithfully under appro no methods of instruction yet adopted
priate supervision ; they may attain a will invariably develope the slumbering
sufficient knowledge of the government intellect, or strengthen and correct the
and laws under which they live , to be enfeebled or depraved will.
qualified to exercise the electoral fran- The institutions for the training of idiots
chise quite as well as many of those should be greatly multiplied, and should
who do exercise it ; they may make such have a department for awkward, eccen
advances in morals, as to act with jus- tric, and backward children. The meth
tice and honor toward their fellow -men, ods adopted would be of great benefit
and exhibit the influence of Christianity to these, and would often call into activ
in changing their degraded and way- ity intellects which might be useful in
ward natures to purity, chastity, and their proper spheres.
holiness. We regard this great movement for
A larger class, probably one half of the improvement of a class hitherto con
the whole, can be so much benefited , as sidered so hopeless, as one of the most
to become cleanly in their habits, quiet honorable and benevolent enterprises of
in their deportment, capable, perhaps, of our time. It is yet in its infancy ; but
reading and writing, but not of original we hope to see, ere many years have
composition, able to perform , with suit- passed, in every State of our Union , asy
able supervision, many kinds of work lums reared, where these waifs of hunan
which require little close thought, and , ity shall be gathered , and such training
under the care of friends, of becoming given them as may develope in the high
happy and useful. This class, if neglect- est degree possible the hitherto rudimen
ed after leaving the school, will be like- tary faculties of their minds, and render
to elapse into some of their carly them capable of performing, in some
habits, but if properly cared for, may humble measure , their part in the drama
continue to improve. of life.

AMOURS DE VOYAGE.
OA , you are sick of self- love, Malvolio .
And taste with a distein pered appetite !-SHAKSPEARE.
Il doutait de tout, même de l'amour. -FrExco NOVEL.
Solvitur ambulando . - SOLUTIO SOPHISMATUM .
Flevit annores
Non elaboratum ad pedem .-- HORACE.

Over the great windy waters, and over the clear crested summits,
Unto the sun and the sky, and unto the perfecter carth,
Come, let us go - to a land wherein gods of the old time wandered,
Where every breath even now changes to ether divine.
Come, let us go ; though withal a voice whisper, “ The world that we live in,
Whithersoever we turn, still is the same narrow crib ;
420 Amours de Voyage. [ February,
' Tis but to prove limitation, and measure a cord, that we travel;
Let who would 'scape and be free go to his chamber and think ;
Tis but to change idle fancies for memories wilfully falser;
' Tis but to go and have been .” — Come, little bark, let us go !
7

I. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
Dear Eustatio , I write that you may write me an answer,
Or at the least to put us en rapport with each other.
Rome disappoints me much - St. Peter's, perhaps, in especial ;
Only the Arch of Titus and view from the Lateran please me :
This, however, perhaps, is the weather, which truly is horrid.
Greece must be better, surely ; and yet I am feeling so spiteful,
That I could travel to Athens, to Delphi, and Troy, and Mount Sinai,
Though but to see with my eyes that these are vanity also.
Rome disappoints me much ; I hardly as yet understand, but
Rubbishy seems the word that most exactly would suit it.
All the foolish destructions, and all the sillier savings,
All the incongruous things of past incompatible ages,
Seem to be treasured up here to make fools of present and future .
Would to Heaven the old Goths had made a cleaner sweep of it !
Would to Heaven some new ones would come and destroy me these churches !
However, one can live in Rome as also in London .
Rome is better than London , because it is other than London.
It is a blessing, no doubt, to be rid, at least for a time, of
a

All one's friends and relations,-yourself ( forgive me !) included , -

All the assujettissement of having been what one has been ,
What one thinks one is, or thinks that others suppose one ;
Yet, in despite of all , we turn like fools to the English.
Vernon has been my fate ; who is here the same that you knew him , —
Making the tour, it seems, with friends of the name of Trevellyn.

II.- CLAUDE TO Eustace.

Rome disappoints me still ; but I shrink and adapt myself to it.

Somehow a tyrannous sense of a superincumbent oppression
Still, wherever I go, accompanies ever, and makes me
Feel like a tree (shall I say ?) buried under aa ruin of brick-work.
Rome, believe me, my friend, is like its own Monte Testaceo,
Merely a marvellous mass of broken and castaway wine-pots.
Ye gods! what do I want with this rubbish of ages departed,
Things that Nature abhors, the experiments that she has failed in ?
What do I think of the Forum ? An archway and two or three pillars.
Well, but St. Peter's ? Alas, Bernini has filled it with sculpture !
No one can cavil, I grant, at the size of the great Coliseum .
Doubtless the notion of grand and capacious and massive amusement,
This the old Romans had ; but tell me, is this an idea ?
Yet of solidity much , but of splendor little is extant :
“ Brickwork I found thee, and marble I left thee ! ” their Emperor vaunted ;
“ Marble I thought thee, and brickwork I find thee ! " the Tourist may answer
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 421

II. - GEORGINA TREVELLYN TO LOUISA

Ar last, dearest Louisa, I take up my pen to address you.
Here we are, you see, with the seven -and -seventy boxes,
Courier, Papa and Mamma, the children, and Mary and Susan :
Here we all are at Rome, and delighted of course with St. Peter's,
And very pleasantly lodged in the famous Piazza di Spagna.
Rome is a wonderful place, but Mary shall tell you about it ;
Not very gay, however; the English are mostly at Naples ;
There are the A.s, we hear, and most of the W. party.
George, however, is come ; did I tell you about his mustachios ?
Dear, I must really stop, for the carriage, they tell me, is waiting.
Mary will finish ; and Susan is writing, they say, to Sophia.
Adieu, dearest Louise, -evermore your faithful Georgina.
Who can a Mr. Claude be whom George has taken to be with ?
Very stupid, I think, but George says so very clever.

IV. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE .

No, the Christian faith, as at any rate I understood it,
With its humiliations and exaltations combining,
Exaltations sublime, and yet diviner abasements,
Aspirations from something most shameful here upon earth and
In our poor selves to something most perfect above in the heavens,
No, the Christian faith, as I, at least, unde rstood it,
Is not here, O Rome, in any of these thy churches ;
Is not here, but in Freiberg, or Rheims, or Westininster Abbey.
What in thy Dome I find, in all thy recenter efforts,
Is a something, I think, more rational far, more earthly,
9

Actual, less ideal, devout not in scorn and refusal,

But in a positive, calm , Stoic -Epicurean acceptance.
This I begin to detect in St. Peter's and some of the churches,
Mostly in all that I see of the sixteenth -century masters ;
Overlaid of course with infinite gauds and gewgaws,
Innocent, playful follies, the toys and trinkets of childhood ,
Forced on maturer years, as the serious one thing essential,
ess
By the barbarian will of the rigid and ignorant Spaniard.

V. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
LUTHER, they say, was unwise ; like a half-taught German , he could not
See that old follies were passing most tranquilly out of remembrance;
Leo the Tenth was employing all efforts to clear out abuses ;
Jupiter, Juno, and Venus, Fine Arts, and Fine Letters, the Poets,
Scholars, and Sculptors, and Painters, were quietly clearing away the
Martyrs, and Virgins, and Saints, or at any rate Thomas Aquinas.
He must forsooth make aa fuss and distend his huge Wittenberg lungs, and
Bring back Theology once yet again in aa flood upon Europe :
Lo, you, for forty days from the windows of heaven it fell; the
Waters prevail on the earth yet more for aa hundred and fifty ;
Are they abating at last ? The doves that are sent to explore arc
Wearily fain to return , at the best with aa leaflet of promise ,
Fain to return , as they went to the wandering wave -tost vessel,
422 Amours de Voyage. [ February ,
Fain to reënter the roof which covers the clean and the unclean.
Luther, they say, was unwise ; he didn't see how things were going ;
Luther was foolish ,—but, O great God ! what call you Ignatius ?
O my tolerant soul, be still! but you talk of barbarians,
Alaric, Attila, Genseric ;—why, they came, they killed, they
Ravaged, and went on their way ; but these vile, tyrannous Spaniards,
These are here still, —how long, O ye Heavens, in the country of Dante ?
These, that fanaticized Europe, which now can forget them , release not
This, their choicest of prey, this Italy ; here you can see them ,
Here, with emasculate pupils and gimcrack churches of Gesu,
Pseudo-learning and lies, confessional-boxes and postures ,
Here, with metallic beliefs and regimental devotions ,
Here, overcrusting with shame, perverting, defacing, debasing,
Michael Angelo's dome, that had hung the Pantheon in heaven,
Raphael's Joys and Graces, and thy clear stars, Galileo !

VI. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Which of three Misses Trevellyn it is that Vernon shall marry
Is not a thing to be known ; for our friend's is one of those natures
Which have their perfect delight in the general tender-domestic,
So that he trifles with Mary's shawl, ties Susan's bonnet,
Dances with all, but at home is most, they say, with Georgina,
Who is, however, too silly in my apprehension for Vernon.
I, as before when I wrote, continue to see them a little ;
Not that I like them so much, or care a bajocco for Vernon ,
But I ain slow at Italian, have not many English acquaintance,
And I am asked, in short, and am not good at excuses.
Middle-class people these, bankers very likely, not wholly
Pure of the taint of the shop ; will at table d'hôte and restaurant
Have their shilling's worth, their penny's pennyworth even :
Neither man's aristocracy this, nor God's, God knoweth !
Yet they are fairly descended, they give you to know, well connected ;
Doubtless somewhere in some neighborhood have, and careful to keep, some
Threadbare-genteel relations, who in their turn are enchanted
Grandly among county people to introduce at assemblies
To the unpennied cadets our cousins with excellent fortunes.
Neither man's aristocracy this, nor God's, God knoweth !

VII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Ah, what a shame, indeed, to abuse these most worthy people !
Ah, what a sin to have sneered at their innocent rustic pretensions !
Is it not laudable really, this reverent worship of station ?
Is it not fitting that wealth should tender this homage to culture ?
Is it not touching to witness these efforts, if little availing,
Painfully made, to perform the old ritual service of manners ?
Shall not devotion atone for the absence of knowledge ? and fervor
Palliate, cover, the fault of a superstitious observance ?
Dear, dear, what have I said ? but, alas, just now , like Iago,
I can be nothing at all, if it is not critical wholly ;
So in fantastic height, in coxcomb exaltation,
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 423

Here in the Garden I walk , can frecly concede to the Maker

That the works of his hand are all very good : his creatures,
Beast of the field and fowl, he brings them before me; I name them ;
That which I name them, they are,—the bird, the beast, and the cattle.
But for Adam , -alas, poor critical coxcomb Adain !
But for Adam there is not found an help -meet for him.
VIII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
No, great Dome of Agrippa, thou art not Christian ! canst not,
Strip and replaster and daub and do what they will with thee, be so !
Here underneath the great porch of colossal Corinthian columns,
Here as I walk, do I dream of the Christian belfries above them ;
Or on a bench as I sit and abide for long hours, till thy whole vast
Round grows dim as in dreams to my eyes, I repeople thy niches,
Not with the Martyrs, and Saints, and Confessors, and Virgins, and children ,
But with the mightier forms of an older, austerer worship ;
And I recite to myself, how
Eager for battle here
Stood Vulcan, here inatronal Juno,
And with the bow to his shoulder faithful
He who with pure dew laveth of Castaly
His flowing locks, who holdeth of Lycia
The oak forest and the wood that bore him,
Delos and Patara's own Apollo .*

IX. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Yet it is pleasant, I own it, to be in their company ; pleasant,
Whatever else it may be, to abide in the feminine presence.
Pleasant, but wrong, will you say ? But this happy, serene coexistence
Is to some poor soft souls, I fear, a necessity simple,
Meat and drink and life, and music, filling with sweetness,
Thrilling with melody sweet, with harmonies strange overwhelming,
All the long-silent strings of an awkward , meaningless fabric.
Yet as for that, I could live, I believe, with children ; to have those
Pure and delicate forins encompassing, moving about you,
This were enough, I could think ; and truly with glad resignation
Could from the dream of romance , from the fover of flushed adolescence,
Look to escape and subside into peaceful avuncular functions.
Nephews and nieces ! alas, for as yet II have none ! and, moreover,
Mothers are jealous, I fear me, too often, too rightfully ; fathers
Think they have title exclusive to spoiling their own little darlings;
And by the law of the land, in despite of Malthusian doctrine,
No sort of proper provision is made for that most patriotic,
Most meritorious subject, the childless and bachelor uncle.
Hic avidus stetit
Vulcanus, hic matrona Juno, et
Nunquam humero positurus arcum,
Qui rore puro Castaliæ lavat
Crines solutos, qui Lyciæ tenet
Dumeta natalemque sylvam,
Delius et Patareus Apollo.
424 Amours de Voyage. [ February,
X. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
-

YE, too, marvellous Twain, that erect on the Monte Cavallo

Stand by your rearing steeds in the grace of your motionless movement,
Stand with your upstretched arms and tranquil regardant faces,
Stand as instinct with life in the might of immutable manhood , -
O ye mighty and strange, ye ancient divine ones of Hellas,
Are ye Christian too ? to convert and redeem and renew you ,
Will the brief form have sufficed, that a Pope has set up on the apex
Of the Egyptian stone that o'ertops you the Christian symbol ?
And ye, silent, supreme in serene and victorious marble,
Yo that encircle the walls of the stately Vatican chambers,
Juno and Ceres, Minerva, Apollo, the Muses and Bacchus,
Ye unto whom far and near come posting the Christian pilgrims,
Ye that are ranged in the halls of the mystic Christian pontiff,
Are ye also baptized ? are ye of the Kinglom of Heaven ?
Utter, O some one, the word that shall reconcile Ancient and Modern !
Am I to turn me for this unto thee, great Chapel of Sixtus ?

XI. - CLAUDE to EUSTACE.

-

These are the facts. The uncle, the elder brother, the squire, (a
Little embarrassed, I fancy,) resides in a family place in
Cornwall, of course . " Papa is in business ,” Mary informs me;
He's a good sensible man, whatever his trade is. The mother
Is - shall I call it fine ?-herself she would tell you refined , and
Greatly, I fear me, looks down on my bookish and maladroit manners ;
Somewhat affecteth the blue ; would talk to me often of poets;
Quotes, which I hate, Childe Harold ; but also appreciates Wordsworth ;
Sometimes adventures on Schiller ; and then to religion diverges;
Questions me much about Oxford ; and yet, in her loftiest flights, still
Grates the fastidious ear with the slightly mercantile accent.

Is it contemptible, Eustace, I'm perfectly ready to think so,

Is it,—the horrible pleasure of pleasing inferior people ?
I am ashamed my own self ; and yet true it is, if disgraceful,
That for the first time in life I am living and moving with freedom .
I, who never could talk to the people I meet with my uncle ,
I, who have always failed , --1, trust me, can suit the Trevellyns ;
I, believe me, -great conquest,—am liked by the country bankers.
And I am glad to be liked , and like in return very kindly.
So it proceeds; Laissez faire, laissez aller , -- such is the watchword .
Well, I know there are thousands as pretty and hundreds as pleasant,
Girls by the dozen as good, and girls in abundance with polish
Higher and manners more perfect than Susan or Mary Trevellyn.
Well , I know, after all, it is only juxtaposition ,
Juxtaposition, in short; and what is juxtaposition ?

XII . - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

But I am in for it now ,-laissez faire, of aa truth, laissez aller.
Yes, I am going, I feel it, I feel and cannot recall it,
Fusing with this thing and that, entering into all sorts of relations,
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 425

Tying I know not what ties, which, whatever they are,I know one thing,
Will and must, woe is me, be one day painfully broken ,
Broken with painful remorses, with shrinkings of soul, and relentings,
Foolish delays, more foolish evasions, most foolish renewals.
But I am in for it now , I have quitted the ship of Uiysses;
Yet on my lips is the moly, medicinal, offered of Hermes.
I have passed into the precinct, the labyrinth closes around me,
Path into path rounding slyly ; I pace slowly on , and the fancy,
Struggling awhile to sustain the long sequences, weary, bewildered ,
Fain must collapse in despair ; I yield , I am lost and know nothing;
Yet in my bosom unbroken remaineth the clue ; I shall use it.
Lo, with the rope on my loins I descend through the fissure; I sink, yet
Inly secure in the strength of invisible arms up above me ;
Still, wheresoever I swing, wherever to shore, or to shelf, or
Floor of cavern untrodden, shell -sprinkled, enchanting, I know I
Yet shall one time feel the strong cord tighten about me, -
Feel it, relentless, upbear me from spots I would rest in ; and though the
Rope sway wildly, I faint, crags wound me, from crag unto crag re
Bounding, or, wide in the void, I die ten deaths ere the end, I
Yet shall plant firm foot on the broad lofty spaces I quit, shall
Feel underneath me again the great massy strengths of abstraction,
Look yet abroad from the height o'er the sea whose salt wave I have tasted .

XIII. - GEORGINA TREVELLYN TO LOUISA

DEAREST LOUISA , —Inquire, if you please, about Mr. Claude
He has been once at R., and remembers meeting the H.s.
Harriet L., perhaps, may be able to tell you about him .
It is an awkward youth, but still with very good manners ;
Not without prospects, we hear ; and, George says, highly connected .
Georgy declares it absurd , but Mamma is alarmed and insists he has
Taken up strange opinions and may be turning a Papist.
Certainly once he spoke of a daily servic he went to .
“ Where ? ” we asked, and he laughed and answered, “ At the Pantheon . "
This was a temple, you know , and now is a Catholic church ; and
Though it is said that Mazzini has sold it for Protestant service,
Yet I suppose the change can hardly as yet be effected.
Adieu again ,-evermore, my dearest, your loving Georgina.

P. S. BY MARY TREVELLYN .
I AM to tell you, you say, what I think of our last new acquaintance.
Well, then , I think that George has a very fair right to be jealous.
I do not like him much, though I do not dislike being with him .
He is what people call, I suppose, a superior man, and
Certainly seems so to me ; but I think he is frightfully selfish .

ALBA , thou findest me still, and, Alba, thou findest me ever,

Now from the Capitol steps, now over Titus's Arch,
Here from the large grassy spaces that spread from the Lateran portal,
Towering o'er aqueduct lines lost in perspective between,
 426
My Aquarium [ February,
Or from a Vatican window , or bridge, or the high Coliseum ,
Clear by the garlanded line cut of the Flavian ring.
Beautiful can I not call thee, and yet thou hast power to o'ermaster,
Power of mere beauty ; in dreams, Alba, thou hauntest me still.
Is it religion ? I ask me ; or is it a vain superstition ?
Slavery abject and gross ? service, too feeble, of truth ?
Is it an idol I bow to, or is it a god that I worship ?
Do I sink back on the old, or do I soar from the mean ?
So through the city I wander and question, unsatisfied ever,
Reverent so I accept, doubtful because I revere.
[To be continued . ]

MY AQUARIUM.
On the tenth of May, 1857, I became Ten Buccina were first put in possession,
the glad possessor of a tank capable of in the hope that they would perform the
holding thirteen or fourteen gallons of part of gardeners to the young plants.
water. Its substantial frame of well- On the sixth day, seven Actiniæ were
seasoned oak, its stout plank bottom , disposed upon the rock -work. On the
lavishly covered with cement, promised seventh, a Horsefoot (or, as our Southern
to resist alike the heat and dryness from neighbors call it, a King -Crab, though
without and the wet within. The sides of most unregal aspect) was allowed to
and ends, of double flint-glass, seemed make his burrow in the sand. On the
to invite the eye across their clearness. eighth day, four Hermit and Soldier
Its chosen site was at a south window, Crabs and two Sand -Crabs were invited
SO shaded by a wing of the house as to choose their several retreats. On the
to receive only the morning sun for ninth, three fine Sticklebacks and three
about two hours ; and clustering vines Minnows were made free of the mimic
overhung the window, so that the beams ocean ; and on the tenth, an Eel and two
fell in checkered light. All was now Prawns.
ready. All seemed well until the evening of
A few fragments of white quartz were the twelfth day, when a small white cloud
arranged in rude imitation of occan re- was seen rising from the bottom . The
cesses, and in their fissures were placed spot was searched for some dead member
four or five small plants of Enteromor- of the new colony ; but none was found,
pha and Corallina. Sand was strewn either there, or in any other part of the
upon the bottom , to the depth of two tank.
inches, and ten gallons of sea -water wereSupposing that the impure gas might
then poured in. This had been brought be generated by the decay of minute
from one of the wharves, at high tide, creatures congregated in the cloudy cor
twenty -four hours previously, and twice ner, a lump of charcoal was tied to a
drawn off with a siphon,-each time after stone and sunk upon the spot. Next
twelve hours' rest. It was not, however, morning, the cloud had cleared from
perfectly translucent, and at the end of a around the charcoal, but slender wreaths
week was still cloudy. On the fifth day of similar appearance were rapidly rising
after the tank was filled, I began to in- from the sand in every other part of the
troduce the animals to their future home. Aquarium . The fishes came oftener to
1858.] My Aquarium. 427

the surface than they were wont, and all the tank had been covered with many
the animals had lost vigor. coats of an alcoholic varnish. Now it
Aëration was resorted to, which was was probable that time enough had not
performed by dipping up the water, and elapsed between the several applications
pouring it back in a thin stream from a for the thorough evaporation of the alco
height of several feet, continuing the op- hol. Might not its gradual infusion in the
eration for ten minutes. This was re- water have caused the death of the ani
peated four or five times during the day, malvula in such nunibers as to taint the
and at night more charcoal was added . whole by their decay ?
Some of the pieces were sunk to the bot- The second fault was, strewing upon
tom , and others were suspended at differs the surface of the sand aa handful or two
ent depths in the water. of white powdered quartz, which , from
Two or three days passed in this having been pulverized in an iron mor
way, - the putrescence kept in check tar, was so oxydized as to turn a deep
by the means uscd, but not entirely yellow. This might have poisoned the
overcome. Meantime, though none of animalcula.
the stock had died, there was less vi- The first fault seemed to me the chief,
tality than at first; especially each morn- but I proceeded to remedy both. The
ing, after seven or eight hours unaided whole contents of the tank being removed,
by acration . it was thoroughly washed on the inside,
Tired of what seemed an ineffectual exposed for several days to the sun and
struggle, I determined to leave the Aqua- air, and then soaked for twelve hours
rium untouched for a day, and await the in clean sea -water. This being thrown
result. Accordingly, the charcoal was away ,the stones, scalded and well -washed,
withdrawn and aëration discontinued. were restored, and clean sand replaced
The milky cloud increased in density, the old .
and the whole mass of water became Water was drawn from the dock at
turbid . The fishes kept constantly near high tide; but it was less clear now, on
the surface, swam languidly, and snatched the fourth of June, than that which bad
mouthfuls of atmospheric air. The Ecl been got early in May. This surprised
became bloodshot about the gills, and, me not a little ; for, as I stood upon the
writhing, gasped for breath . The Sol- wharf and looked down into it just before
dier - Crabs hung listlessly from their shells , sunset on the previous evening , I was
and no longer went about in quest of struck with its beautiful limpidity. Cu
food . Even the Actiniæ shrunk to half rious to see if its aspect remained un
their former size ; and the Buccina, crawl- altered , I went to the same spot where
ing above the water, ranged themselves I had stood the night before. The tide
in a row upon the dry glass. was at the same height, but twelve hours
Disappointed, but not discouraged, I had made a marvellous change in the
filled several shallow pans with pure seaappearance of the water. Its sparkling
water, clean sand, and fresh plants, and clearness had given way to greenness and
transferred to them my suffering and turbidity, and no object could be seen a
wellnigh exhausted animals. A day re- foot below the surface. No storm had
stored them to their norinal condition, stirred its depths during the night,—why
and now I was ready to begin my Aqua- this change ? Conjecture wasof no prac
rium anew. tical utility, and I returned home satisfied
But to what purpose should I begin that my fifteen gallons of water were as
anew ? Would there not be the same clear as any it was then in my power to
failure ? What had been wrong ? obtain . Covering the tub from the dust,
At least two great faults were evident. I left it to settle until sunset. Then the
First, in order to guard against the possi- ever - useful siphon drew off' two thirds of
bility of aa leak, the bottom and posts of it tolerably clear, leaving a thick green
428 My Aquarium . [ February,
deposit upon the sides and bottom of the ful Aquarium was transformed to an un
vessel. Next day, it was again drawn sightly ditch.
off from the sediinent, (at this tiine, small Yet the water was apparently pure,
in quantity,) and poured into the tank. and the activity of its inhabitants was in
Several newly obtained plants of well- no wise lessened. What was this vexa
growing Erteromorpha and Corallina tious greenness ? Was it animal or vege
were arranged among the stones, and the table ? Was it the diffused spores of the
Aquarium was left at rest. Gradually perfected Enteromorpha or of the rank
the water became nearly clear, but not Confervæ upon the stones ? If neither,
perfectly so until after the introduction what was its cause ?
of animals. Excess of light was the most obvious
Eight days after it was filled, the Ac- suggestion ; and so it was supposed that
tiniæ were put in ; on the ninth, several its exclusion might be a potent remedy.
small Mollusks; on the tenth, Crustacea ; Therefore a double curtain of glazed
and on the eleventh and twelfth, other muslin was stretched across the window ;
varieties of the same types ; but not until and the tank, both top and sides, wrapped
the fourteenth day were fishes ventured in folds of paper. A week of darkness
upon . changed the deep green to a dingy olive
Day by day the water grew clearer But the experiment could not be con
and clearer, until, at the end of three tinued . The nightly admission of air by
weeks, it was beautifully translucent. lifting the paper covering was insufficient
Three more weeks passed, during which to maintain the imprisoned creatures.
the beauty of the Aquarium was much They were happy, though captive, while
heightened by a luxuriant growth of Con- in a mimic ocean, but miserable in a
fervæ mingled with Enteromorpha, which dark dungeon. Languid and spiritless,
together covered all those parts of the they lay supine, or crawled listlessly and
stones which received a direct light. aimlessly about. This would not do, and
The mimic rocks seemed draped in so light was again admitted freely to all
green velvet, and in the sunlight were but one side of the tank ; there, a screen
studded with pearly bubbles. There of yellow paper intercepted the direct
was, however, one blemish : the hungry rays of the sun, while upon the top they
crabs had so nibbled the larger plants fell through the foliage of a Clematis
that it was deemed necessary to renew vine .
them , in order to secure a sufficient sup- Three weeks more wrought a slight
ply of food and oxygen. Accordingly, a change for the better; but it was too
fine specimen of Enteromorpha was ad- slight and too slow for my patience, or
ded. It consisted of five or six delicatethat of curious friends waiting to see my
fronds about five inches in length, and Aquarium .
these soon increased to treble their orig- The second experiment had failed, and
inal number and twice their original size. 80 once more the tank was emptied.
At the end of about two weeks, they sud- Two or three animals only had died ;
denly became covered with aa dull bluish all the others gave evidence of health.
mould, at the same time ceasing to give Again they were removed to other ves
out bubbles; and the whole plant, instead sels, and again I began anew.
of rising to the surface of the water as Clean sand, clean stones, water drawn
hitherto, hung limp from the fissure where at high tide and carefully decanted, three
it was placed, and trailed upon the sand. small plants of Ulva Latissima, with one
Coincidently, (was it consequently ?) a clump of Corallina Officinalis, made up
greenish tinge pervaded the water, speed- the contents of the tank, when, on the
ily increasing in depth and opacity. In tenth of August, it was the third time filled .
five days, no object could be discerned A sheet of yellow paper was placed be
six inches from the glass, and my beauti- tween the tank and the window, and it
1858.] My Aquarium . 429

was left three days at rest. At the end tigued by the unusual effort. Very be
of that time, the water, which was beauti- coming is the new costume ; and the red
fully clear when introduced , had grown a coat is prettily relieved by the gray tint
little hazy, and, as the sunbeams fell aslant of his Diogenes-like dwelling.
it, the unaided eye could perceive a mul- There goes a military cousin of his,
titude of minute whitish creatures darting striding along with his heavy armor
forward and backward like a swarm of clattering against the glass as he walks.
bees. Then five Actiniæ were laid upon A pugnacious fellow is that same soldier ;
the rocks, to which they at once adhered, and if he meet an opponent, you may
spreading out their restless tentacles in see the tug of war. Should he chance
busy seizure of the tiny prey . In a to prefer the other's shield to his own, he
week more the forgy appearance had will seize him in his burly arms, and
ceased ; but the clearness of the water shake him from under its protection.
was marred by the slimy exudations from Yet he is cautious withal; for though
the Actiniæ . Knowing that this matter obliged to doff his own armor before he
was eaten by some of the Crustacea, five can try that of his denuded foe, he
or six small Soldier -Crabs were dropped retains hold of both until satisfied with
in, which faithfully performed their allot- the trial. If he like the new mail, he
ted labor. From this time, animals were will march off with it ; if not, he will ar
added daily, until they had reached to ray hinself in his own again. Mean
thirty in number. On the fifteenth of while the vanquished combatant waits
September, a fine specimen of brown tremblingly the result of the examina
Chondrus Crispus was added , and on the tion, glad to get possession of the reject
thirtieth, a very large frond of Ulva La- ed defence, be it which it may.
tissima. A great portion of the Chon- Yon dark little crab , with the bulky
drus decayed at its junction with the claws so gayly mottled with yellow and
shell on which it grew , and fell off; but black, lurks in that hole at the base of
the Ulva increased much in size, as well the cliff nearly all day long. His name
as in depth of color and firmness of text- is 'Possum ; for at the slightest sign of
ure . danger he doubles up his claws like a
And now months have gone by, and dead spider, and lies in feigned lifeless
at last my Aquarium is successful. Fifty ness.

lively denizens now sport in the crystal- Speaking of spiders, — here are two
line water and come at the daily roll- Spider -Crabs, the very monkeys of this
call. Come with me and I will introduce aqueous menagerie. The small one
them to you. A fig for scientific nomen- climbing the post is Topsy. There she
clature ! you shall know them by their is, sliding down again, and with head
household names . long pace is now scampering over yon
This Bernhard Crab in the front, so yieldiny Anemone. Heedless of its hun
leisurely pushing away the sand before dred arms, so generally dreaded and
him with his broad, flat claws, quietly en- avoided, she jumps this way and that
joys the meal he finds, undisturbed by across its wide mouth ; and now, seated
fears of a failing supply. There is less on its back , she snatches morsels from
of enterprise than complacency in his its shrinking side. Now look at her
character, and I call him Micawber, for sister sprite, Crazy Kate. Her head
he is always expecting " something to adorned with a long plume of Coralline,
turn up.” Twice since March has he she is tearing ribbon -like shreds from
changed his coat, and thrown off his the silky lettuce and hanging them upon
tight boots and gloves for new ones. The her already fantastic person. Anon she
disrobing seemed to give him little trou- dances in mad glee, and next her arms
ble, though he sat dozing at the door of are solemnly stretched' upward in gro
his cell some hours after, as though fa- tesque similitude to one in prayer.
430 My Aquarium . [ February,
When she is hungry, she will, one by Ah, you should have seen my Amphi
one, take off those weedy trophies from trite ! She bore her plumy crown so
her back and feed upon them . grandly, you would have said she was
Why do you start ? That is not a indeed the queen of Actiniæ . But,
sea -serpent winding froin under the alas ! she could not brook imprison
arch, but only an innocent Eel. Yet in- ment, and, pining for the unwalled grot
nocent and tiny though it be, there is toes of Poseidon , she drooped and died.
something frightful about it. Its fixed, Behind that sheltering rock, and over
staring eye, its snake -like stealthiness, hung with sea -weed, there is a dark,
bid you be on your guaril . Sometimes deep cave, the chosen abode of Giant
it rises behind that bushy Carrageen, Grim . Push one of those soldiers to the
and with high uplifted head peers over mouth of the den and wait the result.
at me in such a way that I am half At the first movement made by the un
afraid ; it is so like the old pictures of witting trespasser on guarded ground,
Satan tempting Eve. two long, flexile rods are thrust out,
Would you like to see an Actinia cat ? reconnoitring right and left. Two huge
I will drop a bit of raw oyster upon its claws follow, lighted up by two great
outspread disk . See with what eager glaring eyes. At last the whole creature
start it closes its fingers about the dainty emerges, seizes the intruder, and bears
viand, passing it along slowly , but surely, him swiftly away, far beyond his jeal
to its now gaping mouth, while everyously kept premises. With dogged mien
nerve is vibrating with the anticipated he stalks gravely back to his stronghold.
pleasure of the feast ! That milk-white You exclaim , “ It is aa Lobster ! ” A lob
one is my favorite, and I call it Una. ster truly ; but saw you ever a lobster
Seated in modest contentment on that with such presence before ? Does he
brown - stone seat, she upturns her pure resemble the poor bewildered crusta
face to the mill light of cvening ; but ccans you have seen bunched together
folds her arms, and bows her head, and at a fish -stall ? Bears he any likeness
veils herself, when the noon-day sun to the innocent- looking edibles you have
gazes too ardently upon her. seen lying on a dish, by boiling turned,
This one in the rich salmon -colored like the morn, from black to red ?
robe has all our national propensity for Those ghost-like Prawns are ncar rela
travelling. Wandering restlessly about, tives of the giant. Sec them , gliding so
she never remains two days on the gracefully from under the arc'h, disap
same spot. Yesterday, she climbed the pearing under the waring Ulva, and
clif, and sat looking off upon the water floating into sight again from behind the
nearly all day long. To-day, she has cliff.At night, if you look at them
come down to the sand , where, with base athwart a lighted candle, their eyes are
distended , as if in caricature of crino- seen to glow like living rubies. As they
line, she perambulates the crowded thor- row silently and swiftly towards you,
oughfare. you might fancy each a fairy gondola,
Here is аa semi-twin , one base and two with gem -lighted prow.
trunks. Shall I call it Janus, for its two A quick dashing start !es you, and you
faces ? or will Chang -and-Eng best dis- sce a Scallop rising to the top of the
tinguish this dual unit ? Sometimes, water with zigzag jerks, and immediate
one, with tentacles in -tucked and mouth ly sinking to the sand again, on the
sealed, seems dlozing ; while his waking side opposite that whence it started .
brother is busily waving his arms for There it rests with expanded branchiæ
food . At another time, you may see and moving cilia ; a rude passer-by jos
them both folded together in sleep, like tles it, and with startled sensitiveness it
the Babes in the Woods all bestrewn shrinks from the outer world and hides
with leaves. behind a stony mask .
1858.] The Queen of the Red Chessmen . 431

The small, grecnish, rough -coated crea-indoor sca, day by day, and learn to love
ture, so like a flattened burr, is an its people. Many a lesson for good have
Echinus. It is hardly domiciliated, being they taught me. When weary and dis
a new-comer, and creeps restlessly across heartened, the patient perseverance of
the glass. these undoubting beings has giren me
Under this sand -mound some one lies new impulses upward and onward . Re
self-buried,—not dead, but only hiding membering that their sole guide is in
from the crowd in this bustling watering- stinct, while mine is the voice behind
place. He must learn that there is no me, saying, “ This is the way," I have
lasting retirement in Newport; so tap risen with new resolve to walk therein.
with a stick at his lodging. With anger Seeing the blind persistency with which
vexed, forth rushes the Swimming-Crab some straying zoophyte has refused to
and dashes away from the unwelcome follow other counsel than its own, I have
visitor. As if he knew a bore to be the learned that self- reliance and strength
most persistent of hunters, he plies his of will are not, in higher natures, virtues
paddles with rapid beat until far from for gratulation, but, if unsanctified, faults
his invaded chamber. His swimming is to blush for. Finding cach creature here
more like the Auttering of a butterfly so fitted with organs and instincts for the
than the steady poise of a fish. Pretty life it was meant to lead, I have con
as is his variegated coat by day, it is far sidered that to me also is given all that
more beautiful by night ; then his limbs I ought to wish, more than I have ever
shine with metallic lustre, and every rightly used .
joint seems tinged with molten gold. New evidences are here disclosed to
I could spend the day in showing me of God's care for his creation, deep
you my Aquarium ; — the merry antics ening my faith in the fact that he is not
of the blithe Minnows; the slow wheel- merely the great First Cause, but still the
ing of the less vivacious Sticklebacks; watchful Father. New revelations teach
the beautiful siphon of the Quahang and me of his sympathy in our joys, as well
the Clam ; the starry disk of the Ser- as of his care for our necessities. The
pula ; the snug tent of the Limpet; Maker's love of the beautiful fills me with
the lithe proboscis of the busy Buccinum ; glailness, and I catch new glimpses of
the erect and rapid march of his little those boundless regions where the per
flesh - tinted cousin ; the slow Horsefoot, fection of his conceptions has never been
balancing his huge umbrella as he goes ; marrel hy sin ; and where cach of us
the But I cannot name them all. who may attain thereto shall find a fit
Neither could you learn to know them ting sphere for every cnergy, an an
at a single visit. Come and sit by this swering joy for every pure aspiration.

TIIE QUEEN OF THE RED CHESSMEN .

The box of chessmen had been left because the house is surrounded by wil
open all night. That was a great over- lows, but because a little clump of them
sight ! For everybody knows that the hangs over the pond close hy. It is a
contending chessmen are but too eager pretty place, with its broadl lawn in front
to fight their battles over again by mid- of the door-way, its winding avenue hid
night, if a chance is only allowed them. den from the road by high trees. It is
It was at the Willows,—so called, not a quiet place, too ; the sun rests gently
432 The Queen of the Red Chessmen . [ February,
on the green lawn, and the drooping shelter under cover of his castles, while
leaves of the willows haug heavily over his more energetic mother went forth at
the water. the head of his army. She was dreaded
No one would imagine what violent by her subjects,-never loved by them.
contests were going on under the still Her own pawn, it is true, had ventured
roof, this very night. It was the night much for her sake, had often with his
of the first of May. The moon came own life redeemed her from captivity ;
silently out from the shadows; the trees but it was loyalty that bound even him ,
were scarcely stirring. The box of -no warmer feeling of devotion or love.
chessmen had been left on the balcony The Queen Isabella was the first to
steps by the drawing -room window, and come out from her prison.
the window , too, that warm night, had “ I will stay here no longer, ” she cried ;
been left open . So, one by one, all the “ the blood of the Reds grows pale in
chessmen came out to fight over again this inactivity .”
their evening's battles. She stood upon the marble steps ; the
It was a famously carved set of chess- May moon shone down upon her. She
men. The bishops wore their mitres, listened a moment to a slight murmur
the knights pranced on spirited steeds, ing within the drawing -room window.
the castles rested on the backs of ele- The Spanish lady, the Murillo -painter
phants,-even the pawns mimicked the Spanish lady, had come down from her
private soldiers of an army. The skil- frame that bound her against the wall.
ful carver had given to each piece, and Just for this one night in the year, she
each pawn , too, a certain individuality. stepped out from the canvas to walk
That night there had been a close con- up and down the rooms majestically.
test. Two well-matched players had She would not exchange a word with
guided the game, and it had ended with anybody; nobody understood her lan
leaving a deep irritation on the con- guage. She could remember when Mu
quered side. rillo looked at her, watched over her,
It was Isabella, the Queen of the Red created her with his pencil. She could
Chessmen , who had been obliged to have nothing to say to little paltry shep
yield. She was young and proud, and it herlesses, and other articles of rirtù,
was she, indeed , who held the rule ; for that came into grace and motion just at
her father, the old Red King, had grown this moment.
too imbecile to direct affairs; he merely The Queen of the Red Chessmen
bore the name of sovereignty. And turned away, down into the avenue.
Isabella was loved by knights, pawns, The May moon shone upon her. Her
and all ; the bishops were willing to die fect trod upon unaccustomed ground ;
in her cause , the castles would have no black or white square benmed her
crumbled to carth for her. Opposed to in ; she felt a new liberty.
her, stood the detested White Queen. • My poor old father ! ” she exclaimed,
All the Whites, of course, were despised " I will leave him behind ; better let him
by her ; but the haughty, self-sufficient slumber in an ignoble repose than wan
queen angered her most. der over the boaril, a laughing -stock for
The White Queen was reigning dur- his enemies. We have been conquered,
ing the minority of her only son . The -the foolish White Prince rules ! ”
White Prince had reached the age of A strange inspiration stole upon her ;
nineteen, but the strong mind of his the breath of the May night hovered
mother had kept him always under re- over her ; the May moon shone upon
straint. A simple youth, he had always her. She could move without waiting
yielded to her control. He was pure for the will of another ; she was free.
hearted and gentle, but never ventured She passed down the avenue ; she had
to make a move of his own . He sought left her old prison behind.
1858.] The Queen of the Red Chessmen . 433

Early in the morning,-it was just af- gerty, and Mrs. Fogerty's brother, the
ter sunrise ,—the kind Doctor Lester was old geologist."
driving home, after watching half the “ Where did she come from ? " in
night out with a patient. He passed quired the Doctor.
the avenue to the Willows, but drew up “ I never saw her before, " said the ser
his horse just as he was leaving the en- vant, “ and I certainly should remember.
trance . He saw a young girl sitting There's some foreign folks live down in
under the hedge. She was without any the cottage, by the railroad ; but then
bonnet, in a red dress, fitting closely are not the like of her ! ”
and hanging heavily about her. She The Doctor got into his chaise again,
was so very beautiful, she looked so bewildered .
66
strangely lost and out of place here at My child ,” he said , “ you must tell
this early hour, that the Doctor could not me where you came from . "
resist speaking to her. “ Oh, don't let me go back again !" said
“ My child, how came you here ? ” Isabella, clasping ber hands imploringly.
The young girl rose up, and looked “ Think how hard it must be never to
round with uncertainty. take a move of one's own ! to know how
" Where am I ? " she asked. the game might be won, then see it lost
She was very tall and graceful, with through folly ! Ob, that last game, lost
an air of command, but with a strange, through utter weakness! There was that
wild look in her eyes. one move ! Why did he not push me
“ The young woman must be slightly down to the king's row ? I might have
insane,” thought the Doctor ; “ but she checkmated the White Prince, shut in
cannot have wandered far ." by his own castles and pawns, it would
“Let me take you home,” he said have been a direct checkmate ! Think
aloud. “ Perhaps you come from the of his folly ! he stopped to take the
Willows ? ” queen's pawn with his bishop, and within
“ Oh, don't take me back there ! ” cried one move of a checkmate ! ”
Isabella, “ they will imprison me again ! “ Quite insane ! ” repeated the Doctor.
I had rather be a slave than a conquered “ But I must have my breakfast. She
queen ! ” seems quiet ; I think I can keep her till
Decidedly insane ! ” thought the Doc- after breakfast, and then I must try and
tor. " I must take her back to the Wil- find where the poor child's friends live.
lows. " I don't know what Mrs. Lester will think
He persuaded the young girl to let him of her. ”
lift her into his chaise. She did not re- They rode on . Isabella looked timid
sist him ; but when he turned up the ly round .
avenue, she leaned back in despair. “ You don't quite believe me," she
He was fortunate enough to find one of said, at last. “ It seems strange to you ."
the servants up at the house, just sweep- “ It does,” answered the Doctor, “ seem
ing the steps of the hall-door. Getting very strange.”
out of his chaise, he said confidentially “ Not stranger than to me,” said Isa
to the servant,- bella, — “ it is so very grand to me ! Al
“ I have brought back your young this motion ! Look down at that great
lady. " field there, not cut up into squares! If
“ Our young lady !” exclaimed the I only had my knights and squires there !
man , as the Doctor pointed out Isabella. I would be willing to give her as good a
66
* Yes, she is a little insane, is she field, too ; but I would show her where
not ? ” the true bravery lies. What a place
“ She is not our young lady," answered for the castles, just to defend that passe ! "
the servant; 66 we have nobody in the The Doctor whipped up his horse.
bouse just now , but Mr. and Mrs. Fa Mrs. Lester was a little surprised at
VOL . I. 28
434 The Queen of the Red Chessmen . [ February ,
the companion her husband had brought road. As she came down in her clean
hone to breakfast with him. morning dress, she expected to have to
“ Who is it ? ” she whispered. hold her skirts away from some little
“ 'That I don't know , I shall have squalid object of charity. She started
to find out," he answered, a little ner- when she saw the elegant-looking young
vously . girl who sat at the table. There was
" Where is her bonnet ? ” asked Mrs. something in her air and manner that
Lester; this was the first absence of con- seemed to make the breakfast equipage,
ventionality she had noticed. and the furniture of the room about her,
• You had better ask her,” answered look a little mean and poor. Yet the
the Doctor. Doctor was very well off, and Mrs. Les
But Mrs. Lester preferred leaving her ter fancied she had everything quite in
guest in the parlor while she questioned style. Celia stole into her place, feeling
her husband. She was somewhat disturb- small in the presence of the stranger.
ed when she found he had nothing more After breakfast, when the Doctor had
satisfactory to tell her. somewhat refreshed himself by its good
“ An insane girl! and what shall we cheer from his last night's fatigue, Isabella
do with her ? ” she asked . requested to speak with him .
“ After breakfast I will make some in- “Let me stay with you a little while,”
quiries about her,” answered the Doc- she asked, beseechingly; “ I will do ev
tor. erything for you that you desire. You
“ And leave her alone with us ? that shall teach me anything ;-I know I can
will never do ! You must take her learn all that you will show me, all that
away directly , —at least to the Insane Mrs. Lester will tell me."
Asylum, - somewhere ! What if she 66
Perhaps so ,-perhaps that will be
should grow wild while you were gone ? best,” answered the Doctor, “until your
She might kill us all ! I will go in and friends inquire for you ; then I must send
tell her that she cannot stay here.” you back to them .”
On returning to the parlor , she found 66
Very well, very well,” said Isa
Isabella looking dreamily out of the bella, relieved . " But I must tell you
window . As Mrs. Lester approached , they will not inquire for me. I sec you
she turned . will not believe my story. If you only
• You will let me stay with you a little would listen to me, I could tell it all to
while, will you not ? ” you . "
She spoke in a quiet tone, with an air “ That is the only condition I can
9
somewhat commanding. It imposed up make with you,” answered the Doctor,
on nervous little Mrs. Lester. But she " that you will not tell your story ,—that
made a faint struggle. you will never even think of it yourself.
Perhaps you would rather go home,” I am a physician . I know that it is not
she said . good for you to dwell upon such things.
“ I have no home now ,” said Isabella ; Do not talk of them to me, nor to my
some time I may recover it ; but my wife or daughter. Never speak of your
throne has been usurped.” story to any one who comes here. It will
Mrs. Lester looked round in alarm , to be better for you."
see if the Doctor were near. “ Better for me," said Isabella, dream
" Perhaps you had better come in to ily, “ that no one should know ! Per
breakfast,” she suggested. haps so. I am, in truth, captive to the
She was glad to place the Doctor be White Prince ; and if he should come
tween herself and their new guest. and demand mc ,-I should be half
Celia Lester, the only daughter, came afraid to try the risks of another game.”
66
down stairs. She had heard that ber Stop, stop !” exclaimed the Doctor,
father had picked up a lost girl in the * you are already forgetting the con
1858. ] The Queen of the Red Chessmen . 435

dition. I shall be obliged to take you “ He says you will teach me many
away to some retreat, unless you promise things, - I think he said, how to sew.”
me
" How to sew ! Was it possible she did
“ Oh, I will promise you anything." not know how to sew ? " Celia thought
interrupted Isabella ; " and you will see to herself, “ How many servants she mus:
that I cau keep my promise." have had, never to have learned how to
Meanwhile Mrs. Lester and Celia had sew , herself ! "
been holding a consultation . And this occupation was directly pro
“ I think she must be some one in dis- vided, while the Doctor set forth on his
guise," suggested Celia. day's duties, and at the same time to in
Celia was one of the most unromantic quire about the strange apparition of
of persons. Both she and her mother the young girl. He was so convinced
had passed their lives in an unvarying that there was a vein of insanity about
routine of duties. Neither of them had her, that he was very sure that question
ever found time from their sewing even ing her only excited her the more . Just
to read. Celia bad her books of history as he had parted from her, some coli
laid out, that she meant to take up when punction scized her, and she followed
she should get through her work ; but it him to the door.
secmed hopeless that this time would “ There is my father ,” said she.
ever come . It had never come to Mrs. “ Your father ! where shall I find him ? ”
Lester, and she was now fifty years old . asked the Doctor.
Celia had never read any novels. She “ Oh, he could not help me,” she repli
had tried to read them , but never was ed ; “ it is a long time since he has been
interested in them . So she had a vague able to direct affairs. He has scarcely
idea of what romance was, conceiving of been conscious of my presence, and will
it only as something quite different from hardly feel my absence, his mind is so
her every -day life. For this reason the weak . ”
unnatural event that was taking place “ But where can I find him ? ” persisted
this very day was gradually appearing the Doctor.
to her something possible and natural. “ He did not come out,” said Isabella ;
Because she knew there was such a “the White Queen would not allow it,
thing as romance , and that it was some- indeed.”
thing quite beyond her comprehension, Stop, stop ! ” exclaimed the Doctor,
she was the more willing to receive this we are on forbidden ground .”
event quietly from finding it incompre He drove away.
hensible . “ So there is insanity in the family," he
“ We can let her stay here to-day, at thought to himself. “ I am quite inter
least,” said Mrs. Lester. “ We will keep ested in this case. A new form of mon
John at work in the front door- yard, in omania ! I should be quite sorry to lose
case we should want him. And I will sight of it. I shall be loath to give her
set Mrs. Anderson's boy to weeding in up to her friends."
the border; we can call him , if we should But he was not yet put to that test.
want to send for help.” No one could give him any light with
She was quite ashamed of herself, regard to the strange girl. He went
when she had uttered these words, and first to the Willows, and found there so
Isabella walked into the room , so com much confusion that he could hardly per
posed, so refined in her manners. suade any one to listen to his questions.
“ The Doctor says I may stay here a Mrs. Fogerty's brother, the geologist,
little while, if you will let me,” said Isa- had been riding that morning, and had
bella, as she took Mrs. Lester's hands. fallen from his horse and broken his
“ We will try to make you comfort leg. The Doctor arrived just in time to
able,” replied Mrs. Lester. be of service in sctting it. Then he must
436 The Queen of the Red Chessmen . [ February,
linger some time to see that the old gen- had given all her time and thought to it.
tleman was comfortable, so that he was Celia and her mother privately confided
obliged to stay nearly the whole morn- to the Doctor their admiration of their
ing. He was much amused at the state strange guest. Her ways were so grace
of disturbance in which he left the family. ful and beautiful! all that she said seemed
The whole house was in confusion , look- so new and singular ! The Doctor, before
ing after some lost chessmen . he went away, had exhorted Mrs. Lester
66
“There was nothing," said Mrs. Foger- and Celia to ask her no questions about
66
ty, apologetically, " that would soothe her her former life, and everything had gone
brother so much as a game of chess. on very smoothly. And everything went
That, perhaps, might keep him quiet. on as smoothly for some weeks. Isa
He would be willing to play chess with bella seemed willing to be as silent as
Mr. Fogerty by the day together. It the Doctor, upon all exciting subjects.
was so strange ! they had a game the She appeared to be quite taken up
night before, and now some of the pieces with her sewing, much to Mrs. Lester's
could not be found . Her brother had delight.
lost the game, and to -day he was so “ She will turn out quite as good a
eager to take his revenge ! " seamstress as Celia ," said she to the Doc
“ How absurd ! ” thought the Doctor; tor. “ She scws steadily all the time,
* what trifling things people interest them- and nothing seems to please her so much
selves in ! Here is this old man more as to finish a piece of work. She will be
disturbed at losing bis game of chess able to do much more than her own sew
than he is at breaking his leg ! It is dif- ing, and may prove quite a help to us.”
ferent in my profession, where one deals 66

shall be very glad," said the Doctor,

with life and death . Here is this young “ if anything can be a help, to prevent
girl's fate in my hands, and they talk you and Celia from working yourselves
to me of the loss of a few paltry chess- to death. I shall be glad if you can ever
men ! ” have done with that eternal sewing. It
»
The “ foreign people ” at the cottage is time that Celia should do something
knew nothing of Isabella. No one had about cultivating her mind .”
seen her the night before, or at any time. “ Celia's mind is so well regulated ,"
Dr. Lester even drove ten miles to Dr. interrupted Mrs. Lester.
66 9
Giles's Retreat for the Insane, to see if it “ We won't discuss that, " continued the
were possible that a patient could have Doctor, — “ we never come to an agree
wandered away from there. Dr. Giles ment there. I was going on to say that
was decply interested in the account Dr. I am becoming so interested in Isabella,
Lester gave . He would very gladly take that I feel towards her as if she were my
such a person under his care. own. If she is of help to the family,
66
No,” said Dr. Lester, “ I will wait that is very well,-it is the best thing for
awhile. I am interested in the young her to be able to make herself of use .
girl. It is not possible but that I shall But I don't care to make any profit to
in time find out from her, by chance, ourselves out of her help. Somehow I
perhaps, who her friends are, and where begin to think of her as belonging to us.
she came from . She must have wandered Certainly she belongs to nobody else .
away in some delirium of fever , --but it
-
Let us treat her as our own child . We
is very strange, for she appears perfectly have but one, yet God has given us
calm now. Yet I hardly know in what means enough to care for many more . I
state I shall find her.” confess I should find it hard to give Isa
He returned to find her very quiet bella up to any one else. I like to find
and calm , learning from his wife and her when I come home,-it is pleasant to
daughter how to sew. She seemed deep look at her.”
ly interested in this new occupation, and “ And I, too, love her,” said Mrs. Les
1858.] The Queen of the Red Chessmen . 437

ter. “ I like to see her as she sits quietly
at her work . "
So Isabella went on learning what it
was to be one of the family, and becom-
ing, as Mrs. Lester remarked, a very ex-
perienced seamstress. She seldom said
anything as she sat at her work, but
seemed quite occupied with her sewing ;
while Mrs. Lester and Celia kept up a
stream of conversation , seldom address
ing Isabella, as, indeed, they had few
topics in common .
One day, Celia and Isabella were
“What foolish questions you ask ! ” ex
claimed Celia, “ of course it has not life ."
66
Oh, life ,—that is it ! ” said Isabella
" Well, what is life ? "
“ Life ! why it is what makes us live,"
answered Celia . “ Of course you know
wbat life is.”
“ No, I don't know," said Isabella,
“ but I have been thinking about it
lately, while I have been sewing,—what
it is."
“ But you should not think, you should
talk more, Isabella,” said elia. Mam66

sitting together. ma and I talk while we are at work, but

“ Have you always sewed ? " asked you are always very silent. "
Isabella “ But you think sometimes ? ” asked
" Oh, yes," answered Celia, — " since Isabella.
I was quite a child ." “ Not about such things,” replied Celia.
“ And do you remember when you “ I have to think about my work . "
were a child ? ” asked Isabella, laying “ But your father thinks, I suppose,
down her work . when he comes home and sits in his study
Oh, yes, indeed ,” said Celia ; “ I used
66
alone ? "
to make all my doll's dresses myself.” “ Oh, he reads when he goes into his
“ Your doll's dresses ! " repeated Isa- study;-he reads books and studies them ,"
bella said Celia.
" Oh, yes,” replied Celia, — “ I was not “Do you know how to read ? " asked
ashamed to play with dolls in that way." Isabella .
“ I should like to see some dolls ,” said “ Do I know how to read ! ” cried Ce
Isabella. lia, angrily.
“ I will show you my large doll,” said “ Forgive me,” said Isabella, quick
Celia ; “ I have always kept it, because ly, “ but I never saw you reading. I
I fitted it out with such a nice set of thought perhaps — women are so differ
clothes. And I keep it for children to ent here ! ”
play with .” She did not finish her sentence, for she
Sbe brought her doll, and Isabella saw Celia was really angry. Yet she
handled it and looked at it with curiosity. had no idea of hurting her feelings.
So you dressed this, and played with She had tried to accommodate herself to
it,” said Isabella, inquiringly, " and mov her new circumstances. She had ober
ed it about as one would move a piece served a great deal, and had never been
at chess ? " in the habit of asking questions. Celia
Celia started at this word "chess." It was disturbed at having it supposed that
was one of the forbidden words. But she did not know how to read ; there
Isabella went on : fore it must be a very important thing to
“ Suppose this doll should suddenly know how to read, and she determined
have begun to speak, to move, and walk she must learn. She applied to the Doc
round, would not you have liked it ? ” tor. He was astonished at her entire
“ Oh, no ! ” exclaimed Celia. “ What ! ignorance, but he was very glad to help
a wooden thing speak and move ! It her. Isabella gave herself up to her
would have frightened me very much." reading, as she had done before to her
“ Why should it not speak, if it has a sewing. The Doctor was now the gainer.
mouth, and walk , if it has fect ? ” asked All the time he was away, Isabella sat in
Isabella his study, poring over her books ; when
438 The Queen of the Red Chessmen . [ February,
be returned, she had a famous lesson to ing with Celia in private, but not aa word
recite to him . Then he began to tell to say to anybody in the parlor. All
her of books that he was interested in. these, with many others in the back
He made Celia come in, for a history ground, had been speculating upon the
class. It was such a pleasure to him to riddle that Isabella presented , — Who
find Isabella interested in what he could was she ? and where did she come
tell her of history ! from ? "
“66 All this really happened,” said Isa- Nobody found any satisfactory answer.
bella to Celia once, " these people really Neither Celia nor her mother would
lived ! ” disclose anything. It is a great conven
66

Yes, but they died ,” responded Celia, ience in keeping a secret, not to know
-
in an indifferent tone, — " and ever so what it is. One can't easily tell what
long ago, too ! ” one does not know.
“ But did they die,” asked Isabella, “ if “ The Doctor really has a treasure in
we can talk about them , and imagine his wife and daughter," said Mrs. Gibbs,
how they looked ? They live for us as “ they keep his secrets so well ! Neither
much as they did then .” of them will lisp a word about this
“ That I can't understand ,” said Ce- handsome Isabella.”
lia . · My uncle saw Napoleon when
&6
“ I have no doubt she is the daughter
be was in Europe, long ago. But I of an Italian refugee,” said one of the
never saw Napoleon. He is dead and Misses Tarletan. “ We saw a number
gone to me, just as much as Alexander of Italian refugees in New York ."
the Great. " This opinion became prevalent in the
“Well, who does live, if Alexander neighborhool. That Dr. Lester should
the Great, if Napoleon , and Columbus
be willing to take charge of an unknown
do not live ? " asked Isabella, impatiently.
girl did not astonish those who knew
* Why, papa and mamma live," an- of his many charitable deeds. It was
swered Celia, " and you ” . not more than he had done for his
" And the butcher," interrupted Isa- cousin's child, who had no especial claim
bella, “ because he brings you meat to upon him. He had adopted Lawrence
eat; and Mr. Spool, because he keeps Egerton , educated him , sent him to col
the thread store . Thank you for putting lege, and was giving him every advan
me in , too ! Once ” tage in his study of the law . In the
" Once ! ” answered Celia, in a digni- end Lawrence would probably marry
fied tone , “ I suppose once you lived in a Celia and the pretty property that the
grander circle , and it appears to you we Doctor would leave behind for his daugh
have nobody better than Mr. Spool and ter.
the butcher. ” “ She is one of my patients,” the Doc
Isabella was silent, and thought of her tor would say, to any one who asked him
“66 circle ," her former circle. The circle about her.
here was large enough, the circumfer- The tale that she was the daughter of
ence not very great, but there were as an Italian refugee became more rife after
many points in it as in a larger one. Isabella had begun to study Italian . She
There were pleasant, motherly Mrs. liked to have the musical Italian words
Gibbs, and her agrecable daughters,—the linger on her tongue. She quoted Ital
Gresham boys, just in college, the Misses ian poetry, read Italian history. In con
Tarletan, fresh from aа New York board- versation, she generally talked of the
ing -school,—Mr. Lovell, the young minis- present, rarely of the past or of the
ter, and the old Misses Pendleton , that future. She listened with wonder to
made raspberry -jam ,-- together with Ce- those who had a talent for reminiscence.
lia's particular friends, Anna and Selina How rich their past must be, that they
Mountfort, who had a great deal of talk should be willing to dwell in it ! Her
1858.] The Queen of the Red Chessmen . 439

own she thought very mcagre. If she “ Let me sit by you here in the porch ,"
wanted to live in the past, it must be said Lawrence Egerton to Celia, — " I
in the past of great men, not in that want rest, for body and spirit. I am al
of her own little self. So she read of ways in a battle -field when I am talking
great painters and great artists, and be- with Isabella. I must either fight with
cause she read of them she talked of her or against her. She insists on my
them. Other people, in referring to by- fighting all the time. I have to keep
gone events, would say, “ When I was in my weapons bright, ready for use, every
Trenton last summer," -- " In Cuba the moment. She will lead me , too, in con
spring that we were there ” ; but Isabella versation, sendsmehere, orders me there .
would say, “ When Raphael died, or I feel like a poor knight in chess, under
99
when Dante lived.” Everybody liked the sway of a queen
to talk with her,-laughed with her at “ I don't know anything about chess,"
her enthusiasm . There was something saidCelia, curtly.
inspiring, too, in this enthusiasm ; it com- “ It is a comfort to have you a little
pelled attention, as her air and manner ignorant,” said Lawrence . * Please stay
always attracted notice. By her side, in bliss awhile . It is repose, it is refresh
the style and elegance of the Misses ment . Isabella drags one into the com
Tarletan faded out; here was a moon pany of her heroes, and then one feels
that quite extinguished the light of their completely ashamed not to be on more
little tapers. She became the centre of familiar terms with them all. Her Maz
admiration ; the young girls admired her, zinis, her Tancreds, heroes false and
as they are prone to admire some one true , —it makes no difference to her ,
particular star. She never courted at- put one into a whirl between history and
tention , but it was always given. story. What a row she would make in
Isabella attracts everybody,” said Italy, if she went back there ! ”.
Celia to her mother. “ Even the old Mr. “ What could we do without her? "
Spencers, who have never been touched said Celia ; " it was so quiet and com
by woman before, follow her, and act monplace before she came ! ”
just as she wills .” “ That is the trouble,” replied Law .
Little Celia, who had been quite a rence, “ Isabella won't let anything remain
belle hitherto, sunk into the shade by commonplace. She pulls everything out
the side of the brilliant Isabella. Yet of its place,-makes a hero or heroine
she followed willingly in the sunny wake out of a piece of clay. I don't want to
that Isabella left behind. She expand- be in heroics all the time. Even Homer's
ed somewhat, herself, for she was quite heroes ate their suppers comfortably. I
ashamed to know nothing of all that Isa think it was a mistake in your father,
bella talked about so earnestly. The bringing her here. Let her stay in her
sewing gave place to a little reading, to sphere queening it, and leave us poor
Mrs. Lester's horror. The Mountforts and mortals to our bread and butter.”
the Gibbses met with Isabella and Celia “ You know you don't think so ," ex.
to read and study, and went into town postulated Celia ; " you worship her shoe
with them to lectures and to concerts . tic, the hem of her garment.”
A winter passed away and another “ But I don't want to ," said Lawrence,
summer came. Still Isabella was at Dr. -" it is a compulsory worship. I had
Lester's ; and with the lapse of time the rather be quiet."
harder did it become for the Doctor to " Lazy Lawrence ! ” cried Celia, “ it is
question her of her past history ,—the better for you. You would be the first
more, too, was she herself weaned from to miss Isabella. You would find us
it. quite flat without her brilliancy, and
The young people had been walking would be hunting after some other ex
in the garden ope evening. citement.”
440 The Queen of the Red Chessmen . [ February
&
Perhaps so," said Lawrence . “ But place of Italian studies. She liked talk
here she comes to goad us on again. ing in Spanish. They made some friends
Queen Isabella, when do the bull - fights among the residents, as well as among
begin ? " the strangers, particularly the Ameri
“ I wish I were Queen Isabella ! " she cans. Of these last, they enjoyed most
exclaimed . “ Have you read the last the society of Mrs. Blanchard and her
accounts from Spain ? I was reading son , Otho, who were at the same hotel
them to the Doctor today. Nobody with them .
knows what to do there. Only think The opera, too , was a new delight to
wbat an opportunity for the Queen to Isabella, and even Celia was excited by
show berself a queen ! Why will not it.
she make of herself such a queen as the “ It is a little too absurd , to see the
great Isabella of Castile was ? ” dying scene of Romeo and Juliet sung
“ I can't say,” answered Lawrence . out in an opera ! ” remarked Lawrence
Queens rule in chess,” said Horace Egerton, one morning; “ all the music
Gresham . “ I always wondered that the of the spheres could not have made
king was made such a poor character that scene, last night, otherwise than
there. He is not only ruled by his supremely ridiculous."
cabinet, bishops, and knights, but his “ I am glad you did not sit by us,
queen is by far the more warlike char- then ,” replied Celia ; “ Isabella and I
acter . " were crying."
“ Whoever plays the game rules, -you “ I dare say,” said Lawrence . “ I should
or Mr. Egerton,” said Isabella, bitterly ; be afraid to take you to see a tragedy
* it is not the poor queen. She must well acted . You would both be in hys
yield to the power of the moving hand. I terics before the killing was over. ”
suppose it is so with us women . We see “ I should be really afraid ,” said Celia,
a great aim before us, but have not the " to see Romeo and Juliet finely perform
power. " ed . It would be too sad . "
“ Nonsense ! ” exclaimed Lawrence, “ it " It would be much better to end it
is just the reverse. With some women , up comfortably,” said Lawrence. "Why
-for I won't be personal,—the aim , as should not Juliet marry her Romeo in
, poor amuse peace ? "
you call it, is very small,-a
ment, another dress, a larger house ”- “ It would be impossible ! ” exclaimed
“ You may stop," interrupted Isabella, Isabella,-— "“ impossible to bring together
" for you don't believe this. At least, two such hostile families ! Of course the
keep some of your flings for the women result must be a tragedy."
that deserve them ; Celia and I don't “ In romances, ” answered Lawrence,
accept them. ” u that may be necessary ; but not in real
“ Then we'll talk of the last aim we life . ”
66
were discussing ,—the ride to -morrow .” Why not in real life ? ” asked Isa
The next winter was passed by Mrs. bella. “ When two thunder -clouds meet ,
Lester, her daughter, and Isabella in there must be an explosion ."
Cuba. Lawrence Egerton accompanied “ But we don't have such hostile fami
them thither, and the Doctor hoped lies arrayed against each other now - a
to go for them in the spring. They days,” said Lawrence. 4. The Bianchi
went on Mrs. Lester's account. She and the Neri have died out ; unless the
had worn herself out with her house- feud lives between the whites and the
hold labors, —very uselessly, the Doctor blacks of the present day.”
thought,--so
・ he determined to send her “ Are you sure that it has died out
away from them . Isabella and Celia everywhere ? ” asked Isabella.
were •very happy all this winter and “ Certainly not,” said Otho Blanchard ;
spring. With Isabella Spanish took the my mother, Bianca Bianco, inherits her
1858.] The Queen of the Red Chessmen . 441

name from a long line of ancestry, and Isabella. “ How he colored up when he
with it come its hatreds as well as its spoke of the honor of his family !"
loves. " “ I wonder that you like him," said
“ You speak like an Italian or Span . Celia ; " when he is with his mother, he
iard , ” said Lawrence. “ We are cold hardly ventures to say his soul is his
blooded Yankees, and in our slow veins own ."
such passions do die out. I should have “ I don't like his mother,” said Isabella ;
taken you for an American from your “ her manner is too imperious and un
name. " refined, it appears to me. No wonder
" It is our name Americanized ; we that Otho is ill at ease in her presence .
have made Americans of ourselves, and It is evident that her way of talking is
the Bianchi have become the Blanch- not agreeable to him . He is afraid that
ards.” she will commit herself in some way."
“ The romance of the family, then ," “ But he never stands up for himself,”
persisted Lawrence, “ must needs become answered Celia ; " he always yields to
Americanized too. If you were to meet her. Now I should not think you would
with a lovely young lady of the enemy's like that.”
race, I think you would be willing to “ He yields because she is his mother ,"
bury your sword in the sheath for her said Isabella ; " and it would not be be
sake . " coming to contradict her.”
“ I hope I should not forget the honor “ He yields to you, too,” said Celia ;
of my family,” said Otho. “ I certainly “how happens that ? ”
never could, as long as my mother lives; " I hope he does not yield to me more
her feelings on the subject are stronger than is becoining," answered Isabella,
even than mine. " laughing ; “ perhaps that is why I like
“ I cannot imagine the possibility of him. After all, I don't care to be al
such feelings dying out," said Isabel- ways sparring, as I am with Lawrence
la “ I cannot imagine such different Egerton. With Otho I find that I agree
elements amalgamating. It would be wonderfully in many things. Neither
like fire and water uniting. Then there of us yields to the other, neither of us
would be no longer any contest; the is obliged to convince the other. "
game of life would be over.” “ Now I should think you would find
66
Why will you make out life to be that stupid ,” said Celia. “ What becomes
a battle always ? ” exclaimed Lawrence ; of this desire of yours never to rest, al
“ won't you allow us any peace ? I do ways to be struggling after something ? ”
not find such contests all the time, - “ We might strive together, we might
never, except when I am fighting with struggle together ,” responded Isabella.
you." She said this musingly, not in answer
“ I had rather fight with you than to Celia, but to her own thoughts,-as she
against you,” said Isabella, laughing. looked away, out from everything that
•But when one is not striving, one is surrounded her. The passion for ruling
sleeping." had always been uppermost in her mind ;
“ That reminds me that it is time for suddenly there dawned upon her the
our siesta ," said Lawrence; “so we need pleasure of being ruled. She became
not fight any longer." conscious of the pleasure of conquering
Afterwards Isabella and Celia were all things for the sake of giving all to
talking of their new friend Otho. another. A new sense of peace stole
“ He does not seem to me like a upon her mind . Before, she had felt
Spaniard,” said Celia, “his complexion herself alone, even in the midst of the
is so light ; then , too, his name sounds kindness of the home that had been
German .” given her. She had never dared to
“ But his passions are quick,” replied think or to speak of the past, and as littlo
 442 The Queen of the Red Chessmen . [ February ,
of the future. She had gladly flung her- anxious to accompany them to New
self into the details of every -day life. England. She wondered if it were not
She had given her mind to the study possible to find a country -seat some
of all that it required. She loved the where near the Lesters, that she could
Doctor, because he was always leading occupy for a time. The Doctor knew
her on to fresh fields, always exciting that the Willows was to be vacant this
her to a new knowledge. She loved spring. The Fogertys were all going
him, too, for himself, for his tenderness to Europe , and would be very willing to
and kindness to her. With Mrs. Lester let their place.
and Celia she felt herself on a different So it was arranged after their return .
footing. They adinired her, but they The Fogertys lett for Europe, and Mrs.
never came near her. She led them, Blanchard took possession of the Wil
and they were always behind her. lows. It was a pleasant walking dis
With Otho she experienced a new tance from the Lesters, but it was sev
feciing. He seemed, very much as she eral weeks before Isabella made her first
did herselt, out of place in the world just visit there. She was averse to going into
around him . He was a foreigner, —was the house , but, in company with Celia ,
not yet acclimated to the society about Lawrence, and Otho, walked about the
him . Ile was willing to talk of other grounds. Presently they stopped near a
things than every -day crents. He did pretty fountain that was playing in tho
not talk of “ things,” indeed, but he spec- midst of the garden.
ulated, as though he lived a separate life “ That is a pretty place for an Un
from that of mere eating and drinking. dine,” said Otho.
He was not content with what seemed 66
• The idea of an Undine makes me
to every -day people possible, but was shiver, ” said Lawrence. “ Think what a
willing to believe that there were things cold-blooded , unearthly being she would
not dreamed of in their philosophy. be ! ”
“ It is a satisfaction ,” said Lawrence “Not after she had aa soul ! ” exclaimed
once to Celia, “ that Isabella has found Isabella.
somebody who will go high enough into “ An Undine with a soul!” cried Law
the clouds to suit her. Besides, it gives rence . “ I conceive of them as malicious
me a little repose ." spirits, who live and die as the bubbles
“ And a secret jealousy at the same of water rise and fall. "
time; is it not so ? ” asked Celia. “ He “ You talk as if there were such
takes up too much of Isabella's time to things as Undines,” said Celia . “ I re
please you." member once trying to read the story
“ The reason he pleases her,” said of Undine, but I never could finish it."
Lawrence, “ is because he is more wom- “ It ends tragically,” remarked Otho.
anly than manly, and she thinks women “ Of course all such stories must,"
ought to rule the world. Now if the world responded Lawrence ; “ of course it is
were made up of such as he, it would impossible to bring the natural and the
be very easily ruled. Isabella loves unnatural together.”
power too well to like to see it in others. That depends upon what you call
Look at her when she is with Mrs. Blan- the natural,” said Otho .
66
chard ! It is a splendid sight to see them “ We should differ, I suppose,” said
together ! " Lawrence, “if we tried to explain what
“ How can you say so ? I am always we each call the natural. I fancy your
afraid of some outbreak.” • real life ’ is different from mine. "
These families were, however, so much “ Pictures of real life,” said Isabella,
66
drawn together, that, when the Doctor are sometimes pictures of horses and
came to summon his wife and daughter dogs, sometimes of children playing,
and Isabella home, Mrs. Blanchard was sometimes of fruits of different scasons
1858. ] The Queen of the Red Chessmen . 443

heaped upon one dish, sometimes of and couches were scattered round the
watermelons cut open .” room ; beautiful landscapes against the
“ That is hardly your picture of real wall seemed like windows cut into for
life,” said Lawrence, laughing,—" a wa- eign scenery. There was an air of ease
termelon cut open ! I think you would in the room , an old -fashioned sort of
rather choose the picture of the Water ease , such as the Fogertys must have
Fairies from the Düsseldorf Gallery." loved.
“ Why not ? ” said Isabella. “ The life “ It is a pretty room , is it not ? ” said
we see must be very far from being the Lawrence. “ You look at it as if it
only life that is. ” pleased you. How much more comfort
“ That is very true, " answered Law- there is about it than in the fashionable
rence ; “ but let the fairies live their life parlors of the day! It is solid, substan
by themselves, while we live our life in tial comfort. "
our own way. Why should they come “ You look at it as if you had seen it
to disturb our peace, since we cannot before ,” said Otho to Isabella . “ Do you
comprehend them , and they certainly know the room impressed me in that
cannot comprehend us ? ” way , too ? ”
“ You do not think it well, then," said “ It is singular,” said Lawrence, “the
Isabella, stopping in their walk, and look- feeling, that “ all this has been before ,'
ing down, — " you do not think it well that comes over one at times. I have
that beings of different natures should heard it expressed by a great many
mingle ? ” people."
“ I do not see how they can,” replied “ Have you, indeed, ever had this feel
Lawrence. “ I am limited by my senses ; ing ? ” asked Isabella.
66
I can perceive only what they show me. Certainly,” replied Lawrence ; “ I
Even my imagination can picture to me say to myself sometimes, I have been
only what my senses can paint.” through all this before ! ' and I can al
“ Your senses ! ” cried Otho, contempt most go on to tell what is to come next,
uously , — “ it is very true, as you confess, -it seems so much a part of my past
you are limited by your senses. Is all experience .”
this beauty around you created merely “ It is strange it should be so with
for you—and the other insects about us ? you,—and with you too,” she said, turn
I have no doubt it is filled with invisi ing to Otho.
6
ble life . ” Perhaps we are all more alike than
“ Do let us go in ! ” said Celia. “ This we have thought,” said Otho.
talk , just at twilight, under the shade of Otho's mother appeared, and the con
this shrubbery, makes me shudder. I versation took another turn .
am not afraid of the fairies. I never Isabella did not go to the Willows
could real fairy stories when I was a again, until all the Lester family were
child ; they were tiresome to me. But summoned there to a large party that
talking in this way makes one timid. Mrs. Blanchard gave. She called it a
There might be strollers or thieves under house -warming, although she had been
all these hedges." in the house some time. It was a beau
They went into the house, through tiful evening A clear moonlight made
the hall, and different apartments, till it as brilliant outside on the lawn as the
they reached the drawing-room . Isabel- lights made the house within . There
la stood transfixed upon the threshold. was a band of music stationed under the
It was all so familiar to her everything shrubbery, and those who chose could
as she hail known it before ! Over the dance . Those who were more romantic
mantelpiece hung tho picture of the wandered away down the shaded walks,
scornful Spanish lady ; a heavy bookcase and listened to the dripping of the foun
stood in one corner ; comfortable chairs tain .
444 The Queen of the Red Chessmen . [ February,
Lawrence and Isabella returned from then, the moonlight streamed down.
a walk through the grounds, and stopped Isabella and Otho had been talking
a moment on the terrace in front of the earnestly, —so earnestly, that they were
house. Just then a dark cloud appear quite unobservant of the coming storm ,
ed in the sky, threatening the moon . of the strange lurid light that hung
The wind, too , was rising, and made a around.
motion among the leaves of the trees. " It is strange that this should take
" Do you remember,” asked Lawrence, place here ! ” said Isabella , — " that just
" that child's story of the Fisherman and here I should learn that you love me !
his Wife ? how the fisherman went down Strange that my destiny should be com
to the sea-shore, and cried out, - pleted in this spot ! ”
6

6
" And this spot has its strange associa
0 man of the sen , tions with me,” said Otho, “ of which I
Come listen to me !
For Alice, my wife, must some time speak to you . But now
The plague of my life, I can think only of the present. Now,
Has sent me to beg a boon of thee !' for the first time, do I feel what life
is,
,—now that you have promised to be
The sea muttered and roared ;-do you mine ! "
remember ? There was always some- Otho was interrupted by a sudden
thing impressive to me in the descrip- cry . He turned to find his mother stand
tions, in the old story, of the changes in ing behind him.
the sea , and of the tempest that rose up, “ You are here with Isabella ! she
more and more fearful, as the fisherman's has promised herself to you !” she ex
wife grew more ambitious and more and claimed. “ It is a fatality, a terrible fa
more grasping in her desires, each time tality ! Listen, Isabella ! You are the
that the fisherman went down to the Queen of the Red Chessmen ; and he,
sea-shore. I believe my first impres- Otho, is the King of the White Chess
sion of the sea came from that. The men ,—and I, their Queen. Can there
coming on of a storm is always associ- be two queens ? Can there be a mar
ated with it. I always fancy that it is riage between two hostile families ? Do
bringing with it something beside the you not see , if there were a marriage
tempest,-- that there is something ruin- between the Reds and the Whites, there
ous behind it. ” were no game ? Look ! I have found
“ That is more fanciful than you usu- our old prison ! The pieces would all
ally are,” said Isabella; " but, alas ! I be here, — but we, we are missing !
cannot remember your story, for I never Would you return to the imprisonment
read it." of this poor box ,-to your old mimic
" That is where your education and life ? No, my children, go back ! Isa
Celia's was fearfully neglected,” said bella, marry this Lawrence Egerton , who
Lawrence ; “ you were not brought up loves you. You will find what life is,
on fairy stories and Mother Goose. then. Leave Otho, that he may find this
You have not needed the first, as Celia same life also . ”
has ; but Mother Goose would have Isabella stood motionless.
given a tone to your way of thinking, Otho, the White Prince ! Alas !
that is certainly wanting .” where is my hatred ? But life without
A little while afterwards, Isabella hiin ! Even stagnation were better ! I
stood upon the balcony steps leading must needs be captive to the White
from the drawing -rooi . Otho was with Prince ! ”
her. The threatening clouds had drive She stretched out her hand to Otho.
en almost every one into the house. He seized it passionately. At this mo
There was distant thunder and lightning ; ment there was a grand crash of thun
but through the cloud -riſts, now and der. A gust of wind extinguished at
1858.] Daybreak. 445

once all the lights in the drawing-rooin. The Doctor found in the balcony a
The terrified guests hurried into the box of chessmen fallen down. It was
hall, into the other rooms. nearly filled ; but the red queen, and the
“ The lightning must have struck the white king and queen , were lying at a
house ! ” they exclaimed. little distance. In the box was the red
A heavy rain followed ; then all was king, his crown fallen from his head, him
still. Everybody began to recover his self broken in pieces. The Doctor took
spirits. The servants relighted the can- up the red queen, and carried it home.
dles. The drawing -room was found un- “ Are you crazy ? " asked his wife.
tenanted. It was time to go ; yet there “What are you going to do with that
was a constraint upon all the party, who red queen ? ”
were eager to find their hostess and bid But the Doctor placed the figure on
her good -bye. his study- table, and often gazed at it
But the hostess could not be found ! wistfully.
Isabella and Otho, too, were missing ! Whenever, afterwards, as was often
The Doctor and Lawrence went every- the case , any one suggested a new theo
where, calling for them , seeking them in ry to account for the mysterious disap
the house, in the grounds. They were pearance of Isabella and the Blanchards,
nowhere to be found, - neither that the Doctor looked at the carved image
night, nor the next day, nor ever after- on his table and was silent
wards !

DAYBREAK.

A WIND came up out of the sea,

And said, “ O mists, make room for me ! "

It hailed the ships, and cried, “ Sail on,

Ye mariners !the night is gone ! ”
And hurried landward far away,
Crying, “ Awake ! it is the day ! "

It said unto the forest, “ Shout !

Hang all your leafy banners out ! ”
It touched the wood -bird's folded wing,
And said, “ O bird, awake and sing !”.

And o'er the farms, “ O chanticleer,

Your clarion blow ! the day is near ! ”

It whispered to the fields of corn ,

“ Bow down , and hail the coming morn ! "

It shouted through the belfry -tower,

46
Awake, O bell! proclaim the hour ! "
It crossed the churchyard with a sigh,
And said, “ Not yet ! in quiet lie ! "
446 Теа . [ February,

TEA.

GOSSIPING Mr. Pepys little imagined, tough, giving off a disagreeable smell
when he wrote in his Diary, September when cut. The leaves are smooth, shin
25th, 1660, “ I did send for a cup of tee, ing, of a dark green color, and with notch
(a China drink ,) of which I never had ed edges ; those of the Thea Bohea, the
drank before ," that he had mentioned a black tea, being curled and oblong ,
beverage destined to exert a world -wide wbile those of the Thea riridis, the green
influence on civilization, and in due time tea , are broader in proportion to their
gladden every heart in his country, from length, but not so thick, and curled at
that of the Sovereign Lady Victoria, down the apex. The plant flowers early in
to humble Mrs. Miff with her mortified the spring, remaining in bloom about a
bonnet.” Reader, if you wish some little month ; and its seeds ripen in December
information on the subjects oftea -growing, and January. According to Chinese
gathering, curing, and shipping, you must authority, tea is grown in nearly every
come with us to China, in spite of the province of the empire ; but the greater
war.
We know how to elude the block- part of it is produced in four or five
ade, how to beard Viceroy Yeh ; and in provinces, affording all that is shipped
one of the great hongs on the Canton from Canton. Very large quantities,
River we will give you a short lecture however, are consumed by the countries
on the virtues of Souchong and flowery auljoining the western frontier, and Rus
Pekoe . sia draws an immense supply by cara
The native name of the article is Cha, vans, all of which is the proluct of the
although it has borne two or three names northwest provinces. The Bohea Hills,
among the Chinese,-in the fourth centu- in Lat. 27° 47' North, and Long. 119°
ry being called Ming. To botanists it is East, distant about nine hundred miles
known as Thea, having many affinities from Canton, produce the finest kinds
with the Camellia. It has long been of black tea ; while the green teas are
a doubtful point whether or not two chiefly raised in another province, sev
species exist, producing the green and cral hundred miles farther north. The
black teas. True, there are the green -tea soil of many plantations examined by Mr.
country and the black-tea region, hun- Fortunc is very thin and poor, in some
dreds of miles apart ; but the latest inves places little more than sand, such soil as
tigation goes to prove that there is real- would grow pines and scrub oaks. The
ly but one plant. Mr. Robert Fortune, shrubs are generally planted on the slopes
whose recent and interesting work, “The of hills, the plants in many places not in
Tea Countries of China and India," is fa- terfering with the cultivation of wheat
miliar to many of our readers, has not and other grain. They are always rais
only had peculiar facilities for gaining a cd from seeds, which in the first place are
knowledge of tea as grown in the Cen- sown very thickly together, as many of
tral Flowery Kingdom , but is, moreover, them never shoot; and when the young
one of the most scientific of English bot- plants have attained the proper size they
anists. He maintains the “unity theory. ” are transplanted into the beds prepared
of the plant, and we are content to agree for them, although in some cases the seeds
with him,—the differences in the leaves are sown in the proper situations without
being owing to climate, situation, soil, and removal. " Care is taken that the plants
other accidental influences. The shrub be not overshadowed by large trees, and
is generally from three to six feet high, many superstitious notions prevail as to
having numerous branches and a very the noxious influence ofcertain vegetables
dense foliage. Its wood is hard and in the vicinity. Although the shrub is
1858.) Tea . 447

very hardy, not being injured even by inaccessible to man , and that monkeys
snow, yet the weather has great influ- are therefore trained to pick it. For
ence on the quality of the leaves, and the truth of this story I cannot vouch,
many directions are given by Chinese and of course ask no one to believe it.
authors with regard to the proper care The picking of the leaf is frequently
to be observed in the culture of the performed by a different class of laborers
plant. Leaves are first gathered from it from those who cultivate it ; but the cus
when it is three years old , but it does toms vary in different places. There are
not attain its greatest size for six or four pickings in the course of the year ,
seren,--thriving, according to care and the last onc, however, being considered
situation , from ten to twenty years. a mere gleaning. The first is made as
The fan !ous Bohea Hills are said to de- early as the 15th of April, and sometimes
rive their name from two brothers, Woo sooner , when the delicate buds appear
and E, the sons of a prince in ancient and the foliage is just opening, being
times, who refused to succeed him, and covered with a whitish down. From this
came to reside among these mountains, picking the finest kinds of tea are made,
where to this day the people burn incense although the quantity is small. The next
to their memory. Another legend states gathering is technically called “second
that the people of this district were first spring,” and takes place in the early
taught the use of tea as a beverage by a part of June, when the branches are well
venerable man who suddenly appeared covered, producing the greatest quantity
among them , holding a sprig in his hand, of leaves. The third gathering, or “ third
from which he proposed that they should spring,” follows in about one month, when
make a decoction and drink it. On their the branches are again searched, the
doing so and approving the drink, he in- most common kinds of tea being the re
stantly vanished. sult. The fourth gleaning is styled the
There is very great choice in the “ autumn dew ” , but this is not univer
teas ; connoisseurs being much more sally observed, as the leaves are now
particular in their taste than even the old and of very inferior quality. These
most fastidious wine - drinkers. Purchas- poorest sorts are sometimes clipped off
ers inquire the position of the gardens with shears ; but the general mode of
from which the samples were taken ; tcas gathering is by hand, the leaves being
from the summit of a hill, from the mid- laiil lightly on bamboo trays.
dle, and from the base bearing different The curing of the leaf is of the ut
values. Some of the individual shrubs most importance , -some kinds of tea de
are greatly prized ; one being called the pending almost entirely for their value
" ege -plant," growing in a deep gully be- on the mode of preparation. When the
tween two hills, and nourished by water leaves are brought to the curing-houses,
which trickles from the precipice. An- they are thinly spread upon bamboo
other is appropriated exclusively to the trays, and placed in the wind to dry
imperial use, and an officer is appointed until they become somewhat soft ; tlien,
every year to superintend the gathering while lying on the trays, they are gently
and curing. The produce of such plants rubbed and rolled many times. From
is never sent to Canton, being reserved the labor attending this process the tea
entirely for the emperor and the gran- is called kung foncha, or “worked tea ” ;
dees of the court, and commanding cnor- hence the English name of Congou.
mous prices ; the most valuable being said When the leaves have been sufficiently
to be worth one hundred and fifty dollars worked they are ready for the firing, an
a pound, and the cheapest not less than operation requiring the exercise of the
twenty -five dollars. There is said to be greatest care. The iron pan used in the
a very fine kind called “ monkey tea," process is made red hot, and the work
from the fact that it grows upon heights man sprinkles a handful of leaves upon
448 Tea . [ February,
it and waits until cach leaf pops with quality are judged of by the number of
a slight poise, when be at once sweeps infusions that can be made from the
all out of the pan , lest they should be same leaves, as many as fifteen drawings
burned, and then fires another handful. being obtained from the richest kinds.
The leaves are then put into dry bas- Many persons have imagined that the
kets over a pan of coals. Care is taken, peculiar effects of green tea upon the
by laying ashes over the fire, that no nerves after drinking it, as well as its col.
smoke shall ascend among the leaves, or, are owing to its having been fired in
which are slowly stirred with the hand copper pans, which is not the case, as no
until perfectly dry. The tea is then copper instruments are used in its manu
poured into chests, and, when trans- facture ; but these effects are probably
ported, placed in boxes enclosing Icaden due to the partial curing of the leaf, and
canisters, and papered to keep out the its consequent retention of many of the
dampness. In curing the finest kinds peculiar properties of the growing plant
of tea, such as Powchong , Pekoe, ett ., The bloom upon the cheaper kinds of
not more than ten to twenty leaves green tea is produced by gypsum or
arc fired in the pan at one time, and Prussian blue ; and perhaps the effects
only a few pounds rolled at once in alluded to are in some degree caused
the trays. As soon as cured, these fine by these minerals. Such teas are pre
teas are packed in papers, two or three pared entirely for exportation, the Chi
pounds in each, and stamped with the nese themselves never drinking them .
name of the plantation and the date of Each foreign house employs an in
curing. spector or taster, whose business it is to
Beside the hongs in Canton, which examine samples of all the teas sub
I shall presently speak of, there are mitted to the firm for purchase. When
large buildings, styled "pack-houses," a taster has a lot of teas to examine,
containing all the apparatus for curing several samples, selected from various
Into these establishments foreigners are chests, being placed before him , he first of
not readily admitted. Two or three rows all takes up a large handful and smelle
of furnaces are built in a large, airy it repeatedly, then chews some of it, and
apartment, having a number of hemi- records his opinion in a huge folio, where
spherical iron pans inserted into the in are chronicled the merits of every lot
brick -work, two pans being beated by one
> examined by him ; and lastly, he puts
fire. Into these pans the rolled leaves small portions of the various kinds into
are thrown and stirred with the arm until a great many little cups into which boil
too hot for the flesh to bear, when they ing water is poured, and when the tea
are swept out and laid on a table covered is drawn he takes a sip of the infusion.
with matting, where they are again rolled . With all due deference to his art, some
The firing and rolling are sometimes re- times, when the taster does not know ex
peated three or four times, according to actly what to say of a sample, the book
the state of the leaves. The rolling is will bear witness that the parcel has “a
attended with some pain, as an acrid decided tea flavor. ” But the accuracy
juice exudes from the leaves, which acts of good tasters is really wonderful; they
upon the hands; and the whole operation will classify and fix the true value of a
of tea -curing and packing is somewhat chop of teas beyond dispute, and the
unpleasant, from the fine dust arising, East India Company's tasters were oc
and entering the nose and mouth ,—to casionally of eminent service in detect
prevent which, the workmen often cover ing frauds. A first-rate tea -taster may
the lower part of the face with a cloth. make a fortune in a few years ; but,
The leaves are frequently tested , during from constantly inhalingminute particles
the process of curing, by pouring boiling of the herb, the health is frequently
water upon them ; and their strength and ruined .
1858.] Tea . 449

The teas which come to Canton are and custom -houses are established along
brought chiefly by water. Only occa- the route from the tea regions to Can
sional land stages are used in transpor- ton, for the purpose of levying duties
tation , the principal one being the pass on the teas, none being allowed to be
which crosses the Ineiling Mountain, in sent to that city by coastwise voyages.
the north of the Canton or Quang - tong And now of the various kinds of black
Province, cut through at the beginning and green teas.- But, Reader, I hear
of the eighth century. As every article you cry , “ Halt ! balt ! pray do not bore
of merchandise which goes through the us with a dry catalogue of the 6• Padre
pass, either from the south or the north, Souchongs ' and • Twankays ’; we know
is carried across on the backs of men , them already.” — Then speak for me, im
several hundred thousand porters are mortal Pindar Cockloft! crusty bachelor
here employed. Many tortuous paths that thou art ! who hast told that tea'
are cut 'over the mountain , and through and scandal are inseparable, and hast
them are continually passing these poor so wittily described a gathering around
creatures, condemned by poverty to ter- the urn as
rible fatigue, the work being so laborious
“ A convention of tattling, a tea- party hight,
that the generality of them live but a Which, like meeting of witches, is brewed up
short time. At certain intervals are lit at night ,
lle bamboo sheds, where travellers rest Where each matron arrives fraught with tales
on their journey, smoking a pipe and of surprise,
drinking tea for refreshment; while at With knowing suspicion and doubtful sur
mise ;
the summit of the pass is an immense Like the broomstick -whirled hags that appear
portal, or kind of triumphal arch, erect in Macbeth,
ed on the boundary line of the two Each bearing some relic of venom or death,
Provinces of Quang-tong and Kiang-si. To stir up the toil and to double the trouble,
The teas, securely packed in chests That fire may burn , and that cauldron may
bubble .
wrapped in matting, are placed in the
The wives of our cits of inferior degree
boats which ply upon the rivers flow Will so : k up repute in a little Bohea ;
ing from the tea countries into the Poy- The potionis vulgar, and vulgar the slang
ang Lakc, and after successive changes With which on their neighbors' defects they
are at length brought to the foot of harangue.
the Ineiling Mountain, carried over it But the scandal improves ,-a refinement in
on the backs of men, and reshipped on As ourwrong !--
matrons are richer and rise to Sou
the south side of the pass. The boats chong.
in which the tea is brought to Canton With Hyson, a beverage that's still more re
convey from five hundred to eight hun- fined,
dred chests each , and are called chop- Our ladies of fashion enliven their inind,
boats by foreigners, from each lot of And by nods, innuendoes, and hints, and what
not,
teas being called a chop. They serve Reputations and tea send together to pot;
admirably for inland navigation, draw While madam in cambrics and laces arrayed ,
ing but little water, and are so round With her plate and her liveries in splendid
ed as to make it almost impossible to p : rude,
overset one. A ledge is built upon Will drink in Imperial a friend at a sup,
Or in Gunpowder blow them by dozens all
each side of the boat for the trackers, up."
who, when the wind fails, collect in the
bow , and , sticking long bamboo poles in- There, now , Reader, you have the best
to the bed of the stream , walk along the classification extant of teas; and I will
ledge to the stern, thus propelling the not detain you with any long descriptions
barge, and repeating the operation as of other kinds, seldom heard of by Amer
often as they have traversed the length icans, such as the “ Sparrow's Tongue,"
of the planks. A number of excise posts the “ Black Dragon ,” the “Dragon's
VOL . I. 29
450 Tea . [ February,
Whiskers,” the “ Dragon's Pellet,” the On our left is another vista of river life,
66
*Flowery Fragrance,” and the “ Careful the pagoda near Whampoa, and the forts
Firing." of Dutch and French Folly. In our rear
Perhaps a notice of the great hongs is the immense city of Canton , and oppo
will prove more interesting to you . They site to us, across the river, lies the verdant
stretch for miles along the Canton River, island of Honan, with its villages, its
and in the busy season are crammed with canals, and its great Buddhist temple.
hundreds of thousands of chests, filled On descending, we find that a servant
with the fragrant herb. The hongs front has placed for us on a superb table in
upon the river, in order that carro -boats one of the pretty rooms cups of delicious
may approach them ; but they have also tea, -it being the custom in all the hongs
.another entrance at the end which opens to offer the beverage to strangers at all
from the suburbs. Imagine a building times. A cup of the aromatic Oulong
twelve hundred feet long by twenty to will serve to steady our nerves for the
forty broad, and in some portions fifty completion of the tea-lecture .
feet high, built of brick , of one story, The visitor will soon form some idea of
here and there open to the sky, with the the magnitude of the tea trade, by going
floor as level as that of a ropewalk, and from one hong to another, and finding
of such extent, that, to a person standing all of them filled with chests, while armies
at one end, forms at the other end ap- of coolies are bringing in chops, sorting
pear dwarfed, and men seem engaged cargoes, loading chop-boats, making lead
in noiseless occupations : you have here en canisters, packing, and labelling the
the picture of a Chinese hong. In these packages. A heavy gate, with brilliant.
warehouses the tea is assorted , repacked, figures painted on it, and adorned with
and then put on board the chop -boats enormous lanterns, swings yawning open,
and sent down the river to the ships at and admits the stranger. Just inside of
their anchorage off Whampoa. Here
Here the gate, at a little table, sits a man who
are enormous scales for weighing the keeps count of the coolies, as they enter
chests;3 here, where the light falls in from with chests of tea, and sees that they do
the roof, are tables placed for superin- not carry any out except for good rea
tendents, who carefully watch the work sons. Looking down the length of the
men ; farther off, are foreigners inspect- hong, a busy scene presents itself. It is
ing a newly arrived chop ; at the ex- crammed with big square chests just from
treme end is the little apartment where the tea regions, and piled up to the roof.
the tea merchant receives people upon Presently a string of coolies, stretching
business ; and through the high door be- out like a flock of wild geese, come
yond, we see the crowded river, and chop past, and set down chests enough on the
boats waiting for cargoes. At the river floor to cover half an acre. These half
end of the building a second story is add- naked fellows are nimble workmen, and
ed, often fitted up with immense suites of will upload a boat full of tea in an in
beautiful rooms, elegantly furnished, and credibly short time. Very valuable as
abounding with rare and costly articles an animal is the cooly : he is a Jack -at
of virtù. Here is a door leading bigher all-trades; works at the scull of a boat,
still, out upon the roof, which is flat. or in a tea pack -house ; bears a manda
Below us is the river with its myriads of rin's sedan-chair, or sweeps out a cham
boats, visible as far as the eye can reach, ber. His ideas are as limited as his
no less than eighty- four thousand belong. means, and nearly as much so as his
ing to Canton alone. On our right is the clothing ; but he works all day without
public square, where of late stood the grumbling at his lot, is cheerful, and
foreign factories, now destroyed by the seems to enjoy life, although he lives
mob , while the flags of France, Eng- on a few cents a day. He sleeps sound
land, and America have disappeared . ly at night, though his accommodations
1858.] Tea . 451

are such as an American beggar would boxes containing the finer kinds of teas
scorn . Any person visiting a long will with brilliant flowers or grotesque scenes .
sec on the sides of the building, at a con- About the season of the arrival of the
siderable elevation from the ground, a tea in Canton, the Chinese dealers come
number of shelves with divisions arranged to the foreign factories with “ musters, ”
like berths in a steamboat, intended for or samples in nice little tin canisters,
beds, but consisting of rough boards with with the names of the owners written
square wooden blocks for pillows. Each on paper pasted down the sides, and
onc is enclosed with a coarse blue mos- you can select such as you like. The
quito -netting; and mounting to the apart- principal business is of course held with
ments by a ladder, here the coolies sleep the tua merchants themselves, not those
the year round. who come from the North, but the Can
The teas are not generally brought to tonese, while the minor business of all
the hongs until sold. Before sale they the hongs is in a great measure con
are stored in warehouses, chiefly on Ho- ducted through the “ pursers,” or fore
nan Island, opposite the city ; but afier men , who act between the Chinese and
disposal the large-sized chests are carried the foreigners, bringing in the accounts
into the hongs, where they are sorted and to the shipping-houses, and receiving
Give one of
repacked into smaller boxes, according the orders for cargoes.
to the wants of the purchaser. You will these men an order for tea and go to
sec different parts of the floor covered the hong shortly afterward, you will find
with packages large and small, into which numbers of workmen employed for you ;
the coolies are shaking teas. Each box — some bringing in the small boxes ;
contains a leaden canister, into some of others filling them, or, when filled, fas
which the teas are loosely poured, while tened , papered, and covered with mat
in others the herb is wrapped in papers ting, securing them firmly with ratans;
of half a pound weight, cach stamped others, finally, labelling them on the out
with Chinese characters. · The canister
.
er covering, -- the labels being printed
is then closed by a lid, and afterward se- with the name of the vessel, of the tea
curely fastened down by the top of the merchant, of the tea, and of the Canton
chest. These canisters are made near at forwarding -house, also with the initials
hand. Look around , and a few rods off of the purchaser, and the number of the
you will see three or four expert hands lot. These labels are printed rapidly,
turning the large sheets of the prepared being cut by one set of hands to the
metal into shape. Knowing the required proper size for the use of the others who
size, the operators have a cubic block stamp them . All the types are carved
placed on the metal sheet, which, bend- in blocks of wood , and the whole fastened
ing like paper, is folded over the block, into a frame; then, in a little space just
assuming its shape, and the edges of large enough for work,—for the printer
the canister are instantly soldered by has no immense establishment with signs
a second hand ; a third , with the aiil of on the outside of " Book and Job Print
another wooden form, prepares the lils ; ing,"-a
– Chinaman will sit down, snatch
and thus a knot of half a dozen work up a paper in one hand , and stamp it
men , keeping steadily at their tasks, will instantly with the wooden block letters,
make a large number of canisters in a moistened with the coloring mixture used
day. Besides the laborers who cultivate in printing.
and those who cure the tea, and the por- When the teas are fairly ready to be
ters and boatmen who transport it, thou- conveyed to the ships, heavy cargo-boats
sanols are employed in different occupa- are moored at the foot of the hong, their
tions connected with the trade. Car- crews prepare for the chop, and the coo
penters make the chests, plumbers the lies within the hong stand ready to car
leaden canisters, while painters adorn the ry the chests. Every box is properly
452 Теа . [ February,
weighed, papered, and bound with split son by a tap on the head with her chop
ratan, the bill of the purchase has gone stick . There is but one dish, rice, of a
duly authenticated to the foreign facto- very ordinary sort and of a pink color,
ry, and the teas bid farewell to their but all seem to thrive upon it. The
native soil. The word is given, and meal over, the men smoke their pipes,
each cooly, placing his two chests in the and the wife washes her cooking utensils
ropes swinging from his shoulder - bar, with water drawn from the muddy river,
lifts them from the ground , and with and then , strapping her infant to her
brisk walk conveys them on board back , overhauls the scanty wardrobe and
the chop -boat, where they are carefully mends the ragged garments.
stowed away. As they are carried out It is interesting to mark how accu
of the hong, a fellow stands ready, and, rately the chop-boat is brought along
as if about to stab the packages, thrusts side of the ship for which it is destined .
at each one two sharp sticks with red No matter how strong the wind blows or
ends, leaving them jammed between the the tide runs, the sails are trimmed as
ratan and the tea -box. One of these occasion requires, and the big scull does
sticks is taken out when the chest its offices without ever the least mistake.
leaves the chop -boat, and the other The boat running under the quarter
when it reaches the deck of the vessel ; scrapes along the edge, the ropes are
and as soon as one hundred chests are thrown, caught, and belayed, and the
passed into the ship, the sticks are count- crew prepare for passing the cargo into
ed and thus serve as tallies. Should the the vessel's hold . The stevedores who
two bundles not correspond, chest is load the ships are very active men.
missing somewhere, and woc betide the They have also good heads, and , meas
blunderer ! uring the length, breadth, and height
In the busy season the chop -boats are of the hold , calculate pretty accurately
seen pushing down the river with every how many chests the ship will carry, and
favorable tide. As for pushing against the number of small boxes to be squeezed
the tide, no Chinaman ever thinks of into narrow places. When the hold is
such a thing, unless absolutely compel- full the hatch is fastened down and
led,—the value of time being quite un- caulkedl, as exposure to the salt air in
known in China. Coolly anchoring as jures the teas. The finest kinds are so
soon as the tide is adverse, the crew fall delicate , indeed, that they cannot be ex
to playing cards until it is time to get ported by sea ; for, however tightly seal
under way again. Nearly every chop- cd, they would deteriorate during the
boat contains a whole family , father, voyage. The very superior flavor no
mother, and children,-sometimes an old ticed by travellers in the tea used at St.
grandparent, also, being included in the Petersburg is doubtless to be attributed
domestic circle , and all assist in work- in an important measure to its overland
ing. At the stern of the boat the wife transportation, and its consequent escape
has a little cooking-apparatus, and pre- from dampness ; the large quantities con
pares the cheap rice for the squail of sumeil in Russia being, as before observ
eager gormandizers, who bolt it in huge ed , all carried from the northwest of
quantities without fear of indigestion. China to Kiakhta, whence it is distrib
The family sit down to their repast on uted over the empire.
the deck ; the men keep an eye to wind- One of the most remarkable and in
ward and a hand on the tiller; the moth- teresting facts in the history of commerce
er knots the cord that goes around the is the comparatively recent origin of the
baby's waist into an iron ring, and, feel- tea trade. The leaves of the tea-plant
ing secure against the bantling's falling were extensively used by the people of
overboard, chats sociably, occasionally China and Japan centuries before it was
enforcing a mild reproof to a vagabond known to Western nations. This is the
1858.] Tea . . 453

more singular from the fact that the silks of it in England is found in Pepys's
of China found their way to the West “ Diary," under date of September 25th,
at a very early period , -as early, at least, 1660,-as before quoted. In 1664, the
as the first century of the Christian era , East India Company presented to the
—while the use of tea in Europe dates king, among other “ raretyes, 2 lb. 2 oz.
back only about two hundred years. of “ thea ” ; and in 1667, they desire their
The earliest notices of its use in the agent at Bantam to send “ 100 lb. waight
countries where it is indigenous are of the best tey that he can gett.” * From
found in the writings of the Moorish this insignificant beginning the importa
historians and travellers, about the end tion has grown from year to year, until
of the eighth century, at which time the ninety million pounds went to Great Brit
Mahometans were freely allowed to visit ain in 1856, forty million coming to the
China, and travel through the empire United States the same year.
as they pleased. Soliman, an Arabian The “ Edinburgh Review ,” in an arti
merchant, who visited China about A. D. cle on this subject, says: “ The progress
850, describes it under the name of Sah, of this fainous plant has been somewhat
as being the favorite beverage of the like the progress of Truth ;-suspected
people ; and Ibn Batuta, A. D. 1323, at first, though very palatable to those
speaks of it as used for correcting the bad who had the courage to taste it ; resisted
properties of water, and as a medicine . as it encroached ; abused as its popularity
Mandelslo , a German, who travelled in seemed to spread ; and establishing its
India, 1638-40, in describing the cus- triumph at last in cheering the whole
toms of the European merchants at Su- land , from the palace to the cottage, only
rat, speaks of tea as of something un- by the slow and resistless efforts of time
familiar. The reasons he gives for drink- and its own virtues. "
ing both it and coffee are charmingly in- Many substitutes for tea are in vogue
congruous, as is generally the casc whenamong the Chinese, but in general only
9

men undertake to find some solemn ex- the very lowest of the population are
cuse for doing what they like. “ At our debarred the use of the genuine article.
ordinary meetings every day we took Being the universal drink, it is found at
only Thé, which is commonly used all all times in every house. Few are so
over the Indies, not only among those poor that a simmering tea -pot does not
of the Country, but among the Dutch stand ever filled for the visitor. It is
and English, who take it as a Drug that invariably offered to strangers ; and any
cleanses the stomach and digests the su- omission to do so is considered , and is
perfluous humours, by a temperate heat usually intended , as a slight. It appears
particular thereto. The Persians, in- to be preferred by the people to any oth
stead of Thé, drink their Kahwu, which er beverage, even in the hottest weath
cools, and abates the natural heat which er ; and while Americans in the beats
Thé preserves .” Of its first introduc- of July would gladly resort to ice -water
tion into Europe little is known. In 1517, or lemonade, the Chinaman will quench
King Emanuel of Portugal sent a fleet his thirst with large draughts of boiling
of eight ships to China, and an embas- tea .
sy to Peking; but it was not until after The Muse of China has not disdained
the formation of the Dutch East India to warble harmonious numbers in praise
Company, in 1602, that the use of tea of her favorite beverage. There is a
became known on the Continent, and celebrated ballad on tea-picking, in thir
even then , although the Hollanders paid ty stanzas, sung by a young woman who
much attention to it, it made its way goes from home early in the day to work,
slowly for many years. The first notice and lightens her labors with song. I give
* Mandelslo's Voyages and Travels into the * Grant's History of the East India Company.
East Indies, p . 18, ed . 1662. London, 1813, p. 76.
454
a few of the verses, distinctly informing
the reader, at the same time, that for the
real sparkle and beauty of the poem he
must consult the Chinese original.
16
By earliest dawn I at my toilet only half
dress my hair ,
And scizing my basket, pass the door, while
vet the mist is thick .
The little maids and graver dames, hand in
hand winding along,
Ask me , • Which steep of Semglo do you
climb to -day ? '
“ In social comples, each to nid her fellow , we
seize the tea twigs,
And in low words urge one another, ' Don't
delay ! '
Lest on the topmost bough the bud has now
grown old ,
And lest with the morrow come the drizzling
silky rain .
“ My curls and hair are all awry, my face is
quite begrimed ;
In whose house lives the girl so ugly as your
slave ?
'Tis only because that every day the tea I'm
forced to pick ;
The soaking rains and driving winds have
spoiled my former charms.
“ Each picking is with toilsomo labor, but yet
I shun it not ;
My maiden curls are all askew, my pearly
fingers all benumbed ;
But I only wish our tea to be of a superfine
kind ,
To have it equal his ' Sparrow's Tongue ' and
their • Dragon's Pellet .'
“ For a whole month where can I catch a sin
gle leisure day ?
For at the earliest dawn I go to pick, and not
till dusk return ;
Till the deep midnight I'm still before the
firing- pan.
Will not labor like this my pearly complexion
deface ?
“ But if my face is lank , my mind is firmly
fixed
So to fire my golden buds they shall excel all
beside .
Tea. [ February,
But how know I who'll put them into the
geminy cup ?
Who at leisure will with her taper fingers
give them to the maid to draw ? ”
Will any onc say, after this, that there
is no poetry connected with tea ?
The theme, in truth , is replete with
poctical associations, and of a kind that
we look in vain for in connection with
any other potable. Unlike the Anac
reontic in praise of the grape, -song
suggestive chiefly of bacchanal revels
and loose jollity, — the verse which ex
tols “the cup that cheers, but not inebri
ates," brings to mind home comforts and
a happy household . And not only have
some of the “ canonized bards" of Eng
land celebrated its honors, -like Pope,
in the “ Rape of the Lock ,” when de
scribing Ilampton Court, -
“ There, thou great Anna , whom three realms
obey,
Dost sometimes counsel take, and sometines
ten ,"
but, if it be true that
“ Many are poets who have never penned
Their inspiration ,"
how many an unknown bard have we
among us, who, at the close of a hard
day's work, tramps cheerily home, whis
tling
“ Molly, put the kettle on ,
We'll all have tea ,"
and thinking of a well-spread board , a
simmering urn, a sweet wife, and rosy
checked children, waiting his coming.
Grave father of a family ! your heart has
grown cold and hard , if you have ceased
to enjoy such scenes. Young husband !
cannot you remember the first time you
hoped with good reason , when, as you
took leave after an afternoon call, a pair
of witching eyes looked into yours, and a
sweet voice sounded sweeter, as it timidly
asked , “ Won't you stay - and take a cup
of tea ? ”
1858.] The Old Burying - Ground. 455

THE OLD BURYING -GROUND .

Our vales are sweet with fern and rose,
Our hills are maple-crowned ;
But not from them our fathers chose
The village burying -ground.
The dreariest spot in all the land
To Death they set apart ;
With scanty grace from Nature's hand,
And none from that of Art.

A winding wall of mossy stone,

Frost-flung and broken, lines
A lonesome acre thinly grown
With grass and wandering vines.
Without the wall aa birch -tree shows
Its drooped and tasselled head ;
Within, a stag -horned sumach grows,
Fern -leafed with spikes of red.

There, sheep that graze the neighboring plain

Like white ghosts come and go,
The farm - horse drags his fetlock chain,
The cow -bell tinkles slow .

Low moans the river from its bed,

The distant pines reply :
Like mourners shrinking from the dead ,
They stand apart and sigh.
Unshaded smites the summer sun ,
Unchecked the winter blast ;
The school-girl learns the place to shun,
With glances backward cast.
For thus our fathers testified
That he might read who ran
The emptiness of human pride,
The nothingness of man.
They dared not plant the grave with flowers,
Nor dress the funeral sod ,
Where, with aa love as deep as ours,
They left their dead with God.
The hard and thorny path they kept,
From beauty turned aside ;
436 The Old Burying -Ground. [ February,
Nor missed they over those who slept
The grace to life denied.

Yet still the wilding flowers would blow ,

The golden leaves would fall,
The seasons come, the seasons go .
And God be good to all.
Above the graves the blackberry hung
In bloom and green its wreath ,
And barebells swung as if they rung
The chimes of peace beneath .

The beauty Nature loves to share,

The gifts she hath for all,
The common light, the common air,
O'ercrept the graveyard's wall.
It knew the glow of eventide,
The sunrise and the noon ,
And glorified and sanctified
It slept beneath the moon .
With flowers or snow - flakes for its sod,
Around the seasons ran ,
And evermore the love of God
Rebuked the fear of man .

We dwell with fears on either hand,

Within a daily strife,
And spectral problems waiting stand
Before the gates of life.
The doubts we vainly seek to solve,
The truths we know , are one ;
The known and nameless stars revolve
Around the Central Sun.

And if we reap as we have sown ,

And take the dole we deal,
The law of pain is love alone,
The wounding is to heal.
Unharmed from change to change we glide,
We fall as in our dreams;
The far-off terror, at our side,
A smiling angel seems.
Secure on God's all-tender heart
Alike rest great and small;
Why fear to lose our little part,
When He is pledged for all ?
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 457

O fearful heart and troubled brain !

Take hope and strength from this ,
That Nature never hints in vain ,
Nor prophesies amiss.

Her wild birds sing the same sweet stave,

Her lights and airs are given,
Alike to playground and the grave,-
And over both is Heaven.

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST - TABLE.

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.

[ I am so well pleased with my board- or less propriety, in the conversation.

ing-house that I intend to remain there. This is one of my privileges as a talker ;
perhaps for years. Of course I shall and of course, if I was not talking for our
have a great many conversations to re- whole company, I don't expect all the
port, and they will necessarily be of dif- readers of this periodical to be interested
ferent tone and on different subjects. in my notes of what was said. Still, I
The talks are like the breakfasts,--some- think there may be aa few that will rather
times dipped toast, and sometimes dry. like this vein, -possibly prefer it to a
-

You must take them as they come. How livelier one, -serious young men, and
can I do what all these letters ask me to ? young women generally, in life's roscate
No. 1. wants serious and earnest thought. parenthesis from years of age to
No. 2. ( letter smells of bad cigars ) must inclusive.
have more jokes ; wants me to tell a Another privilege of talking is to mis
“ good storey ” that he has copied out for quote . — Of course it wasn't Proserpina
me. (I suppose two letters before the that actually cut the yellow hair,-but
word “ good ” refer to some Doctor of Iris. It was the former lady's regular
Divinity who told the story.) No. 3. (in business, but Dido had used herself un
female hand ) -- more poetry. No. 4. genteelly, and Madame d'Enfer stood
wants something that would be of usc to firm on the point of etiquette. So the
a practical man. ( Prahctical mahn he bathycolpian Here — Juno, in Latin
probably pronounces it.) No. 5. ( gilt- sent down Iris instead. But I was
6
edged , sweet-scented ) — “ more senti. mightily pleased to see that one of the
ment, ”-Z “ heart's outpourings."- gentlemen that do the heavy articles
My dear friends, one and all, I can do for this magazine misquoted Campbell's
nothing but report such remarks as I hap- line without any excuse. “ Waft us home
pen to have made at our breakfast-table. the message " of course it ought to be.
Their character will depend on many ac- Will he be duly grateful for the correc
cidents , -a good deal on the particular tion ?]
persons in the company to whom they - The more we study the body and
were addressed . It so happens that the mind, the more we find both to be
those which follow were mainly intended governed, not by, but according to laws,
for the divinity -student and the school- such as we observe in the larger uni
mistress; though others, whom I need not verse. — You think you know all about
mention, saw fit to interfere, with more walking ,-don't you, now ? Well, how
458 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ February,
do you suppose your lower limbs are held Yes, indeed ; they have often been struck
to your body ? They are sucked up by by it.
two cupping vessels, (“ cotyloid ” — (up- All at once a conviction flashes through
like - cavities,) and held there as long us that we have been in the same precise
as you live , and longer. At any rate, circumstances as at the present instant,
you think you move them backward and once or many times before.
forward at such a rate as your will deter- 0, dear, yes !-- said one of the com
mines, don't you ? On the contrary, pany,—every body has had that feeling.
they swing just as any other pendulums The landlady didn't know anything
swing, at a fixed rate , determined by about such notions ; it was an idee in
their length. You can alter this by mus- folks' heads, she expected.
cular power, as you can take hold of the The schoolmistress said, in a hesitating
pendulum of a clock and make it move sort of way, that she knew the feeling
faster or slower ; but your ordinary gait well , and didn't like to experience it ; it
is timed by the same mechanism as the made her think she was a ghost, some
movements of the solar system . times .
[ My friend, the Professor, told me The young fellow whom they call John
all this, referring me to certain German said he knew all about it ; he had just
physiologists by the name of Weber for lighted a cheroot the other day, when a
proof of the facts, which, however, he tremendous conviction all at once came
said he had often verified . I appropri- over him that he had done just that
ated it to my own use ; what can one same thing ever so many times before .
do better than this, when one has a I looked severely at him , and his counte
friend that tells him anything worth re- nance immediately fell — on the sile to
membering ? ward me ; I cannot answer for the other,
The Professor seems to think that man for he can wink and laugh with either
and the general powers of the universe half of his face without the other half's
are in partnership. Some one was saya knowing it.
ing that it had cost nearly half a mil- I have noticed-I went on to say
lion to move the Leviathan only so far as -the following circumstances connected
they had got it already. - Why , —said with these sudden impressions. First,
the Professor, —they might have hired an that the condition which seems to be the
EARTHQUAKE for less money ! ] duplicate of a former one is often very
Just as we find a mathematical rule trivial, onethat might have presented it
at the bottoin of many of the bodily self a hundred times. Secondly, that the
movements, just so thought may be sup- impression is very evanescent, and that
posed to have its regular cycles. Such or it is rarely, if ever, recalled by any vol
such a thought comes round periodically, untary effort, at least after any time has
in its turn . Accidental suggestions, how- elapsed. Thirdly, that there is a disincli
a

ever, so far interfere with the regular nation to record the circumstances, and a
cycles, that we may find them practi- sense of incapacity to reproluce the state
cally beyond our power of recognition of mind in words. Fourthly, I have of
Take all this for what it is worth, but at ten felt that the duplicate condition had
any rate you will agree that there are cer- not only occurred once before, but that
tain particular thoughts that do not come it was familiar, and , as it seemed, habit
up once a day, nor once a week, but ual. Lastly, I have had the same con
that a year would hardly go round with- victions in my dreams.
out your having them pass through your How do I account for it ? - Why,there
mind. Here is one that comes up at in are several way's that I can mention , and
tervals in this way. Some one speaks you may take your choice. The first is
of it, and there is an instant and eager that which the young laly hinted at;
smile of assent in the listener or listeners. that these flashes are sudden recollections
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 459

of a previous existence. I don't believe my little aspirations and passions like

that ; for I remember a poor student I another, some of these things got mixed
used to know told me he had such a con- up with each other : orange-colored fumes
viction one day when he was blacking of nitrous acid, and visions as bright and
his boots, and I can't think he had ever transient ; reddening litmus-paper, and
lived in another world where they use blushing cheeks ; —eheu !
Day and Martin.
“ Soles occidere et redire possunt,"
Some think that Dr. Wigan's doctrine
of the brain's being a double organ, its but there is no reagent that will redden
hemispheres working together like the the faded roses of eighteen hundred and
two eyes, accounts for it. One of the spare them ! But, as I was saying,
hemispheres hangs fire, they suppose , phosphorus fires this train of associations
and the small interval between the per- in an instant; its luminous vapors with
ceptions of the nimble and the sluggish their penetrating odor throw ine into
half seeins an indefinitely long period , a trance ; it comes to me in a double
and therefore the second perception ap- sense trailing clouds of glory.” Only
pears to be the copy of another, ever so the confounded Vienna matches, ohne
old. But even allowing the centre of phosphor-geruch, have worn my sensi
perception to be double, I can see no bilities a l'ttle .
good reason for supposing this indefinite Then there is the marigold. When I
lengthening of the time , nor any analogy was of smallest dimensions, and wont to
that bears it out. It seems to me most ride impacted between the knees of fond
likely that the coincidence of circum- parental pair, we would sometimes cross
stances is very partial, but that we take the bridge to the next village-town and
this partial resemblance for identity, as stop opposite a low, brown, “ gambrel
we occasionally do resemblances of per- roofed ” cottae. Out of it would come
sons. A momentary posture of circum- one Sally, sister of its swarthy tenant,
stances is so far like some preceding swarthy herself, shady-lipped, sad -voiced ,
one that we accept it as exactly the same, and, bending over her flower-bed , would
just as we accost a stranger occasionally, gather a “ posy," as she called it, for the
mistaking bim for a friend. The appar- little boy. Sally lies in the churchyard
ent similarity may be owing, perhaps, with a slab of blue slate at her head ,
quite as much to the mental state at the lichen -crusted, and leaning a little within
time as to the outward circumstances. the last few years. Cottage, garden
Here is another of these curiously beds, posies, grenadier-like rows of seed
recurring remarks. I have said it and ling onions - stateliest of vegetables,--all
heard it many times, and occasionally are gone, but the breath of a marigold
met with something like it in books, - brings thein all back to me.
somewhere in Bulwer's novels, I think, Perhaps the herb everlasting, the fra
and in one of the works of Mr. Olmsted , grant immortelle of our autumn fields,
I know. has the most suggestive odor to me of all
Memory, imagination, old sentiments those that sct me dreaming. I can hard
and associations, are more readily reach- ly describe the strange thoughts and
ed through the sense of smell than by al- emotions that come to me as I inhale the
most any other channel. aroma of its pale, dry, rustling flowers.
Of course the particular olors which A something it has of sepulchral spicery ,
act upon each person's susceptibilities as if it had been brought from the core
differ. — 0 , yes ! I will tell you some of of some great pyramid, where it had lain
mine. The smell of phosphorus is one of on the breast of a mummied Pharaoh.
them . During a year or two of adoles- Something, too, of immortality in the sad,
cence I used to be dabbling in chemistry faint sweetness lingering so long in its
a good deal, and as about that time I had lifeless petals. Yet this does not tell
460 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ February ,
why it fills my eyes with tears and car- ter -dinners at the Trois Frères, when the
nes na in blissful thought to the banks Scotch -plaided snuff-box went round, and
of asphodel that border the River of the dry Lundy-Foot tickled its way along
Life. into our happy sensoria ? Then it was
-I should not have talked so much that the Chambertin or the Clôt Vougeot
about these personal susceptibilities, if I came in , slumbering in its straw cradle.
had not a remark to make about them And one anong you, - do you remember
that I believe is a new one. It is this. how he would have a bit of ice always in
There may be a physical reason for the his Burgundy, and sit tinkling it against
strange connection between the sense the sides of the bubble -like glass, saying
of smell and the mind. The olfactory that he was bearing the cow -bells as he
nerve - so my friend, the Professor, tells used to hear them , when the deep-breath
me—is the only one directly connected ing kine came home at twilight from the
with the hemispheres of the brain , the huckleberry pasture, in the old home a
parts in which, as we bave every reason thousand leagues towards the sunset ? ]
to believe, the intellectual processes are Ah , me ! what strains and strophes of
performed. To speak more truly, the unwritten verse pulsate through my soul
"
olfactory “ nerve” is not a nerve at all, when I open a certain closet in the
he says, but a part of the brain, in inti- ancient house where I was born ! On
matc connection with its anterior lobes. its shelves used to lie bundles of sweet
Whether this anatomical arrangement is marjoram and pennyroyal and laven
at the bottom of the facts I have men- der and mint and catnip ; there apples
tioned , I will not decide, but it is curious were stored until their seeds should
enough to be worth remembering. Con- grow black, which happy period there
trast the sense of taste , as a source of were sharp little milk -teeth always ready
sugerestive impressions , with that of smell. to anticipate ; there peaches lay in the
Now the Professor assures me that you dark, thinking of the sunshine they had
will find the nerve of taste has no im- lost, until, like the hearts of saints that
mediate connection with the brain proper, dream of heaven in their sorrow , they
but only with the prolongation of the grew fragrant as the breath of angels.
spinal cord. The odorous echo of a score of dead sum
[ The old gentleman opposite did not mers lingers yet in those dim recesses.
pay much attention, I think , to this hy- Do I remember Byron's line
pothesis of mine. But while I was speak- about “ striking the electric chain " ? — To
ing about the sense of smell he nestled be sure I do. I sometimes think the less
about in his scat, and presently succeeded the hint that stirs the automatic machinery
in getting out a large red bandanna of association, the more easily this moves
handkerchief. Then he lurched a little us. What can be more trivial than that
to the other side, and after much tribula- old story of opening the folio Shakspeare
tion at last extricated an ample round that used to lie in some ancient English
snuff-box . I looked as he opened it and hall and finding the fakes of Christmas
felt for the wonted pugil. Moist rap- pastry between its leaves, shut up in
pee, and aa Tonka -bean lying therein. I them perhaps a hundred years ago ?
made the manual sign understood of all And, lo ! as one looks on these poor
mankind that use the precious dust, and relics of a bygone generation, the uni
presently my brain, too, responded to the verse changes in the twinkling of an eye ;
long unused stimulus.- -O boys,-- that old George the Second is back again,
were,-actual papas and possible grand- and the elder Pitt is coming into power,
papas, —some of you with crowns like and General Wolfe is a fine, promising
billiard -balls,—some in locks of sable sil- young man , and over the Channel they
vered, and some of silver sabled , —do you are pulling the Sieur Damiens to pieces
remember, as you doze over this, those af- with wild horses, and across the Atlantic
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 461

the Indians are tomahawking Hirams speak lightly of is not old, but courtesy
and Jonathans and Jonases at Fort Wil- to those who labor to serve us, especially
liam Henry ; all the dead people that if they are of the weaker sex, is very
have been in the dust so long - even to old, and yet well worth retaining. The
the stout-armed cook that made the pas- pasty looks to me as if it were tender,
try — are alive again ; the planet un- but I know that the hearts of women are
winds a hundred of its luminous coils, so . May I recommend to you the fol
and the precession of the equinoxes is lowing caution, as a guide, whenever you
retraced on the dial of heaven ! And are dealing with a woman , or an artist,
all this for a bit of pie -crust ! or a poet;-if you are handling an editor
-I will thank you for that pie - or politician , it is superfluous advice. I
said the provoking young fellow whom I take it from the back of one of those
have named repeatedly. He looked at little French toys which contain paste
it for a moment, and put his hands to his board figures moved by a small running
eyes as if moved.—I was thinking,-he stream of fine sand ; Benjamin Franklin
66
said, indistinctly will translate for you : Quoiqu'elle
How ? What is't ?—said our land- soit très solidement montée, il faut ne pas
lady. BRUTALISER la machine."-I will thank
- I was thinking — said he — who
-
you for the pie, if you please.
was king of England when this old pie [ I took more of it than was good for
was baked , and it made me feel bad to me, -as much as 85°, I should think ,
think how long he must have been dead . and had an indigestion in consequence.
[Our landlady is a decent body, poor, While I was suffering from it, I wrote
and a widow, of course ; celà ra sans some sadly desponıling poems, and a theo
dire. She told me her story once ; it logical essay which took a very melan
was as if a grain of corn that had been choly view of creation. When I got
ground and bolted had tried to individu- better I labelled them all “ Pie -crust, ”
alize itself by a special narrative . There and laid them by as scarecrows an:
was the wooing and the wedding ,—the solemn warnings . I have a number of
start in life,—the disappointment ,—the books on my shelves that I should like to
children she had buried , —the struggle label with some such title ; but, as they
against fate,--the dismantling of life, first have great names on their title-pages,
of its small luxuries, and then of its Doctors of Divinity, some of them ,-it
comforts ,—the broken spirits , —the alter- wouldn't do.]
ed character of the one on whom she -My friend, the Professor, whom I
leaned ,—and at last the death that came have mentioned to you once or twice, told
and drew the black curtain between her me yesterday that somebody had been
and all her earthly hopes. abusing him in some of the journals of
I never laughed at my landlady after his calling. I told him that I didn't doubt
she had told me her story, but I often he deserved it ; that I hoped he did de
cried,-not those pattering tears that run serve a little abuse occasionally, and would
off the eaves upon our neighbors' grounds, for a number of years to come ; that
the stillicidium of self -conscious senti- nobody could do anything to make his
ment, but those which steal noiselessly neighbors wiser or better without being
through their conduits until they reach liable to abuse for it ; especially that
the cisterns lying round about the heart ; people hated to have their little mistakes
those tears that we weep inwardly with made fun of, and perhaps he had been
unchanging features ;—such I did shed doing something of the kind.—The Pro
for her often when the imps of the board- fessor smiled . — Now , said I, hear what I
ing -house Inferno tugged at her soul with am going to say. It will not take many
their red -hot pincers.] years to bring you to the period of life
Young man ,-I said , —the pasty you when men , at least the majority of writ
 462 The Autocrat of the Break fast- Table. [ February ,
ing and talking men, do nothing but must be made the most of, for their day
praise. Men, like peaches and pears, is soon over. Some come into their
grow sweet a little while before they be perfect condition late, like the autumn
gin to decay. I don't know what it is,- kinds, and they last better than the
whether a spontaneous change, mental or summer fruit. And some, that, like the
bodily, or whether it is thorough experi- Winter- Nelis, have been hard and unin
ence of the thanklessness of critical hon- viting until all the rest have had their
esty',—but it is a fact, that most writers, scason , get their glow and perfume long
except sour and unsuccessful ones, get after the frost and snow have done their
tired of finding fault at about the time worst with the orchards. Beware of
when they are beginning to grow old. rash criticisms; the rough and astringent
As a general thing, I would not give a fruit you condemn may be an autumn or
great deal for the fair words of a critic, a winter pear, and that which you picked
if he is hiinself an author, over fifty up beneath the saine bough in August
years of age. At thirty we are all trying may have been only its worm -eaten wind
to cut our names in big letters upon the falls. Milton was a Saint-Germain with
walls of this tenement of life ; twenty a graft of the roseate Early -Catherine.
years later we have carved it, or shut up Rich, juicy, lively, fragrant, russet-skin
our jack-knives. Then we are ready to ned old Chaucer was an Easter-Beurré ;
help others, and care less to hinder any, the buds of a new summer were swelling
because nobody's elbows are in our way. when he ripened.
So I am glad you have aa little life left ; - There is no power I envy so
you will be saccharine enough in a few much — said the divinity-student— as that
years. of secing analogies and making com
-Some of the softening effects of parisons. I don't understand how it is
advancing age have struck me very much that some minds are continually coup
in what I have heard or seen here and ling thoughts or objects that seem not in
clsewhere. I just now spoke of the the least related to each other, until all
sweetening process that authors undergo. at once they are put in a certain light,
Do you know that in the gradual pas- and you wonder that you did not always
sage from maturity to helplessness the see that they were as like as a pair of
harshest characters sometimes have a twins. It appears to me a sort of mi
period in which they are gentle and raculous gift.
placid as young children ? I have heard [ He is rather a nice young man, and
it said , but I cannot be sponsor for its I think has an appreciation of the higher
truth , that the famous chieftain , Lochiel , mental qualities remarkable for one of
was rocked in a cradle like a baby, in his years and training. I try his head oc
his old age. An old man, whose studies casionally as housewives try ergs - give
had been of the severest scholastic kind , it an intellectual shake and hold it up to
used to love to hear little nursery -stories the light, so to speak, to see if it has
read over and over to him . One who life in it, actual or potential, or only con
saw the Duke of Wellington in his last tains lifeless albumen .]
years describes him as very gentle in his You call it miraculous,—I replied ,
aspect and demeanor. I remember a tossing the expression with my facial
person of singularly stern and lofty bear- eminence, a little smartly, I fear.
ing who became remarkably gracious Two men are walking by the poly
and easy in all his ways in the later phlæsbæan ocean , one of them having
period of his life. a small tin cup with which he can scoop
And that leads me to say that men up a gill of sea-water when he will, and
often remind me of pears in their way the other nothing but his hands, which
of coming to maturity. Some are ripe will hardly hold water at all,—and you
at twenty, like human Jargonelles, and call the tin cup a miraculous posses
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 463

sion ! It is the occan that is the miracle, heard them called ,—thus: He was hon
my infant apostle ! Nothing is clearer orable, courteous, and brave ; she was
than that all things are in all things, and graceful, pleasing, and virtuous. Dr.
that just according to the intensity and Johnson is famous for this ; I think it
extension of our mental being we shall was Bulwer who said you could separate
see the many in the one and the one in a paper in the “Rambler ” into three dis
the many. Did Sir Isaac think what he tinct essays . Many of our writers show
was saying when he made his speech the same tendency ,—my friend, the Pro
about the occan ,—the child and the peb- fessor, especially . Some think it is in
bles, you know ? Did he mean to speak humble imitation of Johnson ,—some that
slightingly of a pebble ? Of a spherical it is for the sake of the stately sound only.
solid which stood sentinel over its com- I don't think they get to the bottom of it.
partment of space before the stone that It is, I suspect, an instinctive and invol
became the pyramids had grown solid , untary effort of the mind to present a
and has watched it until now ! A body thought or image with the three dimen
which knows all the currents of force sions that belong to every solid , --an un
that traverse the globe ; which holds by conscious handling of an idea as if it had
invisible thrcads to the ring of Saturn length , breadth , and thickness. It is a
and the belt of Orion ! A body from great deal easier to say this than to prove
the contemplation of which an arch- it, and a great deal easier to dispute it
angel could inſer the entire inorganic than to disprove it. But mind this : the
universe as the simplest of corollaries ! more we observe and study , the wider
A throne of the all-pervading Deity, who we find the range of the automatic and
has guided its every atom since the rosary instinctive principles in body, mind , and
of heaven was strung with beaded stars ! morals, and the narrower the limits of
So,—to return to our walk by the the self-determining conscious move
ocean , -if all that poetry has dreamed , ment.
all that insanity has raved, all that mad- I have often seen piano-forte
dening narcotics have driven through players and singers make such strange
the brains of men, or smothered passion motions over their instruments or song
nursed in the fancies of women,-if the books that I wanted to laugh at them .
dreams of colleges and convents and “ Where did our friends pick up all these
boarding -schools ,-if every human feel- fine ecstatic airs ?” I would say to myself.
ing that sighs, or smiles, or curses, or Then I would remember My Lady in
shrieks, or groans, should bring all their “ Marriage à la Mode," and amuse myself
innumerable images, such as come with with thinking how affectation was the
cvery hurried heart-beat,—the epic that same thing in Hogarth's time and in our
held them all , though its letters filled own .
But one day I bought me a Ca
the zodiac, would be but a cupful from nary -bird and hung him up in a cage at
the infinite ocean of similitucles and my window . By-and -by he found him
analogies that rolls through the universe. self at home, and began to pipe his little
[ The divinity -student honored himself tunes ; and there he was, sure enongh,
by the way in which he received this. swimming and waving about, with all the
He did not swallow it at once, neither droopings and liftings and languishing
did he reject it ; but he took it as a side-turnings of the head that I had
pickerel takes the bait, and carried it off laughed at. And now I should like to
with him to his hole (in the fourth story) ask, Who taught him all this ? -and me,
to deal with at his leisure .] through him, that the foolish head was
-Here is another remark made for not the one swinging itself from side to
his especial benefit.— There is a natural side and bowing and nodding over the
tendency in many persons to run their music, but that other which was passing
adjectives together in triads, as I have its shallow and self-satisfied judgment on
464 The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table. [ February,
a creature made of finer clay than the bed -backed, clean - typed, vellum -paper
frame which carried that same head upon ed 32mo. “ DESIDERI ERASMI COLLO
its shoulders ? QUIA. Amstelodanni. Typis Ludovici
-Do you want an image of the Elzevirii. 1650." Various names writ
human will, or the self-determining prin- ten on title-page. Most conspicuous this :
ciple, as compared with its prearranged Gul. Cookeson : E. Coll. Omn. Anim .
and impassable restrictions ? A drop of 1725 . Oxon.
water, imprisoned in a crystal; you may -0 William Cookeson , of All
see such a one in any mineralogical col- Souls College, Oxford , —then writing as
lection. One little fluid particle in the I now write, —now in the dust, where I
crystalline prison of the solid universe ! sball lie ,-is this line all that remains
-Weaken moral obligations ?—No, to thee of earthly remembrance ? Thy
not weaken, but define them . When I name is at least once more spoken by
preach that sermon I spoke of the other living men ;-is it a pleasure to thee ?
day, I shall have to lay down some prin- Thou shalt share with me my little
ciples not fully recognized in some of draught of immortality ,-its week,, its
your text-books. month, its year,—whatever it may be , –
I should have to begin with one and then we will go together into the
most formidable preliminary. You saw solemn archives of Oblivion's Uncata
an article the other day in one of the logued Library ! ]
journals, perhaps, in which some old -If you think I have used rather
Doctor or other said quietly that patients strong language, I shall have to read
were very apt to be fools and cowards. something to you out of the book of this
But a great many of the clergyman's keen and witty scholar, —the great Eras
patients are not only fools and cowards, mus,--who “ laid the age of the Refor
but also liars. mation which Luther hatched .” Oh, you
[ Immense sensation at the table.- never read his Naufragium , or “ Ship
wreck," did you ? Of course not; for, if
Sudden retirement of the angular female
in oxydated bombazine. Movement of you bad, I don't think you would have
adhesion — as they say in the Chamber given me credit-or discredit - for entire
of Deputies - on the part of the young originality in that speech of mine. That
fellow they call John. Falling of the old- men are cowards in the contemplation of
gentleman -opposite's lower jaw- (gravi- futurity he illustrates by the extraordi
tation is beginning to get the better of nary antics of many on board the sinking
bim). Our landlady to Benjamin Frank- vessel; that they are fools, by their
lin, briskly, — Go to school right off, praying to the sea , and making promises
there's a good boy! Schoolmistress cu- to bits of wood from the true cross, and
rious, – takes a quick glance at di- all manner of similar nonsense ; that they
vinity -student. Divinity -student slightly are fools, cowards, and liars all at once,
Alushed ; draws bis shoulders back a little, by this story : I will put it into rough
as if aa bi : falsehood - or truth - had hit English for you.— " I couldn't help laugh
him in the forehead. Myself calm.] ing to hear one fellow bawling out, so
-I should not make such a speech that he might be sure to be heard, a
as that, you know, without having pretty promise to Saint Christopher of Paris
substantial indorsers to fall back upon, in the monstrous statue in the great church
case my credit should be disputed . Will there — that he would give him a wax
you run up stairs, Benjamin Franklin, taper as big as himself. • Mind what
( for B. F. had not gone right off, of you promise !' said an acquaintance that
course ,) and bring down a small volume stood near him, poking him with his el
from the left upper corner of the right- bow ; ' you couldn't pay for it, if you sold
6
hand shelves ? all your things at auction .' • Hold your
[ Look at the precious little black, rib- tongue, you donkey !' said the fellow ,
1858.] The Autucrat of the Breakfasl - Table. 465

but softly, so that Saint Christopher now . My remarks might be repeated,

should not hear him ,—do you think I'm and it would give my friends pain to see
in carnest ? If I once get my foot on with what personal incivilities I should
dry ground, catch me giving him so much be visited. Besides, what business has a
as a tallow candle ! ' ” mere boarder to be talking about such
Now, therefore, remembering that those things at a breakfast-table ? Let him
who have been loudest in their talk about make puns. To be sure , he was brought
the great subject of which we were up among the Christian fathers, and
speaking have not necessarily been wise, learned his alphabet out of a quarto
brave, and true men, but, on the contrary, “ Concilium Tridentinum . " He has also
have very often been wanting in one or heard many thousand theological lec
two or all of the qualities these words tures by men of various denominations;
imply, I should expect to find a good and it is not at all to the credit of these
many doctrines current in the schools teachers, if he is not fit by this time
which I should be obliged to call foolish , to express an opinion on theological
cowardly, and false. matters.
-So you would abuse other peo I know well enough that there are
ple's beliefs, Sir, and yet not tell us your some of you who had a great deal rather
own creed !-said the divinity -student, see me stand on my head than use it
coloring up with a spirit for which I liked for any purpose of thought. Does not
him all the better. my friend, the Professor, receive at least
-I have a creed ,-I replied ;-none two letters a week, requesting him to
better, and none shorter. It is told in : , - on the
two words, —the two first of the Pater- strength of some youthful antic of his,
noster. And when I say these words I which, no doubt, authorizes the intelli
mean them . And when I compared the gent constituency of autograph -hunters
human will to a drop in a crystal, and to address him as a harlequin ?
said I meant to define moral obligations, -Well, I can't be savage with you
and not weaken them , this was what I for wanting to laugh, and I like to make
intended to express : that the fluent, you laugh, wellenough, when I can. But
self-determining power of human beings then observe this : if the sense of the ridic
is a very strictly limited agency in the ulous is one side of an impressible na
universe. The chief planes of its en- ture , it is very well ; but if that is all
closing solid are, of course, organization, there is in a man, he had better have
education, condition. Organization may been an ape at once, and so have stood
reduce the power of the will to nothing, at the head of his profession . Laughter
as in some idiots ; and from this zero the and tears are meant to turn the wheels
scale mounts upwards by slight grada- of the same machinery of sensibility ;
tions. Education is only second to na- one is wind -power, and the other water
ture. Imagine all the infants born this power ; that is all. I have often heard
year in Boston and Timbuctoo to change the Professor talk about hysterics as
places! Condition does less, but “ Give being Nature's cleverest illustration of
me neither poverty nor riches ” was the the reciprocal convertibility of the two
prayer of Agur, and with good reason . states of which these acts are the mani
If there is any improvement in modern festations ; but you may see it every day
theology, it is in getting out of the region in children ; and if you want to choke
7

of pure abstractions and taking these with stifled tears at sight of the transition ,
every -day working forces into account. as it shows itself in older years, go and
The great theological question now heav- see Mr. Blake play Jesse Rural.
ing and throbbing in the minds of Chris- It is a very dangerous thing for aа lit
tian men is this : erary man to indulge his love for the
No, I wont talk about these things ridiculous. People laugh with him just
VOL . I. 30
466 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ February,
so long as he amuses them ; but if he their attention ,-for a while, at least ,
attempts to be serious, they must still as beggars, and nuisances ? They always
have their laugh, and so they laugh at try to get off as cheaply as they can ; and
hin. There is in addition, however, a the cheapest of all things they can give
deeper reason for this than would at first a literary man parılon the forlorn
appear. Do you know that you feel a pleasantry !—is the funny -bone. That is
little superior to every man who makes all verywell so far as it goes, but satis
you laugh, whether by making faces or fies no man , and makes a good many
verscs ? Are you aware that you have angry, as I told you on a former occa
a pleasant sense of patronizing him , when sion .
you condescend so far as to let him turn - Oh, indeed , no !-I am not asham
somersets, literal or literary, for your ed to make you laugh, occasionally. I
royal delight ? Now if a man can only think I could read you something I have
be allowed to stand ou a daïs, or raised in my desk that would probably make
platforın, and look down on his neighbor you smile. Perhaps I will read it one
who is exerting his talent for him , oh, it is of these days, if you are patient with me
all right !—first-rate performance !-and when I am sentimental and reflective ;
all the rest of the fine phrases. But if not just now. The ludicrous has its
all at once the performer asks the gentle- place in the universe ; it is not a human
man to come upon the floor, and, step- invention , but one of the Divine ideas,
ping upon the platform , begins to talk illustrated in the practical jokes of kit
down at him ,-ah, that wasn't in the tens and monkeys long before Aris
programme ! tophanes or Shakspeare. How curious
I have never forgotten what happen- it is that we always consider solemnity
ed when Sydney Smith - who, as every- and the absence of all gay surprises and
body knows, was an exceedingly sensible encounter of wits as essential to the idea
man, and a gentleman, every inch of him of the future life of those whom we thus
-ventured to preach a serinon on the deprive of half their faculties and then
Duties of Royalty. The “ Quarterly,” “ 80 call blessed ! There are not a few who,
savage and tartarly,” came down upon even in this life, seem to be preparing
him in the most contemptuous style, as themselves for that smileless cternity to
“ a joker of jokes,” a “ diner -out of the which they look forward , by banishing
first water," in one of his own phrases ; all gayety from their hearts and all joy
sneering at him , insulting him , as nothing ousness from their countenances. I meet
but a toady of a court, sneaking behind one such in the street not unfrequently,
the anonymous, would ever have been a person of intelligence and education,
mean enough to do to a man of his posi- but who gives me (and all that he passes)
tion and genius, or to any decent person such a rayless and chilling look of recog
even . - If I were giving advice to a nition ,-something as if he were one of
66
young fellow of talent, with two or three Ileaven's assessors, come down to “ doom ”
facets to his mind, I would tell him by all every acquaintance he met, —that I have
means to keep his wit in the background sometimes begun to sneeze on the spot,
until after he had made a reputation by and gone home with a violent cold, dat
his more solid qualities. And so to an ing from that instant. I don't doubt he
actor : Hamlet first, and Bob Logic after- would cut his kitten's tail off, if he caught
wards, if you like ; but don't think, as her playing with it. Please tell me, who
they say poor Liston used to, that people taught her to play with it ?
will be ready to allow that you can do No, no give me a chance to talk to
anything great with Afacbeth's dagger af- you, my fellow -boarders, and you need
ter flourishing about with Paul Pry's um- not be afraid that I shall have any scru
brella. Do you know, too, that the ma- ples about entertaining you, if I can do
jority of men look upon all who challenge it, as well as giving you sonic of my se
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 467

rious thoughts, and perhaps my sadder is one of our companions ;-her streamers
fancies. I know nothing in English or were torn into rags before she had got into
any other literature more admirable than the open sea, then by and by her sails
that sentiment of Sir Thomas Browne : blew out of the ropes one after another,
“ EVERY MAN TRULY LIVES, SO LONG the waves swept her deck, and as night
AS HE ACTS HIS NATURE, OR SOME came on we left her a seeming wreck,
WAY MAKES GOOD THE FACULTIES OF as we flew under our pyramid of canvas.
HIMSELF." But lo ! at dawn she is still in sight,-it
-I find the great thing in this world may be in advance of us. Some deep
is not so much where we stand, as in ocean -current has been moving her on,
what direction we are moving. To stroug , but silent,-yes, stronger than
reach the port of heaven , we must sail these noisy winds that puff our sails until
sometimes with the wind and soinetimes they are swollen as the cheeks of jubilant
against it, - but we must sail, and not cherubim . And when at last the black
drift, nor lie at anchor. There is one steam -tug with the skeleton arms, that
very sad thing in old friendships, to every comes out of the mist sooner or later
mind that is really moving onward . It and takes us all in tow, grapples her and
is this : that one cannot help using his goes off panting and groaning with her,
early friends as the seaman uses the log, it is to that harbor where all wrecks are
to mark his progress. Every now and refitted , and where, alas ! we, towering
then we throw an old schoolmate over in our pride, may never come.
the stern with a string of thought tied to So you will not think I mean to
him, and look – I am afraid with a kind speak lightly of old friendships, because
of luxurious and sanctimonious compas- we cannot help instituting comparisons
sion—to see the rate at which the string between our present and former selves
reels off, while he lies there bobbing up by the aid of those who were what we
and down, poor fellow ! and we are dash- were, but are not what we are. Noth
ing along with the white foam and bright ing strikes one more , in the race of life,
sparkle at our bows ;—the ruffled bosom than to see how many give out in the
of prosperity and progress , with a sprig first half of the course . “ Commence
of diamonds stuck in it ! But this is only ment day ” always reminds me of the
the sentimental side of the matter ; for start for the “ Derby ," when the beautiful
grow we must, if we outgrow all that we high -bred three- year olds of the season
love. are brought up for trial. That day is
Don't misunderstand that metaphor of the start, and life is the race. Here we
heaving the log, I beg yon . It is merely are at Cambridge, and a class is just
a smart way of saying that we cannot " graduating " Poor Harry ! he was to
avoid measuring our rate of movement have been there too, but he has paid
by those with whom we have long been forfeit ; step out here into the grass back
in the habit of comparing ourselves; and of the church ; ah ! there it is :-
-
when they once become stationary, we " HUNC LAPIDEM POSUERUNT
can get our reckoning from them with Socil MEREXTES. "
painful accuracy. We see just what we
were when they were our peers, and can But this is the start, and here they are ,
strike the balance between that and coats bright as silk, and manes as smooth
whatever we may feel ourselves to be as eau lustrale can make them . Some of
now. No doubt we may sometimes be the best of the colts are pranced round,
mistaken. If we change our last sim- a few minutes each, to show their paces.
ile to that very old and familiar one of What is that old gentleman crying about ?
a fleet leaving the harbor and sailing and the old lady by him , and the three
in company for some distant region, we girls, all covering their eyes for ? Oh,
can get what we want out of it. There that is their colt that has just been trottod
468 The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. [ February,
up on the stage. Do they really think jockeying or straining for victory ! Well,
those little thin legs can do anything in the world marks their places in its bet
such a slashing sweepstakes as is coming ting-book ; but be sure that these mat
off in these next forty years ? Oh, this ter very little, if they have run as well
terrible gift of second -sight that comes as they knew how !
to some of us when we begin to look -Did I not say to you a little while
through the silvered rings of the arcus ago that the universe swam in an ocean
senilis ! of similitudes and analogies ? I will not
Ten years gone. First turn in the race. quote Cowley, or Burns, or Wordsworth,
A few broken down ; two or three bolted . just now, to show you what thoughts
Several show in advance of the ruck . were suggested to them by the simplest
Cassock, a black colt, seems to be ahead natural objects, such as a flower or a
of the rest; those black colts commonly leaf ; but I will read you a few lines, if
get the start, I have noticed, of the oth- you do not object, suggested by looking
ers, in the first quarter. Meteor has at a section of one of those cbambered
pulled up shells to which is given the name of
Twenty years. Second corner turned . Pearly Nautilus. We need not trouble
Cassock has dropped from the front, and ourselves about the distinction between
Judex, an iron -gray, has the lead. But this and the Paper Nautilus, the Argo
look ! how they have thinned out ! nauta of the ancients. The name ap
Down flat, - five, - six, – how many ? plied to both shows that each has long
They lie still enough ! they will not get been compared to a ship, as you may see
up again in this race, be very sure ! more fully in Webster's Dictionary, or
And the rest of them , what a “ tailing the “ Encyclopedia ,” to which he refers.
off ” ! Anybody can see who is going to If you will look into Roget's Bridgewater
win , -perhaps. Treatise, you will find a figure of one of
Thirty years. Third corner turned. these shells, and a section of it. The
Dives, bright sortel, ridden by the fel- last will show you the series of enlarging
low in a yellow jacket, begins to make compartments successively dwelt in by
play fast ; is getting to be the favorite the animal that inhabits the shell, which
with many. But who is that other one is built in a widening spiral. Can you
that has been lengthening his stride from find no lesson in this ?
the first, and now shows close up to the
front ? Don't you remember the quiet
brown colt Asteroid, with the star in his THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS .
forehead ? That is he ; he is one of the
sort that lasts ; look out for him ! The This is the ship of pearl, which , poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main ,
black “ colt,” as we used to call him , is The venturous bark that flings
in the background, taking it easy in a On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
gentle trot. There is one they used to In gulſs enchanted , where the siren sings,
call the Filly, on account of a certain And coral reefs lie bare,
feminine air he bad ; well up, you see ; Where the cold sea -maids rise to sun their
streaming hair.
the Filly is not to be despised, my
boy ! Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Forty years. More dropping off, —but Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
places much as before. And every chambered cell ,
Fifty years. Race over . All that Where its dim dreaming life was wont to
dwell ,
are on the course are coming in at a
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
walk ; no more running. Who is ahead ? Before thee lies revealed, -
Ahead ? What ! and the winning -post a Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt un
slab of white or gray stone standing out sealed !
from that turf where there is no more
1858.] Béranger. 469

Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil ;
Still, as the spiral grew ,
He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway
through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew
the old no more.
Thanks for the heavenly message brought by
thee,
Child of the wandering sen ,
Cast from her lap, forlorn !
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wrenthèd horn !
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a
voice that sings :
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll !
Leave thy low - vaulted past !
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more
vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unrest
ing sea !

BÉRANGER

BÉRANGER is certainly the most popu- all pretext for disturbance; but it respond
lar poet there has ever been in France ; ed also to a public and popular sentiment
there was convincing proof of it at the At sight of the honors paid to this simple
time of and after his death . He had not poet, with as much distinction as if he
printed anything since 1833, the epoch had been a Marshal of France , -at sight
when he published the last collection of of that extraordinary military pomp, ( and
his poems ; when he died, then, on the in France military pomp is the great
16th of July, 1857, he had been silent sign of respectability, and has its place
twenty -four years. He had, it is true, whenever it is desired to bestow special
appeared for a moment in the National honor,) no one among the laboring popu
Assembly, after the Revolution of Febru- lation was surprised , and it seemed to
ary , 1848 ; but it was only to withdraw all that Béranger received only what was
again almost immediately and to resign his due.
his seat. In spite of this long silence And since that time there has been in
and this retirement, in which he seemed the French journals nothing but a suc
a little forgotten, no sooner did the news cession of hymns to the memory of Bé
of his last illness spread and it was ranger, hymns scarcely interrupted by
known that his life was in danger, than now and then some cooler and soberer
the interest, or we should rather say the judgments. People have vied with each
anxiety, of the public was awakened. other in making known his good deeds
In the ranks of the people, in the most done in secret, his gifts,-we will not call
humble classes of society, everybody be- them alms, --for when he gave, he did not
gan inquiring about him and asking day wish that it should have the character of
by day for news ; his house was besieged alms, but of a generous , brotherly help.
by visitors ; and as the danger increased , Numbers of his private letters have been
the crowd gathered, restless, as if listen- printed ; and one of his disciples has pub
ing for his last sigh. The government, in lished recollections of his conversations,
charging itself with his obsequies and de- under the title of Alémoires de Béranger.
claring that his funeral should be cele- The same disciple, once a simple artisan,
brated at the cost of the State, may have a shoemaker, we believe, M. Savinien
been taking a wise precaution to prevent Lapointe , has also composed Le petit
470 Béranger. [ February,
Évangile de la Jeunesse de Béranger. his Baptism , his Horoscope cast by a
M. de Lamartine, in one of the numbers Gypsy, and others,-have neither sparkle
of his Cours familier de Littérature, has nor splendor. The prophet is not intox
devoted two hundred pages to an ac icated, and wants enthusiasm . On the
count of Béranger and a cominentary on theme of Napoleon, Victor Hugo has
him, and has recalled curious conversa- done incomparably better; and as to the
tions which he bad with him in the most songs, properly so called, of this last col
critical political circumstances of the lection, there are at this moment in
Revolution of 1848. In short, there has France numerous song-writers ( Pierre
been a rivalry in developing and am- Dupont and Nadaud, for instance ) who
plifying the memory of the national have the ease, the spirit, and the bril
songster, treating him as Socrates was liancy of youth, and who would be able
once treated, bringing up all his apoph. easily to triumph over this forced and
thegms, reproducing the dialogues in difficult elevation of the Remains of
which he figured , -going even farther, Béranger, if one chose to institute a com
-carrying him to the very borders of parison. We may well say that youth
legend, and evidently preparing to can- is youth ; to write verses, and especially
onize in him one of the Saints in the songs, when one is old, is to wish still to
calendar of the future . dance, still to mount a curvetting horse;
What is there solid in all this ? How one gains no honor by the experiment.
much is legitimate, and how much exces- Anacreon , wc know, succeeded ; but in
sive ? Béranger himself seems to have French, with rhyme and refrain, ( that
wished to reduce things to their right pro- double butterfly -chase,) it seems to be
portions, having left behind him ready more difficult.
for publication two volumes : one being But in prose, in the Autobiography,
a collection of his last poems and songs; the entire Béranger, the Béranger of
the other an extended notice, detailing the best period, the man of wit, fresh
the decisive circumstances of his poctic ness, and sense , is found again ; and it
and political life, and entitled “My Biog- is pleasant to follow him in the story of
raphy ." his life, till now imperfectly known. He
The collection of his last songs, let us was born at Paris, on the 19th of Au
say it frankly, has not answered expecta- gust, 1780 ; and he glories in being a Pa
tion. In reading them, we feel that the risian by birth, saying, that “ Paris had
poet has grown old, that he is weary . not to wait for the great Revolution of
He complains continually that he has no 1789 to be the city of liberty and equal
longer any voice,—that the tree is dead, ity, the city where misfortune receives,
—that even the ccho of the woods an- perhaps, the most sympathy.” He came
swers only in prose , —that the source of into the world in the house of a tailor,
song is dried up ; and says, prettily, – his good old grandfather, in the Rue
" If Time still make the clock run on ,
Montorgueil, one of the noisiest of the
He makes it strike no longer." Parisian streets, famous for its restau
rants and the number of oysters con
And unhappily he is right. We find sumed in them. “ Seeing me born ,” 9

here and there pretty designs, short fe-
licitous passages, smiling bits of nature ;
but obscurity, stiffness of expression, and
the dragging in of Fancy by the hair
continually mar the reading and take
he says, “ in one of the dirtiest and noi
siest streets, who would have thought
that I should love the woods, fields, flow
ers, and birds so much ? ” It is true that
Béranger loved them, - but he loved
-

away all its charm . Even the pieces them always, as his poems show, like a
most highly lauded in advance, and which Parisian and child of the Rue Montor
celebrate some of the most inspiring mo- gueil. A pretty enclosure, as many flow
ments in the life of Napoleon , -such as ers and hedges as there are in the Close
1858. ] Béranger. 471

rie des Lilas, a little garden, a court- is, and afterwards sent to a school in the
yard surrounded by apple -trees, a path Faubourg Saint-Antoine, where, on the
winding beside wheat- fields,—these were 14th of July, 1789, he saw the Bastille
enough for him . His Muse, we feel, has taken, he pursued his primary studies
never journeyed, never soared, never very irregularly. He never learned
beheld its first horizon in the Alps, the Latin, a circumstance which always pre
ocean , or the illimitable prairie. Lamar- judiced him . Later in life, he some
tine, born in the country, amid all the times blushed at not knowing it, and yet
wealth of the old rural and patriarchal mentioned the fact so often as almost
life, had a right to oppose him, to put his to make one believe he was proud of it.
own first instincts as poet contrast The truth is, that this want of classical
66
with his, and to say to him , “ I was born training must have been felt more pain
among shepherds ; but you , you were fully by Béranger than it would have
born among citizens, among proletaries.” been by almost any other person ; for
Béranger loved the country as people Béranger was a studied poet, full of
love it on a Sunday at Paris, in walks combinations, of allusion and artifice,
just without the suburbs. How different even in his pleasantry ,—a delicate poet,
from Burns, that other poet of thepeo moreover, of the school of Boileau and
ple, with whom he has sometimes been Horace.
compared ! But, on the other hand, The pension in the Faubourg Saint
Béranger loved the dweller in the city, Antoine, even, was too much for the
the mechanic , the ouvrier, industrious, narrow means of his father. He was
intellectual, full of enthusiasm and also taken away and sent to Péronne, in Pi
of imprudence, passionate, with the heart cardy, to an aunt who kept an inn in one
a
of a soldier, and with free, adventurous of the suburbs, at the sign of the Royal
ideas. He loved him even in his faults, Sword . It was while he was with this
aided him in his poverty , consoled him excellent person , who had a mind supe
with his songs. Before all things he rior to her condition, that he began to
loved the street, and the street returnedform himself by the reading of good
his love. French authors. His intelligence was
His father was a careless, dissipated not less aroused by the spectacle of the
man , who liad tried many employments, events which were passing under his eyes.
and who strove to rise from the ranks of The Terror, the invasion by the armies
the people without having the means. of the Coalition, the roar of cannon,
His mother was a pretty woman, a dress- which could be heard at this frontier
inaker, and thorough grisette, whom his town, inspired him with a patriotism
father married for her beauty, and who which was always predominant in him ,
left her husband six months after their and which at all decisive crises revived
marriage and never gave a thought to so strongly as even to silence and eclipse
her child. The little Béranger, born for the moment other cherished senti
with difficulty and only with the aid of ments which were only less dear.
instruments, put out to nurse in the “ This love of country, ” said he, em
neighborhood of Auxerre, and forgotten phatically, “was the great, I should say
for three years, was the object of no the only, passion of my life. ” It was this
motherly cares. He may be said never love which was his best inspiration as
to have hail a mother. His Muse al- poet,-love of country, and with it of
ways showed traces of this privation of equality. Out of devotion to these great
a mother's smile . The sentiment of objects of his worship, he will even con
home, of family, is not merely absent sent that the statue of Liberty be some
from his poems, -it is sometimes shocked times veiled, when there is a necessity for
by them . it. That France should be great and
Returning to his grandparents in Par- glorious, that she should not cease to be
 472 Béranger. [ February,
democratic, and to advance toward a of the cross, holy-water, and the like.
democracy more and more equitable and One day the lightning struck near the
favorable to all,—such were the aspira- house and knocked down young Béran
tions and the programme of Béranger. ger, who was standing on the door-step.
He goes so far as to say that in his He was insensible for some time, and
childhood he had an aversion, almost a they thought him killed. His first words,
hatred, for Voltaire, on account of the on recovering consciousness, were, “Well,
insult to patriotism in his famous poem what good did your holy -water do ?”
of Lu Pucelle ; and that afterwards, even At Péronne he finished his very irregu
while acknowledging all his admirable lar course of study at a kind of primary
qualities and the services he rendered to school founded by a philanthropic citi
the cause of humanity, he could acquire zen. During the Directory, attempts
only a very faint taste for his writings. were made all over France to get up free
This is a striking singularity, if Béranger institutions for the young, on plans more
does not exaggerate it a little ; it is al- or less reasonable or absurd, by men
most an ingratitude ,—for Voltaire is one who had fed upon Rousseau's Émile
of his nearest and most direct masters . and invented variations upon his system.
There is, indeed, a third passion which On leaving school, Béranger was placed
disputes with those for country and equals with a printer in the city, where he be
ity the heart of Béranger, and which he came a journeyman printer and composi
shares fully with Voltaire,-- the hatred, tor, which has occasioneu his being often
namely, we will not say of Christianity, compared to Franklin ,-a comparison of
but of religious hypocrisy, of Jesuitic which he is not unworthy, in his love for
Tartufery. What Voltaire did in innu- the progress of the human race, and the
merable pamphlets, facelice, and philo piquant and ingenious turn he knew how
sophic diatribes, Béranger did in songs. to give to good sense. From this first
He gave a refrain, and with it popular employment as printer Béranger ac
currency to the anti-clerical attacks and quired and retained great nicety in lan
mockeries of Voltaire ; he set them to guage and grammar. He insisted on it,
his violin and made them sing with the in his counsels to the young, more than
horsehair of his bow . Béranger was in seems natural in a poet of the people.
this respect only the minstrel of Voltaire. He even exaggerated its importance
Bold songs against hypocrites, the somewhat, and might seem a purist.
Reverend Fathers and the Tartufes, so Béranger's fạther reappeared suddenly
much in favor under the Restoration, during the Directory and reclaimed his
and some which carry the attack yet son , whom he carried to Paris. The
higher, and which sparkle with the very father had formed connections in Brit
spirit of buffoonery, like Le Bâtard du tany with the royalists. Ile had become
Pape ; beautiful patriotic songs, like Le steward of the household of the Count
vieux Drapeau ; and beautiful songs of css of Bourmont, mother of the famous
humanity and equality, like Le vieux Bourmont who was afterwards Marshal
Vagabond ;—these are the three chief of France and Minister of War. Bour
branches which unite and intertwine to mont himself, then young, was living in
make the poetic crown of Béranger in Paris, in order the better to conspire for
his best days, and they had their root in the restoration of the Bourbons. The
passions which with him were profound elder Béranger was neck -deep in these
and living, -hatred of superstition, love intrigues, and was even prosecuted after
of country, love of humanity and equals the discovery of one of the numerous
ity. conspiracies of the day, but acquitted for
His aunt at Péronne was superstitious, want of proof. He was the banker and
and during thunder- storms had recourse money -broker of the party , —a wretched
to all kinds of expedients, such as signs banker enough ! The narrative of the
1858. ] Béranger. 473
son enables us to see what a miserable Cellar, all of whose members were song
business the father was engaged in. writers and good fellows, presided over
This near view of political intriguers, of by Désaugiers, the lord of misrule and
royalists driven to all manner of expe- of jolly minstrels. Béranger, after his
dients and standing at bay, of adven- admission to the Caveau, at first con
turers who did not shrink from the use tended with Désaugiers in his own style,
of any means, not even the infernal-ma but already a ground of seriousness and
chine, did not dispose the young man thought showed through his gayety. He
already imbued with republican senti- wrote at this time his celebrated song of
ments to change them, and this initiation the Roi d'Yvetot, in which, while he cari
into the secrets of the party was not catured the little play-king, the king in
likely to inspire him with much respect the cotton nightcap, he seemed to be
for the future Restoration. He had too slyly satirizing
f
the great conquering Em
early seen men and things behind the peror himsel .
scenes . His father, in consequence of The Empire fell, and Béranger hesi
his swindling transactions, made a bank- tated for some time to take part against
ruptcy, which reduced the son to poverty the Bourbons. It was not till after the
and filled him with grief and shame. battle of Waterloo and the return of
He was now twenty years old ; he had Louis XVIII. under convoy of the allied
courage and hope, and he already wrote armies, that he began to feel the passion
verses on all sorts of subjects ,—serious, of patriotism blaze up anew within him
religious, epic, and tragic. One day, and dictate stinging songs which soon
when he was in especial distress, he made became darts of steel. Meanwhile he
up a little packet of his best verses and wrote pretty songs, in which a slight sen
sent them to Lucien Bonaparte, with a timent of melancholy mingled with and
letter, in which he set forth his unhappy heightened the intoxication of wine and
situation . Lucien loved literature, and pleasure. La bonne Vieille is his chef
piqued himself on being author and d'auvre in this style. He arranged the
poet. He was pleased with the attempts design of these little pieces carefully,
of the young man, and made him a sketching his subjects beforehand, and
present of the salary of a thousand or herein belongs to the French school, that
twelve hundred francs to which he was old classic school which left nothing to
entitled as member of the Institute. It chance. He composed his couplets slow
was Béranger's first step out of the pov- ly, even those which seem the most easy .
erty in which he had been plunged for Commonly the song came to him through
several years, and he was indebted for the refrain ;-he caught the butterfly by
the benefit to a Bonaparte, and to the the wings ;—when he had seized the re
most republican Bonaparte of the fam- frain , he finished at intervals, and put in
ily. He was always especially grateful the nicer shadings at leisure . He wrote
for it to Lucien , and somewhat to the hardly ten songs a year at the time of his
Bonapartes in general. greatest fecundity. It has since been re
Receiving a small appointment in the marked that they smell of the lamp here
bureau of the University through the in- and there ; but at first no one had eyes
tervention of the Academician Arnault, except for the rose, the vine, and the
a friend of Lucien Bonaparte, Béranger laurel.
lived gayly during the last six years of The Bourbons, brought back for the
the Empire. He managed to escape second time in 1815 , committed all man
the conscription, and never shouldered ner of blunders : they insulted the re
a musket. He reserved himself to sing mains of the old grande armée; they shot
of military glory at a later day, but had Marshal Ney and many others ; a hor
no desire to share in it as soldier. He rible royalist reaction cnsanguined the
was elected into a singing club called The South of France . The Jesuit party in
474 Béranger . [ February,
sinuated itself at Court, and assumed to so fiercely as to push them to extremes.
govern as in the high times of the con- However this might have been, poetry
fessors of Louis XIV. It was hoped to is always more at home in excess than in
conquer the spirit of the Revolution, and , moderation. Béranger was all the more
to drive modern France back to the a poet at this period, that he was more
days before 1789 ; hence thousands of impassioned. The Bourbons and the
bateful things impossible to be realized, Jesuits, his two most violent antipathies,
and thousands of ridiculous ones. To- served him well, and made him write his
wards 1820 the liberal opposition organ- best and most spirited songs. Hence his
ized itself in the Chambers and in the great success . The people, who never
press. The Muse of Béranger came to perceive nice shades of opinion, but love
its assistance under the mask of gay rail- and hate absolutely, at once adopted Bé .
lery. Ile was the angry bee that stung ranger as the singer of its loves and
flying, and whose stings are not harm- hatreds, the avenger of the old army , of
less; nay, he would fain bave made them national glory and freedom , and the in
mortal to the enemy. Ile hated even augurator or prophet of the future. The
Louis XVIII., a king who was esteemed spirit prisoned in these little couplets,
tolerably wise, and more intelligent than these tiny bodies, is of amazing force,
his party: “ I stick my pins,” said Béran- and has, one might almost say, a devilish
ger, “ into the calves of Louis XVIII.” audacity. In larger compositions, breath
One must have seen the fat king in would doubtless have failed the poet,
small-clothes, his legs as big as posts and the greater space would have been an
round as pin -cushions, to appreciate all injury to him. Even in songs he has a
the point of the epigram . constrained air sometimes, but this con
Béranger had been very intimate since straint gave him more force . He pro
1815 with the Deputy Manuel, a man duces the impression of superiority to his
of sense and courage, but very hostile class.
to the Bourbons, and who, for words Béranger had given up his little post at
spoken from the Tribune, was expelled the University before declaring open war
from the Chamber of Deputies and de- against the government. Ile was before
clared incapable of reëlection . Though long indicted, and in 1822 condemned to
intimate with many influential members several months' imprisonment, for hav
of the opposition, such as Laffitte the ing scandalized the throne and the altar.
banker, and General Sebastiani, it was His popularity became at once bound
only with Manuel that Béranger perfect- less ; he was sensible of it, and enjoyed it.
ly agreed. It is by his side, in the same “ They are going to indict your songs,”
tomb, that he now reposes in Père la said some one to him. “ So much the
Chaise, and after the death of Manuel better ! ” he replied , — " that will gilt-edge
he always slept on the mattress upon them.” He thought so well of this gilding,
which his friend had breathed his last.that in 1828, during the ministry of M
Manue! and Béranger were ultra-inimi- Martignac, a very moderate man and of
cal to the Restoration . They believed a conciliatory semi-liberalism , he found
that it was irreconcilable with the mod- means to get indicted again and to un
ern spirit of France, with the common dergo a new condemnation, by attacks
sense of the new forin of society, and which some even of his friends then
they accordingly did their best to goad thought untimely. Once again Béranger
and irritate it, never giving it any quar- was impassioned ; he declared his ene
ter. At certain times, other opposition mies incurable and incorrigible ; and
deputies, such as General Foy, would soon came the ordinances of July, 1830,
have advised a more prudent course, and the Revolution in their train , to
which would not have rendered the prove him right.
Bourbons impossible by attacking them In 1830, at the moment when the
1858.] Béranger. 475

Revolution took place, the popularity of of friends, and much sought after. In leav
Béranger was at its height. His opinion ing Paris during the first years of Louis
was much deferred to in the course taken Philippe's reign, and closing, as he called
during and after “ the three great days.” • it, his consulting office, his chief aim was
The intimate friend of most of the chiefs to escape the questions, solicitations, and
of the opposition who were now in pow- confidences of opposite parties, in all of
er, of great influence with the young, which he continued to have many friends
and trusted by the people, it was essen- who would gladly have brought him over
tial that he should not oppose the plan to their way of thinking. He did not
of making the Duke of Orleans King. wish to be any longer what he had been
Béranger, in his Biography, speaks mod- so much ,-a consulting politician ; but he
estly of his part in these movements. did not cease to be a practical philoso
In his conversations he attributed a great pher with a crowd of disciples, and a con
deal to himself. He loved to describe sulting democrat. Chateaubriand, La
himself in the midst of the people who mennais, Lamartine,-the chiefs of par
surrounded the Hôtel of M. Laffitte, go ties at first totally opposed to his own ,
ing and coming, listening to each, con- came to seek his friendship, and loved to
sulted by all, and continually sent for by repose and refresh themselves in his con
Laffitte, who was confined to his arm- versation. He enjoyed , a little mischiev
chair by a swollen foot. Seeing the ously, seeing one of them ( Chateau
hesitation prolonged , he whispered in briand) lay aside his royalism , another
Laffitte's ear that it was time to decide, (Lamennais) abjure his Catholicism, and
for, if they did not take the Duke of Or- the third (Lamartine ) forget his former
leans for King pretty soon, the Revolu- aristocracy, in visiting him. He looked
tion was in danger of turning out an upon this, and justly, as a homage paid
émeute. He gave this advice simply as to the manners and spirit of the age, of
a patriot, for he was not of the Orleans which he was the humble but inflcxible
party. When he came out, his younger representative.
friends, the republicans, reproached him ; When the Revolution of 1848 burst
but he replied, “ It is not a king I want, unexpectedly, he was not charmed with
but only a plank to get over the stream .” it,—nay, it made him even a little sad.
He set the first example of disrespect for Less a republican than a patriot, he
the plank he thought so useful; indeed, saw immense danger for France, as he
thc coinparison itself is rather a con- knew her, in the establishment of the
temptuous one. pure republican form . He was of opin
He afterwards behaved, however, with ion that it was necessary to wear out the
great sense and wisdom . He declined all monarchy little by little,—that with time
offices and honors, considering his part as and patience it would fall of itself ; but
political songster at an end. In 1833 he he had to do with an impatient people,
published a collection in which were re- and he lamented it. “ We had a lad
marked some songs of a higher order, less der to go down by,” said he, “ and here
partisan, and in which he foreshadowed we are jumping out of the window !” It
a broader and more peaceful democracy. was the same sentiment of patriotism,
After this he was silent, and as he was mingled with a certain almost mystical
continually visited and consulted , he re- enthusiasm for the great personality of
solved upon leaving Paris for some years, Napoleon, nourished and augmented with
in order to escape this annoyance. He growing years, which made him accept
went first to the neighborhood of Tours, the events of 1851-2 and the new Em
and then to Fontainebleau ; but the free, pire.
conversational life of Paris was too dear to The religion of Béranger, which was
him , and he returned to live in seclusion, so anti-Catholic, and which seems even to
though always much visited by his troops have dispensed with Christianity, reduced
476 Béranger. [ February,
itself to a vague Deism , which in prin- without wounding the fibre of manhood
ciple had too much the air of a pleas- in them . He loved everything that
antry. His Dieu des bonnes gens, which wore a blouse. He had, even stronger
he opposed to the God of the congrega- than the love of liberty, the love of
tion and the preachers, could not be equality, the great passion of the French
taken seriously by any one. Neverthe- He spent the last years of his life with
less, the poet, as he grew older, grew an old friend of his youth by the name
more and more attached to this symbol of Madame Judith. This worthy per
of a Deity, indulgent before all else, but son died a few months before him, and
very real and living, and in whom the be accompanied her remains to the
poor and the suffering could put their church. He was seventy -seven years
trust. What passed in the days preced- old when he died .
ing his death has been much discussed, Estimating and comparing chiefly lit
and many stories are told about it. He erary and potic merits, some persons in
received, in fact, some visits from the cu- France have been astonished that the
rate of the parish of Saint Elizabeth, in obsequies of Béranger should have been
which he lived. This curate had for- so magnificently celebrated, while, but
merly officiated at Passy, a little village a few months before, the coffin of an
near Paris, where Béranger had resided, other poet, M. Alfred de Musset, had
-and was already acquainted with the been followed by a mere handful of
poet. The conversations at these visits, mourners ; yet M. de Musset was capa
according to the testimony of those best ble of tones and flights which in inspi
informed , amounted to very little ; and ration and ardor surpassed the habitual
the last time the curate came, just as he range of Béranger. Without attempting
was going out, Béranger, already dying, here to institute a comparison, there is
said to him , " Your profession gives you one thing essential to be remarked : in
the right to bless mc ; I also bless you ;– Béranger there was not only a poet, but
pray for me, and for all the unfortunate ! ” a man , and the man in him was more
The priest and the old man exchanged considerable than the poet,—the reverse
blessings, —the benedictions of two honest of what is the case with so many oth
men, and nothing more. crs. People went to see him, after hav
Béranger had one rare quality, and it ing heard his songs sung , to tell him how
was fundamental with him , obligingness, much they had been applauded and
readiness to perform kind offices, human- enjoyed, — and, after the first compli
ity carried to the extent of Charity. He ments, found that the poet was a man
loved to busy himself for others. To of sense, a good talker on all subjects,
some one who said that time lay heavy interested in politics, a wonderful rea
on his hands, he answered , “ Then you soner, with great knowledge of men,
have never occupied yourself about other and characterizing them delicately with
people ?” “ Take more thought of others a few fine and happy touches. They
than of yourself” was his maxim . And became sincerely attached to him ; they
be did so occupy himself, —not out of cu- came again, and delighted to draw out in
riosity, but to aid, to succor with advice talk that wisdom armed with epigram ,
and with deeds. His time belonged to that experience full of agreeable coun
everybody,-to the humblest, the poorest, sels. His passions had been the talent of
the first stranger who addressed him and the poet; his good sense gave authority
told him his sorrows. Out of a very to the man . Even by those least will
small income (at most, four or five thou- ing to accept popular idols, Béranger
sand francs a year) he found means to will always be ranked as one of the sub
give much. He loved, above all, to assist tilest wits of the French school, and as
poor artisans, men of the people, who ap- something more than this,-as one of the
pealed to him ; and he did it always acutest servants of free human thought.
1858.] A Tiffin of Paragraphs. 477

A TIFFIN OF PARAGRAPHS.

How runs the Hindoo saw ? “ Are of ardent spirits on the table, to weave
we not to milk when there is a cow ? " a circle round him thrice .' So ! that's
When India is giving down generous for British Ascendency !
streams of paragraphy to all the greedy “ Now drop your subjugated brother
buckets of the press, shall we not hold into the midst thereof. Sce how , in his
our pretty pail under ? As our genial senseless, drunken rage, he wriggles and
young friend , Ensign Isnob, of the “ Sap- squirms, - then desperately dashes, and
66
pies and Minors,” would say', _ “ Ibelieve venomously snaps! That's Indian Re
you , me boy ! ” volt !
66
Then coine with us to Cossitollah, and Quickly , now ! light the train ; so !
we'll have a tiſfin of talk ; some cloves -What think you of Anglo- Saxon pow ..
of adventure, with a capsicum or two of er and hereditary pride ?
tragic story, shall stand for the curry ; “ Oho, my Kitmudgar ! you begin to
the customs of the country may repre- understand !—the living fable is not lost
sent the familiar rice ; a whiff of fresh- on you !
ness and fragrance from the Mofussil will ** But watch your Great Mogul! Bar
be as the mangoes and the dorians ; in rackpore, Meerut, Cawnpore, Lucknow ,
the piquancy and grotesqueness of the Delhi, -five imposing plunges, but impo
first pure Orientalism that may come tent ; for at every point the Sahib's fatal
to hand we shall recognize the curious fire, fire, fire, fire, fire !—insurmountable,
chow -chow of the chutney ; and as for all-subduing 6destiny ' !
the beer,—why, we will be the beer our- “66 Maimed, discomfited, dismayed, shiv
selves. cring, at wits' end, a crippled wriggler,
in the midst of the exulting flames ,
“ Kitmudgar, remove that scorpion there lies your Great Mogul !
from the punka, before it drops into the “ But see the scorpion, brave wretch !
Sahib's plate. -— Hold , miscreant! who with a gladiator's fortitude, loosens the
told you to kill it ? shameful coil in which its last agonics
have twisted it, fiercely erects its head
« • Take it up tenderly, once more, lashes defiantly with its tail,
Lift it with care, -
Fashioned so slenderly, and then - click ! click ! click !-stings it
Young, and so fair ! ' self to death
“ And with that ends our figure of
“ For know, O Kitmudgar, that there specch ; for only the pitifulness of the
is one beauty of women , and another defeat is the Great Mogul's ; the sublim
beauty of scorpions; and if the beauty ity of suicide is proper to the scorpion
of scorpions be to thee as the ugliness of alone.
women , the fault is in thy godless eye. “ Take away the fable, Kitmudgar ! ”
“ Only a crawling kafir ,' sayest thou, O
heathen ! and straightway goest about to I lay in bed this morning half an hour
stick aa fork into a political symbol ? Ver- after the sun had risen, watching my
ily , the hapless wretch shall be sacrificed Parsce neighbor on his house-top, and
unto Agnee, god of Fire, that a timely thereby lost my drive on the Esplanade.
warning may enter into thy purblind But I console myself with imagining
soul ! that the pretty Chee -chee spinster who
“ Here, take this bottle of brandy,- comes every morning from Rancemoo
• Sahib brandy,' you perceive,-genuine dy Gully in a green tonjon, and makes
old • London Dock ,' — and pour a cordon romantic eyes at me through the silk
478 A Tiffin of Paragraphs. [ February,
curtains, missed the Boston gentleman hold on the pinnacle of his purpose ;
with the gray moustache, and was lone- then
some . * Like a thunderbolt he falls. "

My Parsee neighbor is quite as fat, Sitting solemnly on the breast of the

but by no means as saucy, as ever. Last dead boy, the “grim, ungainly, gaunt, and
"
week his youngest boy died,—little Kirsa- ominous bird ” peers with sidelong glance
jee Samsajee Bonnarjec, a contemplative into his face, gloating ; and then
young fire -worshipper, with eyes as pro- Immediately my Parsee neighbor up
found as the philosophy of Zoroaster. I rises in his place, throws aside his veil,
saw the dismal procession depart from and, shouting, runs forward. The Pon
the house, and my heart ached for the dicherry eagle soars screaming to the
little Gheber. clouds, and the sorrow -stricken Gheber
Four awful creatures, that were like bends over the dear corpse. Is it Heaven
ghosts, clad all in white, solemnly dumb or Hell ? the right eye or the left ? Alas,
and veiled, bore him away on an iron the left !
bier. When they arrived at the draw- He beats his breast, he falls upon his
bridge, great sheets of copper were spread knees, and cries with frantic gestures to
before them , and they crossed upon those ; the setting Sun ; but the sullen god only
for wood is sacred to their adored Ele- draws a cloud before his face, and leaves
ment, and the touch of “them on whose his poor worshipper to despair. Then
shoulders the dead doth ride ” would pol- my Parsee neighbor arises and girds up
lute it. his loins, muffles his haggard face more
So they carried little Kirsajee to Gol- closely than before, and with dishevelled
gotha, their Place of Skulls, which is a beard , and chin sadly sunk upon his
dreary, treeless field, encompassed round breast, turning neither to the right hand
about with a blank wall ; and they laid nor to the left, and mecting no man's
him naked in a stone trough on the edge gaze, wends silently homeward.
of a great pit, and left him there, betak- To -morrow he will take his wife and
ing them, still solemnly veiled and mute, go to Bombay, to feed with consecrated
o their homes again. sandal-wood and oil the Sacred Flame
All but my Parsee neighbor; he went the Magi brought from Persia, when they
and sat him down, like Hagar in the were driven thence with all their people
wilderness, over against the dead Kirsa- to Ormuz. But the name of little Kir
jee, “ a good way off, as it were a bow- sajee will cross their lips no more ; his
shot” ; and he lifted up his voice, and memory is a forbidden thing in the house
wept for the lad that was dead . But hold ; he is as if he never had been .
still he waited there, till the crows and When Brahminee kite, and adjutant,
the Brahminee kites should come to per- and white -breasted crow have done their
form the last horrid rites ; for to Parsce ghoulish office on little Kirsajee, liis
custom the sepulture most becoming to bones shall lie bleaching under the piti
men and most acceptable to God is in less eye of his people's blazing god, till
the stomachs of the fowls of the air, in the rains come, and fill the pit, and carry
the craws of ghoulish vultures and sacrile- the waste of Gheber skeletons by subter
gious crows. raneous sewers down to the sea . But
And presently there came a great Pon- the Pondicherry eagle took the left eye
dicherry eagle, sniffing the feast from first ; wherefore the most pious deeds
afar; and he came alone. Swiftly sailing, of merit, to be performed by my Parsee
poised on silent wings, he circled over neighbor,—even a hospital for maimed
Golgotha, circle within circle, circle below dogs, or feeding the Sacred Flame with
circle, over the child sleeping naked, over great store of sandal-wood and precious
the father watching veiled. gums, or tilling the earth with a dili
One moment he flutters, as for a foot- gence equivalent to the efficacy of tor
1858. ] A Tiffin of Paragraphs. 479

thousand prayers, can hardly suffice to and socially a guest. At Ahmedabad,

save the soul of little Kirsajec, the For- the capital of Guzerat, there are certain
bidden ! ly two - Mr. De Ward says three - hos
pitals for sick and lame monkeys, who
There is a blood - feud of three months' are therein provided with salaried pby
standing between two members of our sicians, apothecaries, and nurses.
bouscholu . In the famous Hindoo cpic, the “ Ra
One day, Lootee, the chuprassey's mayana ” of Valmiki, — " by singing and
cat, took Tchoop, the khansamal's mon- hearing which continually a man may
key, unawares, as he was sunning him- attain to the highest state of enjoyment,
self on the house-top, and with scratching and be shortly admitted to fraternity
and spitting, sudden and furious, so star- with the gods," — the exploits of Hoona
tled him , that he threw himself over the munta, the Divine Monkey, are gravely
parapet into the crowded Cossitollah, and related, with a dramatic force and figu
would have been killed by the fall, had rativeness that hold a street audience
he not chanced to alight on the volumi- spell-bound ; but to the European imag
nous turban of a dandy hurkaru from ination the childish drollery of the plot
the Mint. As it was, one of his arms is irresistible.
sustained a compound fracture, and his Boodhir, the Earth, was beset by
nerves suffered so frightful a shock, that giants, demons, and chimeras dire ; so
it was only by a miracle of surgery, and she besought Vishnu, with many tears,
the most patient nursing, that he was and vows of peculiar adoration, to put
ever restored to his wonted agility and forth his strength of arms and arts against
sagacity. her abominable tormentors, and rout them
But the day of retribution has arrived ; utterly. The god was gracious ; whence
Lootee has had kittens. There were his nine avatars, or incarnations -as fish,
five of them in the original litter ; but as tortoise, as boar, as man -lion, as dwarf
only one remains. Tchoop tossed two Brahmin, as Pursuram ,—the Brahmin
of them from the house -top when no warrior who overthrew the Kshatriya, or
dandy hurkaru from the Mint was below soldier-caste ; the eighth avatar appeared
to soften the fall; the old adjutant-bird, in the person of Krishna, and the ninth
that for three years has stood on one leg in that of Boodh.
on the Parsee's godown, gobbled up an- But the seventh incarnation was the
other as it lay choked in the south ve- avatar of Rama, and it is this that the
66
randa ; while the dismayed sirdar found Ramayana " celebrates.
the head of aa fourth jammed inextricably Vishnu proceeds to be born unto Doo
in the neck of his sacred lotah, wherewith surath , King of Ayolhya, (Oude,) as the
he performs his pious ablutions every Prince Rama, or Ramchundra. Noth
morning at the ghaut. ing remarkable occurs thereupon until
On the other hand, Lootee has made Rama has attained the marriageable age,
prize of about three inches of Tchoop's when he espouses Secta, daughter of the
tail, and displays it all over the house King of Mithili.
for a trophy . — It is a blood -feud, fierce Immediately old Mrs. Mithili, our
and implacable as any between Afghans, hero's mother- in -law , being of an intrigu
and there's no knowing where it will all ing turn of mind, applies herself to the
end. amiable task of worrying the poor old
In Europe the monkey is a cynic, in King of Ayodhya out of his crown or his
South America an overworked slave, in life ; and so well does she succeed, that
Africa a citizen , but in India an imp, Doosurath, for the sake of peace and
-I mean to the eye of the Western quietness, would fain abdicate in favor of
stranger, for in the estimation of the his son .
native he is mythologically a demigod, But Rama will have none of his royal
480 A Tiffin of Paragraphs. [ February ,
ty. Was it for bored kings and mis- with Sceta in the devout dirtiness of
chief-making mothers-in -law, he asks, their jolly yogeery :
speaking with the ante -natal memories The god has gone abroad in scarch of
of Vishnu, that he came among the sons a dinner, and is over the hills to the
of men ? Not at all ! he has a unission , sandy nullahs, where the white ants are
and he bides his tine. For the present fattest ; while that greasy Joan, Seeta,
he will take his wife Seeta , whose will is “ dotlı keel the pot ” at home.
his, and go out into the wilderness , there Then Rawunna , the giant, assuming
to build him a hut of bamboos and ban- the shape of a pilgriın yogee rolling to
ian -boughs and palmyra -leaves, and be- the Caves of Ellora ,—with Gayntree ,
Seeta and he-two jolly yogees, that is, the mystical text, on his lips, and the
religious gypsies, -living on grass- roots, shadow of Siva's beard in his soul, -rolls
wild rice, and white ants, and being dirty to Rama's door, and cries , “ Alnis , alms,
and devout to their heart's content. in the name of the Destroyer ! ”
So they went ; and for a little while And Seeta comes forth, with water in
they enjoyed , undisturbed , their yogee- a palm -leaf and grass-roots in the fold of
ish ideas of a good time. But by -and- her sarec ; and when she beholds the false
by tidings came to Rawunna — the giant yogee her heart blooms with pity, so that
with ten heads and twice ten arns, that her smile is as the alighting of butterflies,
was King of Lunka (Ceylon ) of the and her voice as the rustling of roses.
plots of Mrs. Mithili, the disgust of old But, behold you, as she bends over the
Doosurath, the distraction of the king- prostrate yogee, and, saying, “ Drink
dom of Ayodhya, and the whimsical ad- from the cup of Vishnu ! ” offers the
venture of Rama and Seeta . crisp leaf to his dusty lips, a great spasm
And immediately Rawunna, the giant, of desire impels the impostor; and, fling
is seized in all his heads and arms with ing off the yogee, he leaps erect, Ra
a great longing to know what manner of wunna, the Abhorred !
man this Rama may be, that he should With ten mouths he kisses ber ; with
prefer the yogee's ,breech -cloth to the twenty arms he clasps her ; and away,
royal purple, a hut of leaves, with only away to Lunka ! while yet poor Secta
his Secta , to a harem of a hundred gasps with fear.
wives, white ants and paddy to the white When Rama returned and found no
camel's flesh and golden partridges of Sceta, his soul was seized with a mighty
Ayodhya's imperial repasts. Especially horror ; and a blankness, like unto the
is he curious as to the charms of Seeta, mystery of Brahm , fell upon his heart
as to the mighty magic wherewithal she He shed not a tear, but the sky wept
renders monogamy acceptable to an floods; he uttered not a groan, but Earth
Ayodhyan prince. shook from her centre , and the moun
By Indra ! he will see for himself ! tains fell on their faces. But Rama,
So, pleading exhaustion from the cares stupefied, stood stock still where he was
of state, and ten headaches of trouble stricken, and stared, till his eyelids stif
and dyspepsia, he announces his inten- fened, at the desolate but, at the desolate
tion to make an excursion a few bun- hearth .
dred coss into the country for the bene- Then all the angels in heaven, who
fit of his health ; and taking twenty car- had witnessed the crime of Rawunna, and
pet-bags in his hands, he sets out, in his his flight, passed into the forms of mon
monstrous way, for Ayodhya, leaving his keys; and aa million of them made a mon.
kingdom in the care of a blue dwarf key chain, that the rest of the celestial
with an eye in the back of his neck. host might descend into the banian -groves
With seven -coss strides he comes to of Ayodhya. The tails glide swiftly
Ayodhya, and straightway finds the ban- through each glowing hand, and quick
ian hut in the forest, where Rama dwells as lightning on the trees they stand.
1858.] A Tiffin of Paragraphs. 481

And Hoonamunta, their chief, pros- among the places of the oppressed and
trated himself before Rama, and said, the places of the powerful.
“ Behold , my Lord, we are here ! I and And he bit the ears of the Pariah dogs,
all my host are yours,-command us ! ” so that they howled ; he twisted the tails
But Rama spoke not ; he only stood of the Brahmin bulls, so that they rushed ,
where he was stricken, and stared at his bellowing, down to the ghauts ; he pluck
desolation . ed the beards of gorged adjutants, till
Then Hoonamunta turned him to his they snapped their great beaks with a
host, and said, “ Bide here till I come, terrible clatter.
and be silent ; break not the quiet of He made a great splashing in the tanks;
divine sorrow . ” And he went forth with he ran through the bazaars, banging the
mighty bounds. gongs of the bell-makers, and smashing
That night he came to Lunka. But the brittle wares of the potters ; he tore
the city slept ; if Seeta yet lived, she, holes in the roofs of houses, and threw
too , was silent; no cry of sorrow rose on down tiles upon them that were buried
the night; no stir, as of an unusual event in slumber ; he cried with a loud voice,
disturbed the stillness and the gloom . “ Siva, Siva, the Destroyer, cometh ! ”
So Hoonamunta took upon himself the So that the city awoke with a great
form of a rat, and sped nimbly through outcry and a din, with all its torches and
the huts of dwarfs and the towers of all its dogs. And the multitude filled the
giants, through the hiding-places of mis- streets, and the compounds, and the open
ery and the high seats of power, through places round about the tanks; and all
the places of trouble and the places of cried, “ Siva, Siva ! ”
ease ; till at last he came to an ivory But when they beheld Hoonamunta ,
dome, hard by the silver palace of Ra- how he tore off roofs, and pelted them
wunna , the Monstrous ; and there lay with tiles,-how he climbed to the tops of
Secta, buried in a profound trance of de- pagodas, and jangled the sacred bells,
spair. how he laid his shoulder to the city walls
Hoonamunta bit, very tenderly, her and overthrew them, so that the noise of
slender white finger ; but she stirred not, their fall was as the roar of the breakers
she made no sign. on the far -off coast of Lunka when the
Then he whispered softly in her ear, Typhoon blows, —then they cried , “ A
“ Rama comes ! ” and Secta started from demon ! a ficnd from the halls of Yama! "
her death-sleep, and sat erect; her eyes and they gave chase with a mighty up
were open, and she cried, “ My Lord , I roar,—the gooroos, and the yogecs, and
am here ! ” the jugglers going first.
So Hoonamunta spake to her, bidding Then Hoonamunta took counsel with
her be of good cheer, for Brahim was with his cunning; and he came down and
her, and the Omnipotent Three,-bade stoorl in the midst of the angry people,
ber be of good heart and wait. And See- and asked , “ What would you with me ?
ta's smile was as the alighting of many and where is this demon you pursue ? ”
butterflies, and her voice of murmured But they cried, “ Hear him, how he
joy was as the rustling of all the roses mocks us ! Hear him, how he flouts us ! ”
of Ayodhya and they dragged him into the presence
Then Hoonamunta took counsel with of Rawunna, the king.
his cunning ; and he said unto himself, And when the giant would have ques
“ I will arouse the sleepers ; I will take tioned him, who he was, and whence he
the strength of the city ; I will count the came, and what his mission, he only
heads of Rawunna, and the arms of him .” mocked, and mimicked the fee -faw -fum
So straightway he resumed his monkey ness of Rawunna’s tones, and said, “ Lo!
shape, and went forth into the streets, this beggar goes a -foot, but his words ride
by the tanks and through the bazaars, in a palanquin ! ”
VOL. I. 31
482 A Tiffin of Paragraphs. [ February,
And the king said, “ I have been rice- fields, through the porticoes of pal
foolish , I have been weak, to waste words aces and the porches oi pagodas ,-kind
on this kafir. Am not I a mighty mon- ling a roaring conflagration as he went.
arch ? Am not I aa terrible giant ? Let And all the people pursued him ,
him be cast out ! ” screaming with fear, imploring mercy,
And again Hoonamunta mocked him , imploring pardon, crying, “Spare us,
saying, “ His insanity is past ! fetch him and we will make you our high-priest !
the rice-pounder that he may gird hin- Spare us, and you shall be our king ! "
self! fetch him the gong that he may But Hoonamunta staid not, till, having
cover his feet ! ” laid half the city in flames, he ascended
And Hoonamunta would have sat on to the top of a lofty tower to survey his
the throne, on Rawunna's right hand ; work with satisfaction.
but Rawunna thrust him off, and cursed Thither the great men of Lunka fol
him . lowed him ,—the princes, and the Brah
So Hoonamunta took his tail in his mins, and the victorious chieftains, the
hand, and pulled and pulled ; and the strong giants, and the cunning dwarfs.
tail grew, and grew , -a fathom , a fur- And when they were all gathered un
long, a whole coss. derneath the tower, and in the porch of
And Hoonamunta coiled it on the it, he shook it, till it fell and crushed a
floor, a lotty coil, on the right hand of thousand of the first citizens.
the throne, higher and higher, till it Then Hoonamunta sped away north
overlooked the golden cushion of the ward to Ayodhya, extinguishing his tail
king ; and Iloonamunta laughed . in the sea as he went.
Then Rawunna turned him to his And when he came to where his army
counsellors, and said, “ What shall we lay, he found them all waiting in silence.
do with this audacious fellow ? ” When he entered the hut of Rama, the
And with one voice all the counsellors bereaved one still lay on his face. But
cried , “Burn his tremendous tail !” Hoonamunta spake softly in his ear :
And the king commanded : “ My Lord , arise ! for Seeta calls you,
“ Let all the dwarfs of Lunka and her heart sickens within her that
Bring rags from near and far ; you come not ! "
Call all the dwarfs of Lunka Immediately Rama uprosc, and stood
To soak them all in tar ! "
erect, and all the god blazed in his eyes ;
So they went, and brought as many and he grew in the sight of Hoonamunta
rags as ten strong giants could lift, and a until his stature was as the stature of
thousand maunds of tar. Rawunna, the giant, and his countenance
And they soaked the rags in the tar, was as the countenance of Indra, King
even as Rawunna had commanded, and of Heaven .
bound them all at once on the tremen- And he went forth, and stood at the
dous tail of Hoonamunta . head of Hoonamunta's monkey host, and
And when they had done this, the called for a sword ; and when they gave
king said, “ Lead him forth , and light him one, it became alive in his hand, and
him !” was a sword of Aame ; and when they
And they led him forth into the great gave him a spear, lo ! it became his slave,
Midaun, hard by the triple pagoda ; and flying whithersoever he bade it, and strik
they lighted his tail with a torch. And ing where he listed.
immediately the flames leaped to the So Rama and Hoonamunta, with all
skies, and the smoke filled all the city. their monkey host, took up their march
Then Hoonamunta broke away from for Lunka.
his captors, and with a loud laugh started When they came to the sea (which is
on his fiery race,-over house -tops and the Gulf of Manaar) there was no bridge ;
hay-ricks, through close bazaars and dry but Rama mounted the back of Hoona
1858.] The Relief of Lucknow . 483

munta , and called to the host to follow
him ; and all the monkeys leaped across .
Then immediately they fell upon Lun-
ka ; and Rama slew awunna, the Mon-
ster, and rescued the delighted Seeta.
And now those three sit together on
a throne in heaven,-Seeta, the faithful
wife, on the left hand of Rama,-and
Hoonamunta on his right hand, the
shrewd and courageous friend.
Who would not be a monkey in Hin
dostan ?

THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW .

Oh, that last day in Lucknow fort !

We knew that it was the last,
That the enemy's lines crept surely on,
And the end was coming fast.
To yield to that foe was worse than death ,
And the men and we all worked on ;
It was one day more of smoke and roar,
And then it would all be done.

There was one of us, a corporal's wife,

A fair, young, gentle thing,
Wasted with fever in the siege,
And her mind was wandering.
She lay on the ground, in her Scottish plaid ,
And I took her head on my knee :
“ When my father comes hame frae the pleugh,” she said,
“ Oh ! then please wauken me.”
She slept like aa child on her father's floor
In the flecking of woodbine-shade,
When the house-dog sprawls by the open door,
And the mother's wheel is staid.

It was smoke and roar and powder-stench,

And hopeless waiting for death ;
And the soldier's wife, like a full-tired child,
Seemed scarce to draw her breath .

I sank to sleep ; and I had my dream

Of an English village-lane,
And wall and garden ;-but one wild scream
Brought me back to the roar again.
There Jessie Brown stood listening
Till a sudden gladness broke
All over her face, and she caught my hand
And drew me near, as she spoke :
484 The Relief of Lucknow . [ February,
“The Hielanders ! Oh ! dinna ye hear
The slogan far awa ?
The McGregor's ? Oh ! I ken it weel ;
It's the grandest o' them a' !
“God bless thae bonny Hielanders !
We're saved ! we're saved ! ” she cried ;
And fell on her knees ; and thanks to God
Flowed forth like a full flood -tide.

Along the battery -line her cry

Had fallen among the men,
And they started back ;-they were there to die ;
But was life so near them , then ?
They listened for life ; the rattling fire
Far off, and the far -off roar ,
Were all ; and the colonel shook his head ,
And they turned to their guns once more .
ButJessie said, “ The slogan's done ;
But winna ye hear it noo ,
The Campbells are comin ' ? It's no a dream ;
Our succors hae broken through ! ”
We heard the roar and the rattle afar,
But the pipes we could not bear ;
So the men plied their work of hopeless war,
And knew that the end was near.

It was not long ere it made its way,

A shrilling, ceaseless sound :
It was no noise from the strife afar,
Or the sappers under ground .
It was the pipes of the Highlanders !
And now they played Auld Lang Syne ;
It came to our men like the voice of God,
And they shouted along the line.
And they wept and shook one another's hands,
And the women sobbed in a crowd ;
And every one knelt down where he stood,
And we all thanked God aloud.

That happy time, when we welcomed them ,

Our men put Jessie first;
And the general gave her his hand, and cheers
Like a storm from the soldiers burst.

And the pipers' ribbons and tartans streamed ,

Marching round and round our line ;
And our joyful cheers were broken with tears
As the pipes played Auld Lang Syne.
1858.] New England Ministers. 485

NEW ENGLAND MINISTERS.

DR. SPRAGUE, of Albany, has added were not afraid to rest their claim to in
to the literature of our country two large Auence and deference on the manfulness
octavo volumes, containing biographical with which they should strive to deserve
accounts of the Congregational clergy of them .
New England, from its earliest settlement Dr. Sprague's book contains pictures
until the year 1841. The book has been of life under both the old régime and
for the most part compiled from letters the new. The following extract from
furnished by different individuals, who, the venerable Josiah Quincy's recollec
either through personal knowledge or tions of the Rev. Mr. French, of Ando
through tradition , had the most intimate ver, is interesting, as an illustration of
acquaintance with the subjects of which the olden times.
they wrote . “ Mrs. Dowse, my maternal aunt, has often
The characters here sketched , though relatedtome her pride and delight atvisiting
perfectly individual, are in so great a at the Rev. Mr. Phillips' , her paternal grand
degree the result of peculiar political father's house, when a child ; which was in
influences, that it would be difficult to teresting as a statement of the manners of
suppose their existence elsewhere than those early times in Massachusetts, before
the sceptre of worldly power, which the first
in New England. We have therefore settlers of the Colony had placed in the hands
chosen this book as a kind of stand of the clergy, had been broken . The period
point from which to take a glance at was about between 1760 and the Revolution.
the New England clergy and pulpit. The parsonage at Andover was situated about
The earliest constitution of govern two or three hundred rods from the meeting
ment in New England was a theocracy ; house, which was three stories high, of im
mense dimensions, far greater, I should think ,
it was the realization of Arnold's idea than those of any meeting -houses in these
of the identity of Church and State. anti-church -going, degenerate times . It was
Under it the clergy bad peculiar powers on a hill, slightly elevated above the parson
and privileges, which, it is but fair to age, so that all the flock could see the pas
tor as he issued from it .
say, they turned to the advantage of the
“ Before the time of service,
congregation
Commonwealth more than has generally gradually assembled in carly season, coming
been the case with any privileged order. on foot or on horseback , the ladies behind
A time, however, came when the their lords or brothers or one another, on pil.
democratic element, which these men lions, so that before the time of service the
themselves had fostered, worked out its whole space before the meeting -house was
filled with a waiting, respectful, and expect
logical results, by depriving them of all ing multitude. At the moment of service the
special immunities, and leaving them, pastor issued from his mansion with Bible
like any other citizens, to make their and manuscript sermon under his arm , with
way by pure force of character, and to his wife leaning on one arm , flanked by his
bc rated, like other men, simply for what negro man on his side, as his wife was by her
they were and what they could do. negro woman , the little negroes being distrib
uted according to their sex by the side of
It is creditable to the intelligence and their respective parents. Then followed ev
shrewdness of this body of men that the ery other member of the family according to
more far-sighted among them received age and rank, making often, with family visit
this change with satisfaction ; that they ants, somewhat of a formidable procession .
were such uncommonly fair logicians as As soon as it appeared, the congregation, as
to be willing to accept the direct infer- if moved by one spirit, began to move to
wards the door of the church ; and before the
ence from principles which they had procession reached it, all were in their places.
been foremost to inculcate, and, like men “ As soon as the pastor entered the church ,
of strong mind and clear conscience, the whole congregation rose and stood until
 486 New England Ministers. [ February,
the pastor was in the pulpit and his family Hallock, that he educated in his own
seated , -until which was done the wholo as family, during his ministerial lifetime,
sembly continued standing. At the close of
the service the congregation stood until he three hundred young people, of whom
and his family had left the church, before any thirty were females. One hundred and
one moved towards the door. thirty-two of these he fitted for college ;
“ Forenoon and afternoon the same course fifty became ministers, and six foreign
of procceding was had , expressive of the rev- missionaries.
erential relation in which the people acknowl Some of the clergy gained such an ac
edged that they stood towards their clergy- quaintance with the practice of medicine
man .

“ Such was the account given me by Mrs. as to be able sometimes to unite the offi
Dowse in relation to times previous to iny ces of physician of the body and of the
birth, and which I relatc as her narrative, and soul ; and not unfrequently a general
not as part of my recollections. The proces- knowledge of law enabled the pastor to
sion from the parsonage, the disappearance be the worldly as well as the spiritual
of the people on the appearance of the proces .
sion, and that their pastor was received with counsellor of his people. A striking case
every mark of decorum and respect, I well in point is that of the venerable Parson
remember, but of their rising at his entrance Eaton , who resided in a lonely scafar
and standing after the service until he bad ing district on tlic coast of Maine, and
departed, I have no recollection ; my time was preached to a congregation who lived
almost twenty years after that narrated by
Mrs. Dowse. During that period the Revolu men the amphibious life of farmers and fisher
. The town of Harpswell, where
tion had commenced."
he ministered ,
Some might think it an advantage,
if more of the decorum and reverence “ is a narrow projection of ten miles south
of such a state of society had been pre ward into Casco Bay, on both sides of which
itseveral
comprises within its incorporated limits
served to our day ; for this respect paid islands,some of them of considerable
to the minister was but part of a gen- size and well inhibited . In his pastoral
eral and all-pervading system . Children visits and Jabors, the clergyman was oftev
were more reverential to their parents, obliged to riile several miles, and then cross
scholars to their teachers, the people to the inlets of the sea , to preach a lecture or to
minister comfort or aid to some sick or suffer
their magistrates. A want of reverence ing parishioner. In addition to his clerical
threatens now to become the besetting duties,Mr. Eaton, having experience and dis
sin of America, whether young or old. cernment in the more common forms of dis
The clergy of New England have, as ease, was generally applied to in sickness;
a bodly, been distinguished for a rare and he usually carried with him a lancet and
union of the speculative and the practi the more common and simple medicines. If
a case was likely to bafile his skill, he advised
cal. In both points they have been so his patient to send for a regular physician .
remarkable, that in observing the great His admirable sense, morcover , and his cdn
development of either of these qualities cation fitted him to render aid and counsel in
by itself one would naturally suppose matters of controversy ; so that he often acted
that there was no room for the other. as an umpire, and very often to the settling
Generally speaking, they were rural of disputes. Seldom did his people consult a
lawyer ; and it is even said , that, at the time
pastors,- living on salaries so small as to of his death , most of the wills in the town
afford hardly aa nominal support; and in were in his handwriting."
order to bring up their families and give
their sons a college education, it was ne- It is a singular thing, that the preach
cessary to understand fully the practical ing and the bent of mind of a set of men
savoir faire. Accordingly, they farmed so intensely practical should have been
and gardened, and often took young at the same time intensely speculative.
people into their families to educate, and Nowhere in the world , unless perhaps in
in these ways eked out a subsistence. Scotland, have merely speculative ques
It is related of the venerable Moses tions excited the strong and engrossing
1858.] New England Ministers. 487

interest among the common people that ly trained, keen, thoughtful New England
they have in New England. Every
Every fariner, and see which is best fitted to
man , woman , and child was more or less adıinister a government.
a theologian. The minister, while hic Another leading characteristic of the
ground his scythe or sharpened his axe New England clergy was their great free
or laid stone-fence, was inwardly grind- dom of original development. The vol
ing and hammering on those problems of umes before us are full of indications of
existence which are as old as man, and the most racy individuality. There was
which Christian and heathen have alike no such thing as a clerical mould or pat
pondered. The Germans call the whole tern ; but each minister, particularly in
New England theology rationalistic, in the rural districts, grew and flourished as
distinction from traditional. freely and unconventionally as the apple
There are minds which are capable trees in his own orchard, and was con
of receiving certain series of theological sidered nonc the worse for that, so long
propositions without even an effort at as he bore good fruit of the right sort.
comparison , without a perception of Thus we find among them all stamps and
contradiction or inconsequency,—without kinds of men,-men of decorum and cer
an effort at harmonizing. Such, how- emony, like Dr. Emmons and President
ever, were not the New England min. Edwards, and men who, aiming after the
isters. With them predestination must real, despised the forun, kept no order.
be maile to harinonize with freewill; and revered no ceremony ; yet all flour
the Divine entire efficiency with human ished in peace, and were allowed to do
freedom ; the existence of sin with the their work in their own way.
Divine benevolence ; - and at it they
- We find here and there records of
went with stout hearts, as men work pleasant little encounters of humor among
who are not in the habit of being balked them on these points. Parson Deanc, of
in their undertakings. Hence the Ed- Portland, was a precise man, and always
wardses, the Hopkinses, the Emmonses, appeared in the clerical regalia of the
with all their various schools and follow- times, with powdered wig, cocked bat,
ers, who, leviathan -like, have made the gown, bands. Parson Hemmenway went
theological deep of New England to boil about with just such clothes as he hap
like a pot, and the agitation of whose pened to find convenient, without the
course remains to this day. least regard to the conventional order.
It is a mark of aa shallow mind to scorn Being together on a council, Dr. Deane
these theological wrestlings and surgings; playfully remarked ,-
they have had in them something even “ The ferryman, Brother Hemmen
sublime. They were always bounded way, as we came over, hadn't the least
and steadied by the most profound rever- idea you were a clergyman . Now I am
ence for God and his word ; and they particular always to appear with my
have constituted in New England the wig on."
strong mental discipline needed by a Precisely,” said Dr. Hemmenway ; " I
people who were an absolute democracy. know it is well to bestow more abundant
The Sabbath teaching of New England honor on the part that lacketh .”
has been a regular intellectual drill as It is a curious illustration of the times
well as a devotional exercise ; and if one and people to see how quietly the per
does not see the advantage of this, let sonal eccentricities of a gooil minister
him live awhile in France or Italy, and were received .
see the reason why, with all their aspira- One Mr. Moorly, who flourished in the
State of Maine, was one of those born
tions after liberty, there is no capability
of self-government in the masses ; put oddities whosc growth of mind rejects
the tiller of the Campagna, or the vine- every outward rule. Brilliant, original,
dresser of France, beside the theological restless, he found it impossible to bring
 488 New England Ministers. [ February,
his thoughts to march in the regular pla- any outward change of dress. At last
toon and file of a properly written ser- he settled the question to his own satis
mon . It is told of him , that, inoved by the faction, by substituting for his white wig
admiration of his people for the calm and a black silk pocket-handkerchief, with
orderly performances of one of his neigh- which head -dress he officiated in all sim
boring brethren of the name of Emerson , plicity during the usual term of mourn
be resolved to write a sermon in the same ing.
style. After the usual intraluctory ser- We think it one result of their great
vires, le began to read his performance, freedom from any strait-laced convention
but soon grew weary , stumbled disconso al ideas, that no point of "haracter is
lately, and at last stopped, exclaiming - more frequently noticed in the subjects
“ Eruerson must be Emerson, and Moody of these sketches than wit and humor.
must be loody! I feel as if I had my New England ministers never held it a
heal in aa bag ! You call Moody a ram- sin to laugh ; if they did, some of them
bling preacher; —it is true enough ; but had a great deal to answer for; for they
his preaching will do to catch rambling could scarce open their mouths without
sinners, and you are all runaways fron dropping some provocation to a smile.
the Lord .” An ecclesiastical meeting was always a
His clerical brethren at a meeting of merry season ; for there never were want
the Assoriation once undertook to call ing quaint images, humorous anecdotes,
him to account for his odd expressions and sharp flashes of wit, and even the
and back-handed strokes. He stepped driest and most metaphysical points of
into his study and produced a record of doctrine were often lit up and illumina
soine twenty or thirty cases of conver- ted by these corruscations.
sions which had resulted from some of A panel taken out of the house of
his exceptional sayings. As he read the Rev. John Lowell, of Newbury, is
them over with the dates, they looked at still preserved, representing the common
cach other with surprise, and one of style of an ecclesiastical meeting in those
them very sensibly remarked, “ If the days. The divines, each in full wig and
Lord owns Father Moody's oddities, we gown, are seated around a table, smoking
must let him take his own way.” their pipes, and above is thic well-known
His son , Joseph Moody, furnished the inscription : In necessariis, Unitas : in
original incident which Hawthorne has non necessaris, Libertas : in utrisque
so excquisitely worked up in his story of Charitas.
“ The Minister's Black Veil.” Being of In that delightfully naïve and simple
a singularly nervous and melancholic journal of the Rev. Thomas Smith, the
temperament, he actually for many years first niinister settled in Portland , Maine,
shrouderd his face with a black handker- in the year 1725, we find the following
chief. When reading a sermon he would entries.
lift this, but stooil with his back to the * July 4 , 1763. Mr. Brooks was or
audience so that his face was concealed, dained . A multitude of people from
-all which appears to have been accept- my parish. A decent solemnity.”
ed by his people with sacred simplicity. January 16, 1765. Mr. Foxcroft
66

He was known in the neighborhood by was ordained at New Gloucester. We

the name of Handkerchief Moody. had a pleasant journey home. Mr. L.
It is recorded also of the venerable was alert and kept us all merry . A jolly
and eccentric Father Mills, of Torring- ordination . We lost sight of decorum .”
ford , that, on the death of his much be . This Mr. L., by the by, who was so
loved wife, he was greatly exercised as alert on this occasion, it appears by a
to how a minister who always dressed note, was Stephen Longfellow, the great
in black could sufficiently express his grandfather of the poet. Those who en
devotion and respect for the departed by joy the poet's acquaintance will probably
1858.] New England Ministers. 489

testify that the property of social alert- you bait it carefully and throw it in
ness has not evaporated from the family as gently as possible, and then you sit
in the lapse of so manyyears. and wait and humor your fish till you
It is recorded of Dr. Griffin , that, can get him ashore. Now you get a
when President of the Andover Theo great cod-book and rope- line, and thrash 6
logical Seminary, he convened the stu- it into the water, and bawl out, • Bite or
dents at his room one evening, and told be damned ! ' ”
them he had observed that they were The Doctor himself gained such a
all growing thin and dyspeptical from reputation as an expert spiritual fisher
a neglect of the exercise of Christian man, that some of his parishioners, like
laughter, and he insisted upon it that experienced old trout, played shy of his
they should go through a company-drill hook , though never so skilfully baited.
in it then and there. The Doctor was “Why, Mr. A. ,” he said to an old
an immense man , over six feet in
-
farmer in his neighborhood , “ they tell
height, with great amplitude of chest me you are an Atheist. Don't you be
and most magisterial manners . “Here,” lieve in the being of a God ? ”
said he to the first, “ you must practise ; “ No !” said the man .
now hear me ! ” and bursting out into a “ But, Mr. A., let's look into this. You
sonorous laugh, he fairly obliged his believe that the world around us exists
pupils, one by one, to join, till the from some cause ? ”
whole were almost convulsed . 66 That “No, I don't ! ”
will do for once, ” said the Doctor, “and Well, then, at any rate, you believe
now mind you keep in practice ! " in your own existence ? "
New England used to be full of tra- “No, I don't ! ”
ditions of the odd sayings of Dr. Bella- “ What ! not believe that you exist
my, one of the most powerful theologians yourself ? ”
and preachers of his time. His humor, “ I tell you what, Doctor," said the
however, seenis to have been wholly a so- man , “ I a’n't going to be twitched up
cial quality, requiring to be struck out by any of your syllogisms, and so I tell
by the collision of conversation ; for noth- you I don't believe anything,--and I'm
ing of the peculiar quaintness and wit not going to believe anything ! ”
ascribed to him appears in his writings, A collection of the table -talk of the
which are in singularly simple, clear Eng. clergy whose lives are sketched in Dr.
lish. Onc or two of his sayings cir. Sprague's volumes would be a rare fund
culated about us in our childhood . For of hunior, shrewdness, genius, and orig.
example, when one had built a fire of inality. We must say, however, that as
green wood, he exclaimed , “ Warm me nothing is so difficult as to collect these
here ! I'd as soon try to warm me by sparkling emanations of conversation ,the
star-light on the north side of a tomb- written record which this work presents
stone ! " Speaking of the chapel-bell of falls far below that traditional one which
Yale College, he said, " It was about as floated about us in our earlier years. So
good a bell as a fur cap with a sheep's much in wit and humor depends on the
tail in it." clectric flash, the relation of the idea to
A young minister, who had made him- the attendant circumstances, that people
self conspicuous for a severe and denun- often remember only how they have
ciatory style of preaching, came to him laughed, and can no more reproduce the
one day to inquire why he did not expression than they can daguerreotype
have more success. “ Why, man ,” said the heat-lightning of a July night.
the Doctor, “ can't you take a lesson The doctrine that a minister is to
of the fisherman ? How do you go to maintain some ethereal, unearthly sta
work , if you want to catch a trout ? tion, where, wrapt in divine contempla
You . get a little hook and a fine line, tion, he is to regard with indifference the
490 New England Ministers. [ February ,
actual struggles and realities of life, is manded us to pray for our enemies, we
a sickly species of sentimentalism , the pray for the President of these United
growth of modern refinement, and alto States, that his heart may be turned to
gether too moonshiny to have been com- just counsels,” etc.
prehended by our stout-hearted and very This same Parson Eaton distinguished
practical fathers. With all their excel- himself also for his patriotic enthusiasm in
lences, they had nothing sentimental Revolutionary times. When the British
about them ; they were bent on redu- had burned Falmouth , (Portland ,) a mes
cing all things to practical, manageable senger came to Harpswell to beat up for
realities. They would not hear of church- recruits to the Continental forces. Not
es, but called them meeting-houses ; they succeeding to his mind, he went to Par
would not be called clergymen , but min- son Eaton, one Sunday morning, and
isters or servants ,—thereby signifying begged him to say something for him
their calling to real, tangible work among in the course of the day's services.
real men and things. " It is my sacramental Sabbath ,” said
As we have already said, in the begin- the valiant Doctor, “ and I cannot. But
nings of New England, the Church and at the going down of the sun I will speak
State were identical, and the clergy ex to my people." And accordingly, that
officio the main counsellors and directors very evening, Bible in hand, on the green
of the Commonwealth ; and when this before the meeting-house, Dr. Eaton
especial prerogative was relinquished, addressed the people, denouncing the
they naturally retained something of the curse of Meroz on those who came not
bent it had given them . up to the belp of the country, and re
An interesting portion of these sketch- cruits flowed in abundantly.
es comprises the lives of ministers during The pastors of New England were
our Revolutionary struggle, showing how always in their sphere moral reformers.
ardently and manfully at that time the Profitable and popular sins, though coun
clergy headed the people. Many of tenanced by long-established custom , were
them went into the army as chaplains; fearlessly attacked. No sight could be
one or two, more zealous still , even took more impressive than that of Dr. Hop
up temporal arms; while the greater kins—who with all his power of mind was
number showered the enemy with ser- never a popular preacher, and who know
mons, tracts, and pamphlets. he was not popular - rising up in New
Some of the more zealous politicians port pulpits to testify against the slave
among them did not scruple to bring trade, then as reputable and profitable a
their sentiments even into the prayers sin as slave-holding is now. He knew
of the church . We recollect an anec- that Newport was the stronghold of the
dote of a stout Whig minister of New practice, and that the probable conse
Haren, who, during the occupation of quence of his faithfulness would be the
the town by the British , was ordered loss of his pulpit and of his temporal sup
to offer public prayers for the King, port; but none the less plainly and faith
which he did as follows : “ O Lord, bless fully did he testify. Fond as he was of
thy servant, King George, and grant doctrinal subtilties, keen as was his analy
unto him wisdom ; for thou knowest, O sis of disinterested benevolence, he did
Lord, he needs it. " not, like some in our day, confine himself
So afterwards, in the time of the Em- to analyzing virtue in the abstract, but
bargo, Parson Eaton, of Harpswell, a took upon himself the duty of practising
Federalist, is recorded to have introduced it in the concrete without fear of conse
his prayer for the President in a formula quences,—well knowing that there is no
which might be recommended at the logic like that of consistent action.
present day for the use of the people of We should do injustice to our subject,
Kansas. “ Forasmuch as thou hast com- if we did not add aa testimony to the pe
1858. ] New Englund Ministers. 491

culiarly religious character and influence their lips God -ward as it was sparingly
of the men of whom we speak. Shrewd, uttered man -ward .
practical, capable, as they were, in the No picture of the “ good parson » that
affairs of this life, perfectly natural and was ever drawn could exceed in beauty
human as were their characters, still that of the Rev. Jeremiah Hallock, whose
they were in the best sense unworldly life and manners had that indescribable
men . Religion was the deep underlying beauty, completeness, and sacredness,
stratum on which their whole life was which religion sometimes gives when
built. Like the granite framework of shining out through a peculiarly conge
the earth, it sunk below all and rose nial natural temperament, -yet we must
above all else in their life. No Acta confess we are as much interested and
Sanctorum contain more pathetic pic- impressed with its effects in those wilder
tures of simple and all-absorbing goulli- and more erratic temperaments, such as
ness than were displayed by the subjects Bellamy, Backus, and Moody, where ge
of these sketches. However they may nius and passion were so combined as to
have differed among themselves as to lead to many inconsistencies. This book
the metaphysical adjustment of the Cal- is a record of how manfully many such
vinistic system, all agreed in so present- men battled with themselves, repairing
ing it as to make God all in all. the faults of their hasty and passionate
Doctor Arnold says, it is necessary for hours by the true and honest humility of
the highest development of the soul that their better ones, so that, as one has said
it should have somewhere an object of of our Pilgrim Fathers, we feel that they
entire reverence enthroned above all may have been endeared to God even
possibility of doubt or criticism . Now by their faults.
a radically democratic system , like that The pastoral labors of these ministers
of New England, at once sweeps all were abounding. Two and sometimes
factitious reliances of this kind from the three services on the Sabbath, and a
soul. No crown, no court, no nobility, weekly lecture, were only the beginning
no ritual, no hierarchy, — the beauti- of their labors. Multitudes of them held
ful principles of reverence and loyalty circuit meetings, to the number of two or
might have died out of the American three a weck , in the outskirts of their
heart, had not these men by their re- parishes ; besides which they labored con
ligious teachings upborne it as on eagles' versationally from house to house with
wings to the footstool of the King Eter- individuals.
nal, Inunortal, Invisible. Hence we sec Gradual, indefinite , insensible amelio
why what was commonly called among ration of character was not by any
them the “ Doctrine of Divine Sover- means the only or the highest aim of
eignty ” acquired so prominent a place their preaching. They sought to make
in their preaching and their hearts. They religion as definite and as real to men as
were men of deep reverence and pro- their daily affairs, and to bring them , as
found loyalty of nature, from whom every respects their spiritual history , to crises
lower object for the repose of these as marked and decided as those to which
qualities had been torn away ,—who con- men are brought in temporal matters .
centrated on God alone those sentiments They must become Christians now, to
of faith and fealty which in other lands day ; the change must be immediate, all
are divided with Church and King . pervading , thorough.
Hence , more than that of any other cler- Such a style of preaching, from men
gy , their preaching contemplated God of such power, could not be without cor
as King and Ruler. Submission to bim responding results, especially as it was
without condition , without liinit, they based always upon strong logical appeals
both preached and practised. Uncon- to the understanding. From it resulted ,
ditional submission was as constantly on from me to time, periods which are
492 The Kansas Usurpation . [ February,
marked in these narratives as revivals of system shaped and adapted to what he
religion ,-seasons in which the cumula- perceived to be the real wants and weak
tive force of the instructions and power nesses of the soul. Hence arose modifi
of the pastor, recognized by that gracious cations of theology, - often interfering
assistance on which he always depended, with received theory, just as a judicious
reached a point of outward development physician's clinical practice varies from
that affected the whole social atmosphere, the book . Many of the theological dis
and brought him into intimate and con- putes which have agitated New England
fidential knowledge of the spiritual strug- have arisen in the honest effort to recon
gles of his flock. The preaching of the cile accepted forms of faith with the
pastor was then attuned and modified to observed phenomena and real needs of
these disclosures, and his metaphysical the soul in its struggles heavenward.

A BRIEF REVIEW OF THE KANSAS USURPATION.

If it had been the avowed intention and flagrantly to their nefarious object.
of the dominant party in this country to They have been reckless, defiant, aggres
disgust the people by a long and sys- sive ; but, unfortunately for them , they
tematic course of wrong-iloing, --if it had have not been sagacious. The thin dis
wished to prove that it was indissolubly guise of principle under which they mask
wedded to injustice, inconsistency, and ed their designs at the outset — as it were
error, it could not have chosen a better a bit of oiled paper - was soon torn away;
method of doing so than it has actually the plot betrayed its inherent wickedness
pursued, in the entire management of from step to step ; the instruments se
the Kansas question. From the begin- lected to execute it have one after an
ning to the end, that has been both a other abandoned the task, as quite im
blunder and a crime. Nothing more practicable for any honest mortal; and
atrocious, - nothing more perverse, now these whilom advocates of “ Popular
nothing more foolish, as a matter of Sovereignty ” stand exposed to the scorn
policy, — and we might add, but for and derision of the country, as nothing
the seriousness of the subject, nothing less than what their opponents all along
more ludicrous, — has occurred in our declared them to be ,—the sworn cham
history, than the attempt, which has pions of Slavery -Extension. All the
now been persisted in for several years, movements and changes of their exter
to force the evils of Slavery upon a nal policy find their explication in the
people who cannot and will not endure single phrase, the actual and the politi
them. cal advancement of the interests of Sla
We say, to force the evils of slavery very.
upon an unwilling people,-because such It is humiliating to an American citi
has been and is the only end of this pro zen to cast his eyes back, even for a
tracted endeavor. The authors of the moment, to the history of this Kansas
scheme bave scarcely shown the ordinary plot,-humiliating in many ways ; but
cunning of rogues, which conceals its ul- in none more so than in the revelation it
terior purposes. Disdaining the advice makes of the depth and extent of party
of Mrs. Peachum to her daughter Polly, servility in the Northern mind. Through
>

to be “ somewhat nice ” in her deviations out the proceedings of the “ Democracy ”

from virtue, they have advanced bravely towards the unhappy settlers of Kansas,
1858.] The Kansas Usurpation. 493

it is difficult to place the finger on a sin- this as it may, whatever the theoretic ori
gle act of large, just, or generous policy ; gin of the right to acquire territory ,
every step in it appears to have develop- whatever the origin of the right to gov
ed some new outrage or some new fraud ; ern it,—whether the former be derived
and yet, every step in it has also elicited from the war-making power, which im
new shouts of approval from the echoing plies conquest, or from the treaty -mak
licges and bondmen of “ the Party .” We ing power, which implies purchase,-and
should willingly, therefore, turn away whether the latter be derived froin an
from the theme , but that we believe the express grant or is involved as necessary
end is not yet come ; a review of its past to the execution of other grants, both
may instruct us as to its future. For it questions were definitively settled by long
is not always true, as Coleridge says, that and universally accepted practice. Under
experience, like the stern-lights of a ship, the actual legislation of Congress, run
illuminates only the track it has left; Ding over a period of sixty years, -a
the lights may be hung upon the bows, legislation sanctioned by all administra
tions, by all departments of the govern
and the spectator be enabled to discern , ment,
by means of them , no less, the way in by all the authorities of the indi
which it is going. vidual States, by all statesmen of all
A “ Territory,” viewed in connection parties, and by frequent popular rec
with the political system of the United ognitions, — prescription has taken the
States, must be confessed to be a some- force of law, and that which might once
what erratic and embarrassing member. be theoretically doubtful became forever
Few or no specific provisions are made practically valid and legitimate.
for it in the Organic Law, which ap- It was not till within the last few years
plies primarily, and quite exclusively, to that the right of Congress over the Ter
“States.” The word is mentioned there ritories was questioned. Certain classes
but once, — in the clause empowering of politicians then discovered that the
Congress to “ make all needful rules and whole of our past statesmanship had been
regulations respecting the territory or a mistake, and that the time had come to
other property belonging to the United propound a new doctrine. No ! they
States,” — and here it occurs in a some- said, it is not Congress, not the Federal
what doubtful sense . Judging by the Government, which is entitled to govern
mere letter or obvious import of the the Territories, but the Territories them
Constitution, the right of acquiring and selves,—which means the handful of their
governing territory would seem to be original occupants. The real sovereignty
a casus omissus, or a power overlook- resides in the squatters, and Squatter
ed. Accordingly, Mr. Webster went Sovereignty is the charm which dispels
so far as to assert that the framers of all difficulties. Alas ! it was rather like
it never contemplated its extension be- the ingredients mingled by Macbeth's
yond the original limits of the coun- hags, only “ a charm of powerful trou
try ; * but this we can scarcely believe ble.” Overlooking the fact that the Terri
of men so far-seeing and sagacious. It tories were Territories precisely because
were a better opinion, which Mr. Ben- they were not States, this absurd theory
ton has recently urged, that the ac- proposed to confer the highest character
quisition and control of territories are of an organized political existence upon
necessary incidents of the sovereign and a society wholly inchoate. As land, the
proprietary character of the government Territories were the property of the
created by the Constitution.t But be United States, to be disposed of and reg
* Works, Vol. V. p. 306.
ulated by the will of Congress ; as col
† See his late pamphlet on the Dred Scott lections of men , they were yet immature
decision, which we may say, without adopting communities, having in reality no social
its conclusions, every statesman ought to read. being, and in that light also wisely and
494 The Kansas Usurpation. [ February ,
benevolently subjected to the will of ico— both free soil — bad lately been
Congress; but Squatter Sovereignty ele- acquired, they contended that the mo
vated them, willy nilly, to an independent ment new territories attached to the
self -subsistence. They were declared United States, the same moment the
full-formed and fledged before they were Constitution attached to them ; and in
out of the shell. A mere conglomeration asmuch as the Constitution guarantied
of emigrants, Indian traders, and half- the existence of Slavery, presto, Slavery
breeds was invested with all the func- must be regarded as existing under it in
tions of a mature and ripened civilization. the Territories ! This, we say, was more
Long ere there were people enough in respectable ground than Squatter Sover
any Territory to furnish the officers of eignty, because it met the question more
a regular government,—before they pos- fairly in the face; yet, considered either
sessed any of the apparatus of court- as dialectics or history, it was not one
houses, jails, legislative chambers, etc. , es- whit less absurd . We do not wonder
sential to a regular government,-before that Webster, and all the other sound
they lived near enough to each other, in lawyers of the nation, heard such an an
fact, to constitute a respectable town- nouncement of Constitutional hermeneu
meeting, —before they could pay the ex- tics with utter surprise and astonishment
penses or gather the means of their own It was enough to astound even the veriest
defence from the Indians, these wonder- tyro in the law. The Constitution — and
ful entities were held to be endowed with especially by all the premises of the
the right of entering into the most com- State -Rights school — is a mere compact
plicated relations and of forming the most between the States ; it confers no powers
important institutions for themselves ,- but delegated and enumerated powers,
and not only for themselves, but for their and such as are indispensable to the exe
posterity. cution of these ; and nowhere is there a
This puerile dogma was asserted osten- clause or letter in it extending its opera
sibly in the interest of Slavery, in order tion beyond the States. Even in respect
to get rid of the power of Congress over to acknowledged powers , these are inop
that subject ; but the real source of iterative until carried into effect by a spe
was the cowardice of those invertebrate cial act of Congress ; they have no vi
and timorous politicians who desired to tality in themselves ,—they are only dead
evade the responsibility of expressing provisions or forms till Congress has
opinions concerning this power. Gen- breathed into them the breath of life ;
eral Cass was the putative father of it, and thence to argue that of their own
and it might well have come from one of energy they may leap into or embrace
his pliancy and calibre; but as Slavery it- the Territories is to argue that a corpse
self, embodied in the person of Calhoun , may on its own motion rise and walk.
scouted the feeble bantling , there was But granting this caoutchouc proper
soon no one so mean as to confess the ty, this migratory power, in the Constitu
paternity. Abandoned of its beget- tion, the inference that it would take
ters, Squatter Sovereignty wandered the Slavery with it is a still more monstrous
streets like a squalid and orphaned out- error than the original premises. Sla
cast, begging anybody and everybody to very as such is not recognized or guaran
take it in, and finding no creditable wel- tied by the Federal Constitution. Wbat
come anywhere. ever the five slave-holding judges of the
Calhoun and his friends, no less anx- Supreme Court may seek to maintain,
ious than Cass and his friends to rescue they cannot upset the universal logic of
Slavery from the discretion of Congress, the law, nor extinguish the fundamental
though for other reasons, contrived to principles of our political system . Sla
find a more respectable excuse for such very exists only by the local or municipal
a policy. As California and New Mex- usage of the States in which it exists ; it
1858.] The Kansas Usurpation . 495

is there universally defined as a right of 1850, Congress, contrary to the uniform

property in man ; whereas the Constitu- tendency of bodies entrusted with a
tion of the United States, in all its pro- discretion, vacated instead of enlarging
hibitions and provisions, designates and its powers. Its sovereign function of
acts upon human beings only as persons. territorial legislation was abdicated, in
Whatever their characters or relations favor of that wretched and ragged pre
under the laws of the States, they are , tender, Squatter Sovereignty ; and silly
under the Federal Constitution, Mex. or misguided people everywhere, who
Nowhere in that immortal paper is there professed to regard as dangerous that
an iota or tittle which gives countenance political excitement and agitation which
to the idea that human beings may be are the life of republics, hailed the acces
held as property. It speaks of “ persons sion of King Log as a glorious triumph
held to service or labor," as apprentices, of legitimacy.. In the remanding of a
for instance ,—and of persons other than delicate question from the central to a
free, i. e. not politically citizens, as In- local jurisdiction, in the conversion of a
dians and some negroes ; but it does not general into a topical inflammation, they
speak of Slaves or of Slavery ; on the affected to see an end of the difficulty, a
contrary, in every part, it legislates for cure to the disease. But no expectation
men solely as men . The laws of cach could have been less wise. It was a trans
State, and the relations of the various fer, and a possible postponement, but not
inhabitants of each State, it of course a settlement of the trouble. Had they
recognizes as valid within each State ; looked deeper, they would have discerned
but it recognizes them as resting exclu- that the dispute in regard to Slavery is
sively on the municipal authority of the involved in the very structure of our
State, and not on its own authority. government, which links two incompati
Against nothing did the framers of the ble civilizations under the same head,
Constitution more strenuously contend which compels a struggle for political
than against the admission of any phrase power between the diverse elements by
sanctioning the tenure of man as prop- the terms and conditions of their union,
erty. They refused even to allow of the and which, if the contest is suppressed at
use of the word servitude, so much did one time or place, forces it to break out
they hate the thing ; and Madison ex- at another, and will force it to break out
pressed their almost unanimous senti- incessantly, until either Frecdom or Sla
ment when he exclaimed, “ We in- very has achieved aa decisive triumph.
tend this Constitution to be THE GREAT The principle of the non -interference
CHARTER OF HUMAX LIBERTY to the of Congress with the Territories once se
unborn millions who shall yet enjoy its cured, there yet stood in the way of its
protection, and who should not see that universal application the time-honored
such an institution as Slavery was ever agreement called the Missouri Compro
known in our midst.” In that spirit nise. Down to the year 1820, Congress
was the instrument framed, and in that had legislated to keep Slavery out of the
spirit was it administered, while its Territories ; but at that disastrous era , a
framers lived. weak dread of civil convulsion led to the
Nevertheless, under the twofold pre- surrender of a single State (Missouri)
tence we have cited ,-the one reconcil- to this evil,—under aa solemn stipulation
ing the conscience with the cowardice of and warrant, however, that it should
the North, and the other conceding the never again be introduced north of a
arrogant pretensions of the South , —the certain line. Originating with the Slave
negation of the power of the central holders, and sustained by the Slave -hold
government over Slavery was carried ers , this compact was sacredly respected
into effect. By a legislative hocus-pocus, by them for thirty -three years ; it was
known as the Compromise Measures of respected until they had got out of it
496 The Kansas Usurpation . [ February ,
all the advantages they could , and until of the land settlers rushed thither, to take
Freedom was about to reap her advan- part in the wager of battle. They rushed
tages,—when they began to denounce it thither, as individuals and as associations,
as unconstitutional and void. A North- as Yankees and as Corn -crackers, as
ern Senator - whose conduct then we Blue Lodges and as Emigrant Aid So
shall not characterize, as he secins nowcieties ; and most of them went, not only
to be growing weary of the bard service as it was their right, but as it was their
into wbich he entered — was made the duty to do. Congress had invited them
instrument of its overthrow . That hal- in ; it had abandoned legitimate legisla
lowed landmark, which bad lifted its aw- tion in order to substitute for it a scrari
ful front against the spread of Slavery ble between the first comers ; and it had
for more than an entire generation, was said to every man who knew that Shu
obliterated by a quibble, and the morn- very was inore than a simple local in
ing sun of the 22d of May, 1854 , rose terest, that it was in fact an element of
for the last time “ on the guarantied and the general political power, “ Come and
certain liberties of all the unsettled and decide the issue here ! ”
unorganized region of the American Whatever the consequences, therefore,
Continent. ” Everything there was of the cowardly action of Congress was the
honor, of justice, of the love of truth original cause . But what were the con
and liberty, in the heart of the nation, sequences ? First, a protracted anarchy
was smitten by this painful blow ; the and civil war among the several classes
common sense of security felt the wound ; of emigrants ;—second, a murderous in
the consoling consciousness that the faith vasion of the Territory by the border
of men might be relied upon was re- ers of aa neighboring State, for the pur
moved by it; and to the general imagina- pose of carrying theelections against the
tion , in fact, it seemed as if some mighty bonâ -fide settlers ; -third, the establish
-

charm , which bad stayed the issue of un- ment of a system of terrorism , in which
told calamities, were suddenly and wan- outrages having scarcely a parallel on
tonly broken. this continent were committed, with a
Thus, after the Constitution had been view to suppress all protest against the
perverted in its fundamental character ,- illegality of those elections, and to drive
after Congress had been despoiled of one out settlers of a particular class ; -fourth,
of its most important functions,-after a the commission of a spurious legislative
compact, made sacred by the faith , the assembly, in the enforced absence of
feclings, and the hopes of the third of a protests against the illegal returns of
century, was torn in pieces,—the road votes ;-fifth, the enactment of a series
was clear for the organization of the of laws for the government of the Terri
Kansas and Nebraska Territories. It was tory, the most tyrannical and bloody ever
given out, amid jubilations which could devised for freemen , -laws which aimed
not have been louder, if they had been a fatal blow at the four corner-stones
the spontaneous greetings of some real tri- of a free commonwealth , freedom of
umph of principle, that henceforth and speech, of the press, of the jury, and of
forever the inhabitants of the Territories suffrage; -sixth, the recognition of Sla
would be called to determine their “ do very as an existing fact, and the denun
mestic institutions ” for themselves. Un- ciation of penalties, as for felony, against
der this theory, and amid these shouts, every attempt to question it in word
Kansas was opened for settlement ; and or deed ;-and, finally, the dismissal of
it was scarcely opened , before it became, the Territorial Governor, (Reeder,) who
as might have been expected, the battle- had exhibited some signs of self-respect
ground for the opposing civilizations of and conscience in resisting these wicked
the Union, to renew and fight out their schemes, and who was compelled to fly
long quarrel upon. From every quarter the Territory in disguise, under a double
1858.] The Kansas Usurpation. 497

menace of public prosecution and pri- it had ever before assumed . The ghost
vate assassination . of the murdered Banquo would not down
These were the scenes of the first act, at its bidding. Nearly the entire session
in aa drama then commenced ; and those of 1856 was consumed in heated and
of the next were not unlike. A sec virulent debates on Kansas. The House,
ond Governor (Shannon) having been fresh from the affections of the people,
procured , -a Governor chosen with a was disposed to do justice to the sufferers ;
double fitness to the use, on the ground it confirmed, by the investigations of its
of his sympathy with whatever was vul- committees, the verity of every complaint,
gar in border -ruffian habits and with and it was not willing to allow aa trivial
whatever was obsequious in Presidential technicality to stand in the way of the
policy , --the deliberate game of forcing great cause of truth and right. But the
the settlers to submit to the infamous Senate was dogmatic and hard ,—full of
usurpation of the Missourians was opened. whims, and scruples, and hair-splitting
But, thank Heaven ! those brave and difficulties,-ever straining at gnats and
hardy pioneers would not submit ! There swallowing camels ; of the few there in
was enough of the blood of the Puritans clined to bear a manly part, one was
and of the Revolutionary Sires coursing overpowered by the club of a bully, and
in their veins, to make them feel that sub- the others by the despotism of numbers
mission, under such circumstances, would and of party -drill. As for the Executive,
have been a base betrayal of liberty, a it was bound hand and foot to the Slave
surrender of honor, and a sacrifice of Power, and had no option but to let loose
every honest sentiment of justice and its minions, its judges, its sheriffs, its
self-respect. Conie,” they said to the vagabonds, and its dragoons upon the
marauders, 66
come, back this flesh poor Free - State men, whose only crime
from our limbs, and scatter these bones was a retusal to submit to the most
to bleach with those of so many of our outragcous abuses. Their towns were
friends and brothers, already strewn upon burned, their presses destroyed, their
thc unshorn and desolate fields,—but do assemblies dispersed , and their wives
not ask us to submit to wrongs so daring and children brutally insulted. The de
or to frauds so foul ! ” The marauders bauched and imbecile Governor, who rep
took them at their word , and hewed and resented the Federal Power, hounded on
hacked them with shameless cruelty ; yet, the miscreants of the border to the work
with a singular forbearance, the friends of destruction , so long as he was able ;
of freedom did not hastily resent the out- but he happily became in the end too
rages with which they had been visited . weak even for this perfunctory labor;
They loved freedom, but they loved law and he gradually sank into deliquium, till
too ; and they proceeded in a legal and his final withdrawal into the obscurities
peaceful spirit to procure the redress of whence he had emerged gave a momen
their grievances,-in the first place by tary peace to the distracted and baffled
an appeal to Congress, and in the second, settlers.
by the organization of a State govern- We pass over the administration of
ment of their own. Both of these meth- Geary, the third of the Kansas Gover
ods they had an indisputable right to nors , -a period which the ravages of
adopt ; for the first is guarantied to every the marauders were continued, but under
citizen, even the meanest,-and the sec- meliorated circumstances. The great
ond, though informal, was not illegal, and uprising of the Northern masses, in the
had, time and again, been sanctioned by Presidential election, had impressed upon
the highest political tribunals of the land. the most desperate of the Pro-Slavery
Congress had dismissed the subject of faction the necessity of a restrained and
Territorial Government; and here it was moderated zeal. Geary went to the Ter
again, in a more troublesome guise than ritory with some desire to deal justly with
VOL. I. 32
498 The Kansas Usurpation . [ February ,
all parties. He fancied, from the prom- support. In his inaugural address, Mr.
ises made to him , that he would be sus- Buchanan foreshadowed a complete and
tained in this honorable course by the final adjustment of every element of
President. It was no part of his concep- discord . He selected, for the accom
tion of his task , that he should be called plishment of his policy, a statesman of
upon to screen assassins, to justify per- national reputation, experienced in poli
jury. But he had reckoned without tics, skilful in adıninistration, and of well
knowledge of what he had undertaken. known principles and proclivities in the
He was soon involved with the self-styled practical affairs of government. Mr.
judiciary of Kansas, whose especial fa- Walker accepted the place of Territorial
vorites were the promoters of outrage ; Governor, under the most urgent entrea
his correspondence was intercepted, his ties, and on repeated and distinct pledges
plans thwarted, his motives aspersed , his on the part of the President that the or
life menaced ; and he resigned his thank- ganization of Kansas as a State should
less charge, in a feeling of profound be unfettered and free. Ilis personal
contempt and bitter disappointment, —of syinpathies were strongly on the side of
contempt for the restless knot of villains the party which had so long ruled with
who circuinvented all conciliatory action, truculent hand in the affairs of the Ter
and of disappointment towards superi- ritory ; but he was none the less resolved
ors at Washington who betrayed their that the fairly ascertained majority should
promises of countenance and support. have its way .
With the advent of Mr. Buchanan to Under assurances to that effect, the
the Presidency a new cra was expected , Free State men, for the first time since
because a new era had been plainly pre- the great original fraud which had dis
scribed by the entire course and spirit of franchised them , consented to enter into
the Presidential campaign. All through an electoral contest with their foes and
that heated and violent contest , it was oppressors . The result was the return
loudly promised on one side, as it was of a Free - State delegate to Congress,
loudly demanded on the other , that the and a Free - State legislature , by a major
affairs of Kansas should be honestly and ity which , after the rejection of a series
equitably administered . As the time had of patent and wretched frauds, was more
then come, in the progress of population , than ten to onc ; and yet the desperate
when the Territory might be considered game of conquest and usurpation was
competent to determine its political in- not closed . For, in the mean time , a
stitutions,—the period of its immaturity convention of delegates to frame a State
and pupilage being past ,—the election Constitution had been summoned to as
turned upon the single issue of Justice semble at Lecompton . It was called
to Kansas . Mr. Buchanan and his party , by the old spurious legislature, which
—their conventions , their orators, and represented Missouri, and not Kansas ;
their newspapers, -in order to quell the it was called by a legislature, which ,
storm of indignation swelling the North- even if not spurious, had no authority
ern heart, were voluble in their pledges for making such a call ; it was called
of a fair field for a fair settlement of all under provisions for a census and reg
its difficulties. In the name of Popular istry of voters which in more than half
Sovereignty , — or of the indisputable the Territory were not complied with ;
right of every people, that is a people , and it was elected by a small proportion
to determine its political constitution for of a small minority , the Free State men
itself , —they achieved a hard -won suc- and others refusing to enter into a con
cess . On no other ground could they test under proceedings unauthorized at
have met the gallant charge of their best, and as they believed illegal. Let
opponents, and on no other ground did it be added, also, that a large number
they retain their hold of the popular of its members were pledged to submit
1858.] The Kansas Usurpation . 499

the result of their doings to a vote of the illegal election provided for can be
the people , -- according to what Mr. Bu- regarded only as the crowning atrocity
chanan , in his instructions to Governor of the long series of atrocities to which
Walker, and Governor Walker himself, Kansas has been subjected.
on the strength of those instructions, had The most surprising thing, however,
proclaimed as the policy of “ the party. " could anything surprise us in these Kan
This Convention, in the prosecution of sas proceedings, is, that the President,
its gratuitous task, devised the scheme of eating all his former promises, adopts the
a Constitution wholly in the interest of Lecompton Convention as a legitimate
its members and of the meagre minority body, and commends its swindling mode
they represented,-and so objectionable of submission as a “ fair ” test of the
in many respects, that not one in twenty popular will ! Yet, it is sad to say, this
of the voters of the Territory, as Gover- is only following up the line of prece
nor Walker informed the writer of this, dents established from the beginning.
could or would approve it. Recognizing The plot against the freedom of Kansas
Slavery as an existing fact, and per- was conceived in a Congressional breach
petuating it in every event, it yet pur- of faith ; it was inaugurated by invasion,
ported to submit the question of Slavery bloodshed , and civil war ; it was prose
to a determining vote of the people. cuted for two years through a series of
This was, however, a mere pretence ; for unexampled violences; and it would be
the methoil proposed for getting at the strange, if it had not been consuminated
sense of the people was nothing but a at Lecompton and Washington by a se
pitiful jugule, according to which no one ries of corresponding frauds. It seems
could vote on the Slavery question who to have been impossible to touch the
did not at the same tiine vote for the business without perpetrating some in
Constitution . No alternative or disere- iquity, great or small; and Mr. Bu
tion was allowed to the citizens whose chanan, cautious, circumspect, timorous,
Constitution it purported to be ; if they as he is, tumbles into the fatal circle
voted at all on the vast variety of sub- headlong
jects usually embraced in an organic law, And how do we know all this ? Upon
they must vote in favor of the measures what kind and degree of evidence do
roncocted by the Convention . The cn- we rest these heavy accusations ? Upon
tiro conduct of the clection and the final the hasty opinions of those who are un
adjudication of the returns, morcover, friendly to the principles and purposes of
were taken out of the hands of the of- the dominant party ? Not at all ; but
ficers, and from under the operation of upon the voluntary confessions of the
the laws, already established by the Ter- distinguished and chosen agents of that
ritorial authorities, to be vested exclu- party, these agents being themselves
sively in one of the Convention's own eyewitnesses of the facts to which they
creatures ,-a reckless and unprincipled testify:· For proof of the original inva
politician , whose whole previous career sion and usurpation, with all its frauds
had been an ofence and a nuisance to and outrages, we appeal to the testimony
tlıe majority of the inhabitants. Had of Governor Reeder; for proof of the
the Convention been legitimately called continued ravages and persistent malig
and legitimately chosen, this audacions nity of the border ruffians, we appeal to
abrogation of the Territorial laws and of the testimony of Governor Geary ; and
the functions of the Territorial officers for proof of the illegal and swindling
would in itself have been sufficient to character of the late Constitutional morc
vitiate its authority ; but being neither ment, we appeal to Governor Walker ;
legitimately called, nor legitimately chos- all these witnesses being original friends
en, and outraging the sentiments of of the Kansas-Nebraska bill and policy ;
nincteen twentieths of the community, all the original coadjutors of the Slave
500 The Kansas Usurpation . [ February,
Power ; all its carefully selected instru- sanely obstinate as the despotisms of the
ments; all strongly prejudiced at the Old ? Is there no warning, no instruc
outset against the cause and the men oftion, to be derived from the examples
the Free State Party ; and yet, each one of those older nations ? An eloquent
of them , as soon as he has fairly entered historian has recently depicted for us,
the field of his operations, offering such in scenes which the memory can never
loud rebuke of the plans and projects lose, the mad attempts of the House of
of his own party as to provoke his speedy Stuart to Romanize England, to the loss
removal !-no strength of party attach- of the most magnificent dominion the
ment, no pliability of conscience, no hope world ever saw ; and another historian ,
of future favor, no dread of instant pun- scarcely less eloquent, has drawn a series
ishment, being sufficient to prevent him of fearfully interesting pictures of the
from turning against his own masters stern efforts of the Spaniards to impose
and colleagues ! Even the Senators of a detested State and a more detested
the party catch the spirit of revolt ; and Church upon the burghers of the Neth
the very godfather of the Kansas scheme, erlands. The spirit of James II., and
-its most efficient advocate,-the lead- the spirit of Philip II., was the same
ing and organizing mind of it,-has be- spirit which is now striving to force Sla
come the strongest opponent and bitter- very and Slave Law upon Kansas ; and
est denouncer of the policy which directs though the field of battle is narrower,
its execution . and the scene less conspicuous, the con
In this view of the case , may we not sequences of the struggle are hardly of
ask whether this base and cruel attempt less moment. Kansas is the future seat
at subduing Kansas has not gone far of empire; she will yet give tone and
enough ? Have not the circumstances law to the entire West ; and they who
shown that it is as impracticable as it are fighting there, in behalf of humanity
is base and cruel ? Or are we to see and justice, do not fight for themselves
the despotism of the New World as in- alonc, but for a large posterity.

SONNET.

The brave old Poets sing of nobler themes

Than the weak griefs which haunt men's coward souls.
The torrent of their lusty music rolls
Not through dark "valleys of distempered dreams,
But murmurous pastures lit by sunny streams ;
Or, rushing from some mountain height of Thought,
Swells to strange music, that our minds have sought
Vainly to gather from the doubtful gleams
Of our more gross perceptions. Oh, their strains
Nerve and ennoble Manhood !--no shrill cry ,
Set to a treble, tells of querulous woe ;
Yet numbers deep -voiced as the mighty Main's
Merge in the ringdove's plaining, or the sigh
Of lovers whispering where sweet streamlets flow .
1858. ] Art . 501

ART.

THE BRITISH GALLERY IN NEW YORK.

To speak of English Art was , ten years forms, reverential of authorities, and sub
ago, to speak of something formless, cha . ject to enthusiasms for new things, whose
otic, indeed, so far as any order or organi very extravagance tends to reaction . If
zation of principles was concerned, - Pre-Raphaelitism now holds its own in
mass of individual results , felt out, often , England , it is simply because it is neither
under the most glorious artistic inspiration, thoroughly understood nor completely de
but much oftener the expression of merely fincd . It is an absolutely revolutionary
ignorant whim , or still more empty aca movement, and must, therefore, be reject
demic knowledge , -a waste of uncultivat ed by the English mind when seen as
ed, unpruned brushwood, with here and such , -and this all the more certainly and
there a solitary tree towering into unap speedily because Ruskin with his imagin
proachable and inexplicable syinmetry and ative enthusiasm has raised it to a higher
beauty. Hogarth , Gainsborough, and Tur position than it really deserves at present.
ner are great names in Art-history ; but to That cause is unfortunate which retains
deduce their development from the Eng as its advocate one whose rhetoric per
lish culture of Art, one must use the same suades all , while his logic convinces none ;
processes as in proving Cromwell to have and the too readily believing converts of
been called up by the loyalty of English his enthusiasm and splendid diction , their
men . They towered the higher from con sympathetic fire abated, revert with an
tempt for the abasement around them . implacable bitterness to their former tradi
If there was greatness in measure in Eng. tions. With all our respect for Ruskin ,
lish Art, it was greatness subjected to tra we think that he has asserted many
dition and conventionalism . The three things, but proved next to nothing. He
artists we have just named were the only has utterly misunderstood and misstated
grcat freemen in the realm of Art Eng Pre-Raphaclitism , which will thus be one
land flad known down to the close of the day the weaker for his support.
first half of the nineteenth century ; and But, pending this inevitable decline in
of Niese, Turner alone has left his impress favor at home, Pre -Raphaelitism colonizes.
on the Art succeeding his. During the past year, some lovers of Art
With the commencement of the pres in England organized an association , hav
ent half-century there began a system ing as its purpose the introduction of Eng
atic movement in revolt from the degra lish Art to the American public ,-partly,
dation of Art in England , which , unfor it was to be expected, with the view of
tunately, so far as significance was con opening this El Dorado to the English
cerned , assumed the name of l’re - Ra painter, but still more with the desire to
phaclitism . It extended itself rapidly, extend the knowledge of what was to
absorbing most of the young painters of them a new and important revelation of
any force or earnestness, and attracting Art. In its inception the plan was almost
some who already held high places in exclusively Pre -Raphaelite, but extended
public esteem . Being something new, itself, on after -consideration , so far as to
it was sure of its full measure of de admit the worthiest artists of the conven
rision while it was considered unimpor tional stamp. We have the first fruits of
tant, and of bitter and violent antago the undertaking in an exhibition which
nism when it became evident that it was has achieved a success in New York, and
strong enough to make its way . This which will probably visit the principal
hostility , beaten down for the moment by cities of the Union before its return home
the rhetoric of Ruskin and the inlierent in the spring to make way for a second
earnestness of the new Art, is, however, which will open in the autumn.
as sure to prevail again as the English It is not as a collection of pictures
character is at once conservative of old merely that we purpose to notice this ex.
502 Art. [ February,
hibition Out of pearly four hundred pic- ly less noticeable for their rendering of
tures, the great proportion are mere con- solemn twilight, tender and touching as
ventionalisms,-many of them choice, but the memory of aa loved one long dead .
most of them in no wise to be compared The water-color representation is, indeed ,
with the pictures of the same class by complete and interesting; but we have
French and German painters, since nei- only present use with five of these draw .
ther just drawing nor impressive color ings, by Turner, and from different stages
redeems their inanity of conception of his progress .
There are some curious water-color draw . Ruskin,in his pamphlet on Pre-Raphael
ings by Lance , remarkable mainly as itism, has drawn such a comparison be
forcibly painted , some exquisite color. tween Turner and the Pre-Raphaclites as
pieces by William Hunt, and a number of to make them only different manifesta
fine examples of the matter -of- fact com- tions of the same spirit in Art. Nothing,
mon -place which forins the great mass of it seems to us, could be more mistaken
pictures in the London exhibitions. Two than this ; for, in all that concerns either
drawings deserve especial, though brief, the end of Art or its paths of approach , its
notice ; one a coast bit by Copley Field purposes or its methods, Turner and the
ing , -a sultry, hazy afternoon on the sca- l're-Raphaelites are diametrically opposed.
shore, where sca and sky , distance and Turner was intensely subjective,-the Pre
foreground , are fused into one golden, Raphaelites are as intensely objective.
slumberous silence, in which neither wave There is no evidence whatever in Tur
laps nor breeze fans, and only the blinding nor's works that he ever made the slightest
sun moves, sinking slowly down to where attempt to reproduce Nature in such guise
heaven and occan mingle again in a hap- as the Pre-Raphaelites paint her in ; on
py dream of their old unity before the the contrary, the carly drawings of Tur
waters under the firinanient were divided ner are as inattentive to absolute truth
from the waters above the firmament, and of detail as they could well be . His
the stranded ships lie with sails drooping course of study was one of memory . He
and listless on a beach from which the commenced by expressing in his drawing
last tide seems to have obbed, leaving the such palpable facts and truths as were
ooze glistening and gleaming in the sun- most strongly retained, and in which he
light ,,-a
-a picture of rare sentiment and ar- conveyed the great impression of the
tistic refinement ;-the other is a waterfall scene, with the most complete indifference
by Nesfield , -a dreamy, careless, wayward ' to all facts not essential to the telling of
plunge of waters over ledge after leilge his story . From this, as his memory grew
of massive rock , the merry cascade envel- stronger and his perception more minute
oping itself in a robe of spray and mist, on and comprehensive, lie widened his circle
the skirt of which flashes the faintest vis- of ideas and facts , always working from
ion of a rainbow , which wavers and fits , al . feeling rather than from what Nature sct
most , as you look at it , while the jets of before him . His mind thus sitting his
foam plash up from the pool at the foot of perceptions , retaining always only those
the fall, a tranquil pause of the waters in which consiituted the essential features
a depth of uncertain blue, in which a sug- of the impression, and with a distinctness
gestion of emerald flashes, and from which proportioned to their relative importance,
they dance on in less frantic mood over there necessarily resulted a subjective
the brown and water-worn boulders to unity like that of an absolute creation .
follow their further whims; everything The Pre-Raphaelites, on the other hand,
that is most charming and spirituelle in the endeavor to paint everything that they
water- fall is given , and with a delicacy of sce just as they see it ; and doing this
color and subtilty of execution fitting the without permitting the slightest liberty of
subject. These are not the only good choice to their feeling, where they have
drawings, but there is in them a simplici- feeling, their Art is , of course, in all its
ty and singleness of purpose, a total sub- early stages, destitute of that singleness
ordination of all minor matters to the of purpose which marked Turner's works
great impression, which makes them from the beginning. Turner felt an emo
points of poetic value in the collection . tion before Nature, and used the objects
There are some drawings by Finch , scarce- from which he had received the emotion
1858.] Art. 503

as symbols to convey it again ;-the Pre- of her ; and the analogy to this in music
Raphaelites look at Nature as full of beau- would be found in a passage of ordinary
tiful facts, and, like children amid the conversational language written down,
flowers, they gather their hands full , “ in- with its inflections and pauses recorded in
different of worst or best ,” and when musical signs. Both are transcripts of
their hands are full , crowd their laps and Nature, but neither is in any way poetic,
bosoms, and even drop some already pick- or, strictly speaking, artistic ; we cannot,
ed , to make room for others which beckon by any addition or refinement, make them
from their stems, -insatiable with beauty. so .
Now mark that in the two early
This is delightful, —but childlike, never- drawings of Turner we have white and
theless. Turner was , above all, an artist; black with only the slightest possible sug
with him Art stood first, facts secondary ; gestion of blue in the distance ; – the
— with the Pre -Raphaelites it is the re- corresponding form in language is verse,
verse ; it is far less important to them that with its measure of time for measure of
their facts should be broadly stated and in space, and just so much inflection of voice
keeping in their pictures, than that they as these drawings have of tint, -enough
should be there and comprehensible. To not to be absolutely monotonous. We
him a fact that was out of keeping was a have in both cases left the idea of mere
nuisance , and he treated it as such ; while imitation of Nature, and have entered on
any talsehood that was in keeping was as Art. Versc grows naturally into music by
unhesitatingly admitted, if he needed it to simple increase of the range of inflection,
strengthen the impression of his picture . as Turner's color will grow more melodic
Turner would put a rainbow by the side and finally harmonic . And in thus begin
of the sun , if he wanted one there ;-a Pre- ning Turner has placed his works above
Raphaelite would paint with a stop -watch , the level of prosaic painting of Nature,
to get the rainbow in the right place. just as verse is placed above prose by the
In brief, Turner's was the purely sub- unanimous consent of mankind . From
jective method of study , a method tatal to these simple presages of Art we may di
any artist of the opposite quality of mind ; verge and follow his development as a
—that of the Pre-Raphaelites is the purely poet by his engravings, without ever mak
objective, absolutely enslaving to a sub- ing reference to him as a colorist. But
jective artist , and no critic capable of fol- beside being a poet, he was a great color
lowing out the first principles of Art to composer. If, leaving poetry as recited ,
logical deductions could confound the two. we take the ballad , or poetry made fully
The one leads to a sentimental, the other melodic, we have the single voice, passing
to a philosophic Art ;) and the only advice through measured inflections and with
to be given to an artist as to his choice of measured pauses. Correspondingly, the
method is, that, until he knows that he next in the series of Turner drawings, the
can trust himself in the liberty of the “ Aysgarth Force , ” shows no attempt to
subjective, he had better remain in the give the real color of Nature, but a single
discipline of the objective. The fascina- color governing the whole drawing, a
tion of the former, once felt, forbids all golden brown passing in shadow into its
return to the latter. It he be happy in the exact negative. There is an absolute
Pre-Raphaelite fidelity , let him thank the tint, full, and inflected through every
Muse and tempt her no farther. shade of its tones to the bottom of the
There can be no more valuable lesson scale. The strict analogy is broken in
in Art given than that series of Turner this case by a dash of delicate gray-blue
drawings in the British collection , both as in the sky and gray -red in the figures,
concerns its progression in the individual the slightest possible accompaniment to
and those subtile analogies between paint. his golden -brown melody ; but these were
ing (color) and music , -analogics often not needed , and we finil earlier drawings
hinted at , but never, that we are aware , which adhere to the strict monochrome.
fully followed out. Color bears the same In the drawing next in date , the “Hast
relation to form that sound does to lan- ings from the Sca,” we have the further
guage. If a painter sit down before Na- step from monochrome to polychrome ;
ture and accurately match all her tints, we have the distinct trio, the golden yel.
we have an absolute but prosaic rendering low in the sky, the blue in the sea, and
504 Art.
the red in the figures in the boats , —as in a
vocal trio we have the only three possible
musical sounds of the human voice, the
soprano , the basso, and the falsetto of the
child's voice. All these colors are dis-
tinctly asserted and perfectly harmonized
in a most exquisite play of tints, but it is
still no more like Nature than the trio in
“ I Puritani” is like conversation . Turner
never dreamed of painting like Nature,
and no sane man ever saw or can see , in
this world , Nature in the colors in which
he has painted lier, any more than he will
find men conducting business in operatic
notes .
One step farther, and we leave the an-
alogy. In the “ Swiss Valley ,” one of his
last works, we are from the first conscious
that his harmonies have run away with
9
his theme. In Ole Bull's “ Niagara ” we
have almost as much of matter-of-fact Na-
ture as in Turner's “ Swiss Valley . ” The
eye untrained by study of Turner's works
finds nothing but a blaze of color with no
intelligible object , just as we have, in
opera , music of which tie words are in-
audible ;-both are there for practised ear
and eye, but in neither case as of primary
importance. Turner has even gone farther,
and given us pictures of pure color, as in
the illustration of Goethe's theory of col-
ors,-a rimtasie of the palette. And why
shall Turner not orchestrate color as well
as Verdi sound ? why not give us his syn.
claromies as well as Beethoven his sym-
phonies ? You prefer common sense ,
Harding and Fripp, Stanfield and Cres-
wick ? Well , suppose you like better to
hear some familiar voice talking of past
times than to hear “ Robert le Diable "
ever so well sung, or Hawthornc's prose
better than Browning's verse , -it proves
nothing, save that you do not care for
music and poetry so well as some others
do.
But after all , Turner was one of the old
school of artists . Claude was the first land-
scape painter of the line , Turner the last ;
subjective poets both , —the one a child ,
the other a mighty man . But the poets no
longer govern the world as in times past ;
they give place to the philosophers. The
race is no longer content with its inspi-
rations and emotions, but must see and
understand . The old school of Art was
one of sentiment, the new is one of fact;
and out of that English mind from whose
[ February,
seeming common -place level of untrained,
unschooled intellect have burst so many of
the loftiest souls the world has known,
from that mind more inspired in its want
of academic greatness, more self-educated
in its wild liberty, than the best- trained
nations of Europe, this new school has fit
tingly had its origin.
We speak of it as a School, though yet in
its rudiments, because it has a distinctive
character, a real purpose,--and because
it is the embodiment of the new-age spirit
of truth -seeking, of the spirit of science,
rather than that of song. Among the pic
tures contributed to the English exhibi.
tion by the Pre -Raphaclites, there are very
few which do not convey tbe distinct im
pression of a determined effort to realize
certain truths. There are few which suc
ceed entirely ; but this is so far from aston
ishing, that we have only to think that the
oldest of these artists has hardly passed
his first decade of recognized artistic exist
ence , and that their aims are new in Art, to
wonder that so much of fresh and subtile
truth is given . There are two respects in
which nearly all the works of the school
agrec, and which have come to be regard
ed by superficial students of Art as its
characteristics , namely , that they are very
deficient in drawing and devoid of grace.
Both deficiencies are such as might have
been expected from the circumstances.
Young men filled with carnestness and
enthusiasm , and with an artistic purpose
full in view, will spend little time in ac
quiring academic excellences , or trouble
themselves much with methods or styles
of drawing. They dash at once to their
purpose, and let technical excellence fol
low, as it ought, in the train of the idea of
their work . Of course they do not com
pare, as draughtsmen and technists, with
men who have spent years in getting a
knowledge of the proportions of the hu
man figure, and the best methods of ap
plying color ; but, on the other hand , they
are safe from that niost alluring and fatal
course of study which makes the subject
only a lay figure to display artistic capa
city on. Of all the pictures of the school,
in the collection of which we speak , there is
but one of academic excellence in drawing,
66
-the “ King Lear " of Ford Madox Brown.
All the others have errors , and some of
them to a ludicrous degree ; but wherever
refined drawing is needed to convey the
1858. ]
idea of the picture, no school can furnish
drawing more subtile and expressive.
The head of the “ Light of the World ”
is worthy in this respect to be placed be-
side Raphael and Da Vinci ; and the
“ Ophelia ” ofHughes, though inexcusably
incorrect in the figure, has a refinement
of drawing in the face , and especially in
the lines of the open , chanting mouth , and truth -seeking Art, one in all its char
which no draughtsman of the French acteristics essentially religious in the high
school can equal . It is where the idea
guides the hand that the Pre-Raphaelites
are triumphant ; everywhere else they fail.
But this is a fault which will correct itself
as they learn the significance and value
of things they do not now understand.
They paint well that which they love,
and devotion grows and widens its sphere
the longer it endures, taking in , little by
little, all things which bear relation to the
thought or thing it clings to ; and the man
who draws because he has something to
tell, and draws that well , is certain of final-
ly drawing all things well . This very de
ficiency of Pre -Raphaelitism , then , points
to its true excellence, and indicates that
singleness of purpose which is an element
in all truc Art. The want of grace, which
is made almost a synonyme with Pre- Ra-
phaelitism , has its origin in the same
resolute clinging to truth as the artist
comprehends it, and uncompromising de-
termination to express it as perfectly as
he has the power ,-a feeling which never
permits him to think whether his work be
graceful, but whether it be just ; so that
his tremulous and almost fearful conscien-
tiousness - tremulous with desire to see
all, and fearful lest some line should wan-
der by a hair's breadth from its fullest
expressiveness — makes him lose sight
entirely of grace and repose. No form
that has the appearance of being painful- Art -new in motive, new in methods,
ly drawn can ever be a graceful onc ; and and new in the forms it puts on . To
so the Pre-Raphaelite, until he has some- like it or to dislike it is a matter of
thing of a master's facility and decision ,
can never be graceful. The artist who
prefers grace to truth will never be re-
markable either for grace or truth , while
the one who clings to truth at all sacrifi-
ces will finally reach the expression of the
highest degree of beauty which his soul
is capable of conceiving ; for the lines
of highest beauty and supremest truth
are coincident. The Ideal meets the
Actual finally in the Real .
If there be one point of feeling in which
Art . 505
the Pre-Raphaclites can be said to be
more than in all others antagonistic to the
schools of painting which preceded them ,
it would be that indicated by this distinc
tion , —that the new school is one which in
all cases places truth before beauty, while
the old esteems beauty above truth . The
tendency of the one is towards a severe
est sense of the term , holding truth dearer
than all success in popular estimation, or
than all attractions of external beauty,
reverent, self-forgetting, and humble be
forc Nature ; that of the other is towards
an Art Epicurcan and atheistic, holding
the truth as ' something to be used or
neglected at its pleasure, and of no more
value than falsehood which is equally
beautiful, —making Nature, indeed , some
thing for weak men to lean on and for su
perstitioi's men to be enslaved by. This
distinction is radical; it cuts the world of
Art, as the equator does the carth, with
an unswerving line, on one side or the
other of which every work of Art falls,
and which permits no neutral ground, no
chance of compromise;–he who is not for
the truth is against it. We will not be
so illiberal as to say that Art lies only
on one side of this linc ; to do so were to
shut out works which have given us ex
ceeding delight; – so neither could we
exclude Epicurus and his philosophy from
the company of docrs of good ;-but the
distinction is as inexorable as the line
Christ drew between his and those not
his ; it lies not in the product, which
may be mixed good and evil, but in the
motive, which is indivisible.
Pre-Raphaelitism must take its position
in the world as the beginning of a new
mental constitution. The only mistake
men can make about it is to consider it
as a mature expression of the spirit which
animates it. Not one, probably not two
or three generations, perhaps not so many
centuries, will see it in its full growth.
It is a childhood of Art, but a child.
hood of so huge a portent that its ma
turity may well call out an expectation
of awe. In all its characteristics it is
childlike , -in its intensity , its humility,
its untutored expressiveness, its marvel
506
lous instincts of truth, and in its very
profuseness of giving , -filling its caskets
with an unchoosing lavishness of pearl
and pebble, rose and may -weed, all trcas-
ures alike to its newly opened eyes, all so
beautiful that there can scarcely be choice
among them .
To suppose that a revolution so com-
plete as this could take place without a
bitter opposition would be an hypothesis
without any justification in the world's
experience ; for, be it in whatever sphere
or form , when a revolution comes , it of
fends all that is conservative and reveren
tial of tradition in the minds of men ,
and arouses an apparently inexplicable
hostility, the bitterness of which is not at
all proportionate to the interest felt by the
individual in the subject of the reform ,
but to his constitutional antipathy to all
reform , to all agitation. The conserva-
tive at heart hates the reformer because
he agitates , not because he disturbs him
personally. This is clearly seen in the
hostility with which the new Art has been
met in England, where conservatism has
built its strongest batteries in the way of
invading reform . For the moment, the
English mind , bending in a surprised def-
erence to the stormy assault of the en-
thusiasts of the new school, partly carried
away by its characteristic admiration of
the heroism of their attack and the fiery
eloquence of their champion, Ruskin , and
perhaps not quite assured of its final
effect, forgets to unmask its terrible
artillery. But to upset the almost im-
morable English conservatism , to teach
the nation new ways of thought and feel-
ing, in a generation ! Cromwell could not
do it ; and this wave of reform that now
surges up against those prejudices, more
immovable than the white cliffs of Albion,
will break and mingle with the heaving
sea again , as did that of the republicanism
of the Commonwealth , whose Protector
never sat in lis seat of government more
firmly than Ruskin now holds the protec- -governs with a tyranny as absolute , an
torate of Art in England. When political
reform moved off to American wilder-
nesses for the life it could not preserve in
England , it but marked the course reform
in Art must follow. The apparent ascen-
dency which it has obtained over the old
system will as certainly turn out to be
temporary as there is logic in history ;
because an Art, like a political system,
Art . [ February,
to govern a nation , must be in accordance
with its character as a nation,-must, in
fact, be the outgrowth of it. The only
unfailing line of kings and protectors is
the people ; with them is no interregnum ;
and when the English people become fit
ted by intellectual and moral progress to
be protectors of a new and living Art , it
will return to them just as surely as re
publicanism will one day return from its
exile ,
“ And all their lands restored to them again,
That were with it exiled ."
The philosophic Art will find a soil free
from Art-prejudices and open to all seeds
of truth ; it will find quiet and liberty to
grow , not without enemies or struggles,
but with no enemies that threaten its
safety , nor struggles greater than will
strengthen it. The appreciation and frank
acceptance it has met on its first appear
ance here, the number of carnest and in
telligent adherents it has already found ,
are more than its warmest friends hoped
for so soon . But in England, while its
appreciating admirers will remain adher
ents to its principles , it will pass out of ex
istence as an independent form of Art , and
the elements of good in it will mingle with
the Art of the nation, as a leaven of non
conformity and radicalism , breeding agita
tions enough to keep stagnation away and
to secure a steady and irresistible progress.
Its trucst devotees will remain in prin
ciple what they are , losing gradually the
external characteristics of the school as it
is now known ,-while the great mass of
its disciples, unthinking, impulsive, will
sink back into the ranks of the old school,
carrying with them the strength they
have acquired by the severe training of
the system , so that the wliole of English
Art will be the better for Pre -Raphaelit.
ism . But with Ruskin's influence ceases
the Commonwealth of Art ; for Ruskin
governs, not represents , English feeling,
authority as unquestioned, as did Oliver
Cromwell.
Of tho men now enlisted in the reform ,
few are of very great value individually .
Millais will probably be the first impor.
tant recusant. He is a man of quick
growth , and his day of power is already
past ; the reaction will find in him an
ally of name, but he has no real great

1858. ] Literary Notices.
ness. William Holman Hunt and Dante
Rosetti are great imagivative artists , and
will leave their impress on the age.
Ford Madox Brown , as a rational, earnest
painter, holds a noble and manly posi-
LITERARY
History of the Republic of the United States
of America , as traced in the Writings of
Alexander Hamilton and his Contempora-
ries. By Jous C. HAMILTON. Vol . I.
New York : D. Appleton & Co., Broad- . they radiate, he must pardon us, if we
way. 1857.
Counc llistories have never been to our
taste . The late Mr. Gilbert à Beckett, we
always thought, might have employed his
vis comica , or force of fun, better than in
linking ludicrous images and incongruous
associations with the heroes of ancient and
modern times. The department of Comic
Biography, we believe , has received few
contributions, if any , from the frolic quills
of wicked wags. The cure, however, of
this defect in our literature , if any there
be, may be looked upon as begun in the early policy of this Great Republic .”
work whose title stands at the head of this
notice. The author, indeed , had not the
settled purpose of the facetious writers we
have just dispraisel, of making game of
the subject of his book, no more than he
has the wit and cleverness which half re-
deem their naughtinesses. The absence
of these latter qualities is supplied in his
case by the self-complacent good faith in
which he puts forth his monstrous assump-
tions and the stolid assurance with which
he maintains them . But the effect of his
labors, as of theirs, is to throw an atmos-
phere of ludicrous ideas around the mem-
ory of a great man , painful to all persons
of good taste and correct feelings .
Filial piety is a virtue to which much
should be forgiven . And the son of such
a father as Alexander Hamilton might
well be pardoned for even an undue esti-
mate of his services , if it were kept with-
in the decent bounds of moderate exag-
geration . But when he undertakes to
-
507
tion .But then we have done with great
names . Much seed has sprung up on
stony ground ; but, having little soil,
when the sun shines, it will die. The
slow growth is the surc one.
NOTICES.
make his father the incarnation of the
Revolution and of the Republic, and to
concentrate all the glories of that heroic
age in him as the nucleus from which
think , that, by long contemplation of the
object of his filial admiration, his mental
sight has become morbid and distorted,
and sees things which are not to be seen.
Beginning his book with the assumption
that Hamilton was the first to conceive
the idea of “ the Union of the People of
the United States,” - an assumption which
we can by no means admit, though sup
ported ( as we learn from a foot note) by
the opinion of Mr. George Ticknor Curtis,
-the author proceeds “ to trace in his life
and writings the history of the origin and
Through the whole volume, “ THE RE
PUBLIC stands rubric over the left- hand
page, and “ HAMILTON over the right,
and the identity of the two is sought to
be established from the beginning to the
end. Now, deep as is the sense we enter
tain of the services of Hamilton to his
country, and scarcely less than filial as is
the veneration we have been taught from
our earliest days to feel for his inemory,
we must pronounce this pretension to be
as absurd and futile in itself as it is unjust
and ungenerous to the other great men of
that pregnant period.
We do not know whether or not Mr.
John C. Hamilton is of opinion, that, had
his illustrious father lived and died a tra
der in the island of Nevis , thic American
Revolution would never have taken place,
nor the American Republic been founded ;
but he plainly considers that the great
contest began to assume its most moment
ous gravity from the time llamilton first
 508 Literary Notices.
entered upon the scene, as an haranguer at
popular mectings in New York , as a writ-
er on the earnest topics of the day, as a
spectator of the broadside fired by the
Asia on the Battery , as a captain of ar-
tillery at White Plains, and especially as
the aide-de-camp and secretary of Waslı-
ington . This part of the history of Ilam-
ilton , and particularly the testimony about
his selection by Washington for this great
confidence when scarcely twenty years of
age , bears to his eminent qualities, one
would think , honor enough to satisfy the
most pious of sons. But from this mo-
ment, according to the innuendoes, if not
the broad asscrtion of Mr. Hamilton,
Washington was chiefly of use to sign the
letters and papers prepared by his military
secretary , and to carry out the plans he
had conceived . On the theatre of the
world's history, from this time forth ,
Washington is to be presented , like Mr.
Punch on the ledge of his show -box,
squcaking and jerking as the strings are
pulled from below by the hand of his
boy -aide-de -camp. Ile writes letters to
Congress, to all and singular the Ameri-
can Generals , to the British Generals, to
the Governors of States, and to all whom
it may concern , over the signature of
Washington , ” ( which detestable Ameri-
canism Mr. Hamilton invariably uses , )
the whole credit of the correspondence
being coolly passed over to the account of
the secretary ! That Hamilton did his
duty excellently well there is no ques-
tion , but it was a purely ministerial one.
He furnished the words and the sentences ,
but Washington breathed into them the
breath of their life. As well might the
confidential clerk of Mr. John Jacob Astor
claim his estate, in virtue of having writ-
ten , under the direction of his princi-
pal, the business letters by which it was
acquired. It we arc not mistaken, this
Mr. Hamilton some time since included
Washington's Farewell Address in the
collection of his father's works. Perhaps
Mr. Jefferson owes it to the accidents of
time and distance, that the Declaration of
Independence is not reclaimed as another
of Hamilton's estrays. We forbear to
characterize this attempt to transfer the
credit of the correspondence of Washing-
ton from the head to the hand , in the
terms which we think it deserves ; for we
apprehend the niere statement of the case
[ February,
will enable every right-judging man to
form a very competent opinion of it for
himself.
Though we cannot conscientiously say ,
judging from this book , that Mr. Hamil
ton has inherited the literary skill of his
father, it is very clear that he is the faith
ful depositary of his political antipathies.
At the earliest possible moment the hered
itary rancor against John Adams bursts
forth , and it bubbles up again whenever
an opening occurs or can be made. His
patriotism , his temper, his manners, his
courage, are all in turn made the theme of
bitter, and of what is meant for strong
denunciation . His journeys from Phila
delphia to Braintree, though with the
permission of Congress , are flights” ;
his not taking the direct road , which
would bring him in dangerous vicinity to
the enemy, is a proof of cowardice ! His
free expression of opinion as to the con
duct of the campaign in the Jerseys
maule before the seal of success had certi .
fied to its wisdom - was rancorous hos
tility to Washington, if not absolute con
spiracy against him ; and so on to the
end of the chapter. As this volume only
brings the history of the Republic, as con
tained in that of Hamilton , then in the
twenty-second year of his age, to 1779,
we tremble to think of what yet awaits
the Second President , as the twain in one
grow together from the gristle into the
bone. What we have here we conceive
to be the mere sockets of the gallows of
fifty cubits' height on which this New
England Morilecai is to be hanged up as
an example to all malefactors of his class.
We make no protest against this sum
mary procedure, if the Biographer of the
Republic think it due to the memory of
his father ; but we would submit that he
has begun rather early in the day to bind
the victim doomed to deck the feralia of
his hero .
The literary execution of this book is
not better than its substantial merits de
scrve . The style is generally clumsy,
often obscure, and not unseldom harsh
and inflated. Take an instance or two,
picked out absolutely at random .-- " The
6
disaffected , who held throughout the con
test the seaboard of the State in abeyance,
driven forth , would have felt in their wan .
derings there would be no parley with
them .” p. 127. - Again , “ It became the
1858.] Literary Notices.
policy of the Americans, while holding
the enemy in check , to draw him into
separate detachments, in successive skir.
mishes to profit of their superior aim and
activity, and of their better knowledge of
the country, and to keep up its confidence
by a system of short and gradual retreats
from fastness to fastness ,-from river be-
yond river.” p. 129.—These sentences,
taken at hap -hazard from two consecutive
leaves, are not unfair specimens of the
literary merits of this intrepid attempt to
convert the history of the nation, at its
most critical perioil, into a collection of
Mémoires pour serrir to the biography of
General Hamilton .
We are very sure that Mr. Hamilton
has undertaken a task for which he has
neither the necessary talent normate-
rials, and which can only end , as it has
begun, in a ridiculous failure. If we
could hope that our words would reach
or ininence bim , we would entreat him
to be content with the proud heritage
of fame which his father left to his chil-
dren , without seeking to increase it by
encroachments on that left behind them
by his great contemporaries. The fame
of Hamilton, in leerl, is no peculiar and
personal property of his descendants. It We are thankful—let us add in a whis
belongs to us all , and neither the malice
of his enemies nor the foolish fondness of
bis son can separate it from us . Not-
withstandling the amusement we could
not help deriving from the perusal of this
volume, and sure as we are that the book
must grow more and more diverting, in
its way , as it goes on , we cannot but feel
that the entertainment will be dearly pur-
chased at the cost of even the shadow of
just ridicule resting, even for a moment,
on so illustrious and vencrable a name as
that of AlexAxDER HAMILTOX.
Parthenia : or the Last Days of Paganism .
By Eliza BucKMINSTER LEE, Author
of “ Naomi,” “Life of Jean Paul,”
3)
“ Lives of the Buckminsters, ” etc. , etc.
Boston : Ticknor & Fields. 1858. 12mo.
pp. 420 .
The true gauge of any civilization ,
whether of a race , a nation , or a district,
is to be found in the character and posi-
tion of its women. Slaves, toys, idols,
companions, they rise with every ascend-
ing grade of culture until they have won
509
the natural place so long denied them .
The feminine string rings a true octave
with the masculine, and makes a perfect
concord, when left to vibrate in its entire
length . But the lower forms of social hu
manity are constantly shortening it, and
so producing occasional harmonies at the
expense of frequent discords.
We hold such a book as “ Parthenia " to
have a wide significance to all who read
thoughtfully . It is the work of a thor
oughly cultivated woman , who, in her no
bleness of aim , in her generosity of sen
timent, in her purity of thought and style,
may be considered a worthy representa
tive of our best type of educated woman
hood. Mrs. Lec's former writings have
made hier name honored and clicrished in
both hemispheres. Thomas Carlyle said
of her “ Lives of the Buckminsters,"
" that it gave an insight into the real life
of the highest natures,” — “ that it had
given him a much better account of char
acter in New England than anything he
had seen since Frankli ..
We hail a production like this, so schol
arlike and serene, so remote from the
trivialities and vulgarities of ambitious
book -makers, with pleasure and pride.
per - for a story , with love and woman in
it, which does not rustle with crinoline ;
that most useful of inventions for ladies
with limited outlines, and literary man
milliners with scanty brains ; which has
filled more than half the space in our
drawing -rooms, and nearly as large a part
of some of our periodicals, since the God .
desses of Grace and of Dulness united to
bestow the precious gift on Beauties and
Baotians.
A story deals with human nature and
time. All that is truly human is interest
ing, however abstractly stated ; but it re
quires the mordant of specific circum
stance, involving some historical period ,
to make it stain permanently . Every
thing that belongs to Time, as his private
property, - everything temporary, using
that word in its ordinary sense,-is unin
teresting, except so far as it serves to fix
the colors of that humanity which we al
ways love to contemplate. The statuary ,
who cares nothing about Time, loves to
drop his costuming trumpery altogether.
The cheap story , written for the day, is
dressed in all the fashionable articles that
510 Literary Notices.
can be laid upon it, like the revolving
lady in a slıop window . The real story,
which alone outlives the modiste's bonnets
and shawls , may drape itself as it pleases ;
for it does not depend on its peplos, or stola,
on its stomacher, or basque, -or crinoline, for
its effect.
“Parthenia " is a tale of the fourth cen-
tury , but it tells the experience of lofty
souls in all centuries. The particular pe-
riod chosen is one of the deepest inter-
est,-that of the conflict of expiring Pa
ganism with growing Cliristianity , under
Julian the Apostate. Julian's character,
as drawn in the story, may be considered
as a true liistorical study . The " grand
conservative of the fourth century," as Mrs.
Lee calls him, is painted as a violent and
arbitrary man, but always sincere and no-
ble in his delusions. lle never loses our
respect, and we admire as often as pity
him . When people, professing to believe
that a few sestertia invested in papyri and
sent to their barbarian neighbors would
be sure to save hundreds or thousands of points. The book is not a mere harmless
fellow-creatures from an eternity of in- piece of literary presumption ; it is a pos
conceivable agony, do, notwithstanding, itive evil , as cumbering ground which
expend great sums on “ snow -wlite mules
and golden harness,” to carry them to the
Basilica, or on any other selfish gratifica-
tion whatsoever, we cannot wonder that
Julian, or any body else, is ready to take
up the pleas:int “ creed outworn ” which
Wordsworth half yearns after in his fa-
mous sonnet, as prcfcrable to that basc
system of psychophagy prevailing in the
church of Antioch .
Parthenia, the heroine of the story , is
drawn with great power and feeling. She
comes before us at first with the classic
charms of an Athenian beauty ; she leaves
us resplendent with the aureola of a Chris-
tian saint. The change is gradually and
naturally wrought; a Christian maid -ser-
vant wins her love and reverence, and her
proud and restless heart finds peace in the
simple faith taught by the little slave,
Areta .
We cannot in this brief notice follow
the incidents of the tale, which will be
found full of interest. A remarkably
graceful style and a harmonious arrange-
ment of scenery and incident make the
chapters flow on like a series of gliding
pictures. The pleasure afforded by the
beauty of the story will , perhaps, be
enough for most readers ; but those who
[ February,
read carefully will perceive that it fur
nishes matter for deep reflection to the
student of history and of theology
The Life of Michael Angelo Buonarotti, with
Translations of many of his Poems and
Letters. Also Memoirs of Saronarola , Ra
phari, and Victoria Colonna . By John
S. HARFORD, Esq . , D. C. L. , F. R. S.,
etc., etc. 2 vols. 8vo. London . 1857.
AUTORIOGRAPHIES are not the only
memoirs in which there is scope for the
display of vanity. Some men flatter
themselves by connecting their names on
a title-page with the name of some great
character of the past . Self-love quickens
their admiration of their hero, and admi
ration for their hero gratifics their self
love . Mr. Harford belongs to this class
of biographers. The title and the appear
ance of his volumes excite expectations
which acquaintance with them disap
might be better occupied, and as giving
such authority as it may acquire to false
views of Art and to numerous crrors of
fact. There was need of a good biogra
phy of Michel Angclo, and Mr. Harford
has made a bad one. The defects of the
book are both external and essential . Mr.
Harford's mind is of the commonplace
order, and incapable of a true apprecia
tion cither of the character or the works
of such a man as Michel Angelo. He
has no sympathetic insight into the depths
of liuman nature . Nor has he the method
and power of arrangement, such as may
often be found in otherwise sccond-rate
biographers, which might enable him to
set forth the external facts of a life in
such lucid and intelligible order as to ex
hibit the force of circumstances and posi
tion in moulding the character. His
learning, of which there is a considerable
display, appears on examination shallow
and superficial, and his style of writing is
often clumsy, and never elegant.
Michel Angelo , like all great men of
genius , is the reflex and express image of
many of the ruling characteristics and
tendencies of his time. The strongest na
tures receive the strongest impressions,
and the most marked individuality per
1858.] Literary Notices.
vades the character which is yet the
clearest and best defined type of its
own age. The decline of religious faith ,
the vagueness of the prevailing religious
philosophy, and the approach of the Ref-
ormation, are all to be predicated from the
“ Last Judgment ” in the Sistine Chap-
el ; the impending fall of Art is to be
read in the form of the “ Moscs ” of San
Pietro in Vincoli ; the luxury and pomp
of the Papal Court and Church are man-
ifest in the architecture of St. Peter's,
whose dome is swollen with earthly pride ;
the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel betrays
the recoil toward heathenism from the
vices and corruptions that then hung
round Christianity ; and the Sacristy of
San Lorcnzo is the saddest and grandest
exhibition that those days afforded of the
infidelity into which the last men were
forced.
Vasari and Condivi are the great pro-
viders of facts in relation to Michel An-
gelo, and they have left little to be desired
in this respect. The garrulous fondness
of Vasari leads him into delightful Bos.
wellian details, and gives us more than a
mere outline narrative. Mr. llartord has
transferred much of Vasari's writing to
his own pages, but has succeeded in trans-
lating or mistranslating all vitality out of it.
Mr. Harforil has attempted, by giving
sketches of the chief characters of Flor-
ence and of Rome during Michel An-
gelo's life, to show some of the personal
influences which most affected him . But
his bricks all lie separate ; they are not
built up with mortar that holds them to-
gether. A superficial account of the Pla-
tonic Academy is inserted to show the
effect of the fashionable philosophy of
Florence upon the youthful artist ; but it
is so done that we learn little more from
it than that the Academy existed, that
Michel Angelo was a member of it, and
that he wrote some poems in which some
Platonic ideas are expressed. There is no
philosophic analysis of the individual Pla-
tonism which is apparent, not only in his
poems, but in some of his paintings, -no
exhibition of its connection with the other
portions of his intellectual development.
Michel Angelo's ideas of beauty, of the
relation of the arts , of the connection be-
tween Art and Religion, deserve fuller
investigation than they have yet received.
His tremendous power has exerted such
511
a control over sensitive, imaginative, and
weak minds, that even his errors have
been accepted as models, and his false
ideas as principles of authority. Mr. Har
ford's book will do little to assist in the
formation of a true judgment upon these
and similar points.
But Wwe will not confine our notice to
assertions ; we will exhibit at least some
of the minor faults upon which our asser
tions are based ,-for it would demand lar
ger space than we could give to enter upon
the illustration of the principal faults of
the book . First, then , for inaccuracies of
statement,-which are the less to be ex
cused , as Mr. Ilarford had ample opportu
nity for correctness. For instance, in the
description of the tombs of the Medici,
Mr. Ilarford writes of the famous figures
of Aurora and Twilight, Day and Night :
“ The four figures that adorn the tombs
are allegorical; and they are specially
worthy of notice, because they first set
the example of connecting ornamental
appendages of this description with fune
real monuments. Introduced by so great
an authority , this example was quickly
followed throughout the whole of Eu
rope.” The carelessness of this assertion
is curious . The custom of connecting
allegorical figures with funereal monu
ments had prevailed in Italy for a long
time before Michel Angelo. Perhaps the
most striking and familiar instance, and
one with which Mr. Harford must have
been acquainted, is that afforiled by the
tombs of the Scaligeri at Verona, where,
on the monument to Can Signorio, of the
latter part of the fourteenth century , ap
pear Faith , Hope, Charity, Prudence, and
other allegorical figures.
Again , in speaking of the old basilica of
St. Peter's, he speaks of the unusual Orient.
alism of this the principal church of West
ern Europe, whose entrance is towards
the past and the altar to the west. Now
this Orientalism is by no means unusual in
the churches at Rome. Indeed , it seems
to have been the rule of building for the
early churches, -and Santa Maria Mag
giore , San Giovanni Laterano, San Sc
bastiano, San Clemente , and innumerable
others , exhibit it in their construction .
The priest, officiating at the altar, which
stood advanced into the church, looked
toward the east.
Again , Mr. Harford says, “ The pencil
512 Literary Notices.
of Giotto was employed by Benedict XII.
in the year 1310 " ; but he does not tell us
how the pencil answered the purpose for
which it was employed in a hand other
than its master's. Giotto died in 1336.
Such are specimens of errors of state-
ment. We can give but a very few exam-
ples of the numerous mistranslations we
have marked , -mistranslations of such a
nature as to throw a doubt over the state-
ments in every portion of the book. In a
letter to Luca Martini, thanking him for a
copy of Varchi’s commentary on one of translate literally and to show the origin
his own sonnets, Michel Angelo says :
Since I perceive by his words and
praises that I am esteemed by the author
to be that which I am not , I pray you
to offer such words to him from me as
befit such love , affection , and courtesy.”
This Mr. Harford translates as follows :
“ And since I am almost persuaded by
the praises and commendations of its au-
thor to imagine myself to be that which
I am not , I must entreat you to convey
to him some expressions from me appro-
priate to such love, affection , and cour-
tesy ." - Again , writing to Benvenuto Cel.
lini, to express bis pleasure in a portrait that I found the difficulty of translating
bust of his execution , which he had juwt
seen, he says : Bindo Altoviti took me
to see it. I had great pleasure in it, but
it vexed me much that it was put in a
bad light.” Mr. Harford renders : “ Bin-
do Altoviti recently showed me his own
portrait, which delighted me, but lie lit-
tle understood me, for he had placed it qualified person to attempt the biography
in a very bad light.” * - Again, in another
* Here Mr. Harford shows his ignorance
of the common Italian idiom , e mi seppe
molto male,-“ it vexed ” or “ displeased me
[ February
letter, Michel Angelo says : “ Teaching
him that which I know that his father
wished he should learn ,” which Mr. Har
ford transforms into, “ I will teach him
all that I know , and all that his father
wished him to learn ." Rather a con
siderable promise !-In another letter, Mr.
Harford makes Michel Angelo say, “ I
thank you for everything you say on the
subject, as far as I can foresee the fu
ture ." Michel Angelo did say : “ For
which news I thank you bieartily,” or, to
of Mr. Hartord's error, “ I thank you
as much as I know how I can , ”- quanto
so e posso.
One would have supposed that a con
sciousness of an imperfect acquaintance
with the Italian language might at least
have deterred Mr. Harford trom attempt
ing poetical translations from it. But he
has notwithstanding rendered many of
Michel Angelo's poems into English
versc . Of these poems Wordsworth said,
“ So much meaning has been put by Mi.
chel Angelo into so little room , and that
meaning sometimes so excellent in itself,
him insurmountable. I attempted at lcast
fifteen of 1!:( sunnets, but could not any
when acced .” Ilow Mr. Harford has
SUC lud where Wordsworth failed , we
wil le our readers to infer.
We wish that dissatisfaction with Mr.
Harioru's volur ... w might lead some better
of Mic... Angelo.
mucli. " te tries to render the words liter
ally, and wakes nonsense.

|
The continuation of the story, " Akin by Marriage,” is unavoidably deferred,
owing to the severe illness of the author. It will be resumed as soon as his health
shall permit.
 THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE , ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL. I. — MARCH , 1858.—NO. V.

THE CATACOMBS OF ROME.

-parti elette
Di Roma, che son state cimitero
Alla milizia che Pietro seguette.
PARADISO , c. ix.

I. the means of enhancing her claims and

“ Roma SOTTERRANEA, " — the under- increasing her power; mingling with
ground Rome of the dead, —the buried them falsehoods and absurdities, cherish
city of graves. Sacred is the dust of its ing the wildest and most unnatural trar
narrow streets. Blessed were those who, ditions, inventing fictitious miracles, doga
having died for their faith, were laid to matizing on false assertions, until reason
rest in its chambers. In pace is the epi- able and thoughtful religious men have
taph that marks the places where they turned away from the history of the first
lie. In pace is the inscription which the Christians in Rome with a sensation of
imagination reads over the entrance to disgust, and with despair at the appar
the Christian Catacombs. ently inextricable confusion of fact and
Full as the upper city is of great and fable concerning them .
precious memories, it possesses none But within a few years the period to
greater and more precious than those which these stories belong has begun to
which belong to the city under ground. be investigated with a new spirit, even
Republican Rome had no braver heroes at Rome itself, and in the bosom of the
than Christian Rome. The ground and Roman Church. It was no unreason
motives of action were changed, but the able expectation, that, from a faithful
courage and devotion of earlier times and honest exploration of the catacombs,
did not surpass the courage and devotion and examination of the inscriptions and
of later days, while a new spirit dis- works of art in them or derived from
played itself in new and unexampled them, more light might be thrown upon
deeds, and a new and brighter glory the character, the faith, the feeling, and
shone from them over the world. But, the life of the carly Christians at Rome,
unhappily, the stories of the early Chris- than from any other source whatever.
tian centuries were taken possession of Results of unexpected interest have
by a Church which has sought in them proved the justness of this expectation.
VOL . I. 33
614 The Catacombs of Rome. [ March,
These results are chiefly due to the la- passages, cut through the soft volcanic
bors of two Romans, one a priest and rock of the Campagna, so narrow as
the other a layman, the Padre Marchi, rarely to admit of two persons walking
and the Cavaliere de Rossi, who have de- abrcast easily, but here and there on
voted themselves with the utmost zeal and either side opening into chambers of
with great ability to the task of explo- varying size and form . The walls of the
ration. The present Pope, stimulated by passages, through their whole extent, are
the efforts of these scholars, established lined with narrow excavations, one above
some years since a Commission of Sacred another, large enough to admit of a body
Archäology for the express purpose of being placed in each ; and where they
forwariling the investigations in the cat- remain in their original condition, these
acomls; and the French government, excavations are closed in front by tiles,
soon after its military occupation of or by a slab of marble cemented to the
Rome, likewise established a commission rock, and in most cases bearing an in
for the purpose of conducting independ- scription. Nor is the labyrinth compos
ent investigations in the same field . * ed of passages upon a single level only ;
The Roman catacombs consist for the frequently there are several stories, con
most part of a subterranean labyrinth of nected with each other by sloping ways.
There is no single circumstance, in
* In 1844, Padre Marchi published a series relation to the catacombs, of more strik
of numbers, seventeen in all, of a work en
titled Jonumenti delle Arti Cristiane Primitire ing and at first sight perplexing charac
nella Metropoli del Cristianesmo. The numbers ter than their vast extent. About twenty
are in quarto, and illustrated by many care different catacombs are now known and
fully executed plates. The work never
are more or less open,—and a year is
completel; but it contains a vast amount of now hardly likely to pass without the
important information , chiefly the result of
Padre Marchi's own inquiries. The Cavaliere discovery of a new one ; for the original
de Rossi, still a young man, one of the most number of underground cemeteries, as
learned and accomplished scholars of Italy, ascertained from the carly authorities,
is engaged at present in editing all the Chris- was nearly, if not quite, three times this
tian inscriptions of the first six centuries. number. It is but a very few years
No part of this work has yet appeared. He since the entrance to the famous cat
is the highest living authority on any question
regarding the catacombs. The work of the acomb of St. Callixtus, one of the most
French Commission has been published at interesting of all , was found by the Ca
Paris in the most magnificent style, in six im valiere de Rossi ; and it was only in the
perial folio volumes, under the title, Cata- spring of 1855 that the buried church
combes de Rome, etc. , etc. Par Louis Per- and catacomb of St. Alexander on the
RET. Ourrage publié par Ordre et aux Frais
du Gourernement, sous la Direction d'une Com Nomentan Way were brought to light.
mission composée de MM . AMPERE, INGRFS, Earthquakes, floods, and neglect have
MERIMÉE, VITET. It consists of four vol obliterated the openings of many of these
umes of elaborate colored plates of architec- ancient cencteries,—and the hollow soil
ture, mural paintings, and all works of art of the Campagna is full “ of hidden
found in the catacombs, with one volume of graves, which men walk over without
inscriptious, reduced in fac- simile from the knowing where they are ."
originals, and one volume of text. The
work is of especial value as regards the first
Each of the twelve great highways
period of Christian Art. Its chief defect which ran from the gates of Rome was
is the want of entire accuracy, in some in bordered on cither side, at a short dis
stances , in its representations of the mural tance from the city wall , by the hidden
paintings -some outlines effaced in the orig Christian cemeteries. The only one of
inal being tilled out in the copy, and some the catacombs of which even a partial
colors rendered too brightly. But notwith
standing this defect, it is of first importance survey has been made is that of St. Ag.
w illustrating the hitherto very obscure his- nes, of a portion of which the Padre
tory and character of early Christian Art. Marchi published a map in 1845. “ It is
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 515

calculated to contain about an eighth part one over another, on each side of the
of that cemetery. The greatest length of passage, and there is no space lost be
the portion thus measured is not more tween the head of one grave and the
than seven hundred feet, and its greatest foot of another. Everywhere there is
width about five hundred and fifty ; nev- economy of space ,—the economy of men
ertheless, if we measure all the streets working on a hard material, ditlicult to
that it contains, their united length be removed, and laboring in a confined
scarcely falls short of two English miles. space, with the need of haste.
This would give fifteen or sixteen miles This question of the number of the
for all the streets in the cemetery of St. dead in the catacombs opens the way
Agnes.".” * Taking this as a fair average to many other curious questions. The
of the size of the catacombs, for some are
length of time that the catacombs were
larger and some smaller, we must assign used as burial-places; the probability of
to the streets of graves already known others, beside Christians, being buried in
a total length of about three hundred them ; the number of Christians at Rome
miles, with a probability that the un- during the first two centuries, in com
known ones are at least of equal length. parison with the total number of the in
This conclusion appears startling, when habitants of the city ; and how far the
one thinks of the close arrangement of public profession of Christianity was at
the lines of graves along the walls of tended with peril in ordinary times at
these passages. The height of the pas- Rome, previously to the conversion of
sages varies greatly, and with it the num- Constantine, so as to require secret and
ber of graves, one above another ; but hasty burial of the dead ; — these are
the Padre Marchi, who is competent au- points demanding solution, but of which
thority, estimates the average number at we will take up only those relating im
ten, that is, five on each side, for every mediately to the catacombs.
seven feet,—which would give a popula- There can, of course , be no certainty
tion of the dead, for the three hundred with regard to the period when the first
miles, of not less than two millions and a Christian catacomb was begun at Ronie,
quarter. No one who has visited the —but it was probably within a few years
catacombs can believe, surprising as this after the first preaching of the Gospel
number may seem , that the Padre Mar- there. The Christians would naturally de
chi's calculation is an extravagant one as sire to separate themselves in burial from
to the number of graves in a given space. the heathen, and to avoid everything
We have ourselves counted eleven graves, having the semblance of pagan rites.
And what mode of sepulture so natural
* The foregoing extract is taken from a for them to adopt, in the new and affect
book by the Rev. J. Spencer Northcote, called
The Roman Catacombs, or some Account of ing circumstances of their lives, as that
the Burial-Places of the Early Christians in which was alreadly familiar to them in
Rome: London, 1857. It is the best ac the account of the burial of their Lord ?
cessible manual in English ,-the only one They knew that he had been " wrapped
with any claims to accuracy, and which con- in linen, and laid in a sepulchre which
tains the results of recent investigations. Mr. was hewn out of a rock, and a stone had
Northcote is one of the learned band of con
verts from Oxford to Rome . A Protestant been rolled unto the door of the sepul
may question some of the conclusions in his chre.” They would be buried as he was.
book , but not its general fairness. Our own Morcover, there was a general and ar
first introduction to the catacombs, in the dent expectation among them of the
winter of 1856, was under Mr. Northcote's second coming of the Saviour ; they be
guidance, and much of our knowledge of lieved it to be near at hand ; and they
them was gained through him . Mr. North
believed also that then the dead would
cote estimates the total length of the cata
combs at nine hundred miles ; we cannot but be called from their graves, clothed once
think this too high. more in their bodies, and that as Lazarus
516 The Catacombs of Rome. [ March,
rose from the tomb at the voice of his interment at Rome, it would have been
Master, so in that awful day when judg- a strong motive for its adoption by the
ment should be passed upon the earth early Christians. The first converts in
their dead would rise at the call of the Rome, as St. Paul's Epistle shows, were,
same beloved voice. in great part, from among the Jews.
But there were, in all probability, other The Gentile and the Jewish Christians
more direct, though not more powerful made one community, and the Gentiles
reasons, which led them to the choice of adopted the manner of the Jews in plac
this mode of burial. We read that the ing their dead, “ wrapped in linen cloths,
Saviour was buried — at least, the phrase in new tombs hewn out of the rock .”
appears applicable to the whole account Believing, then , the catacombs to have
of bis entombment— " as the manner of been begun within a few years after the
the Jews is to bury.” The Jewish pop- first preaching of Christianity in Rome,
ulation at Rome in the early imperial there is abundant evidence to prove that
times was very large. They clung, as their construction was continued during
Jews have clung wherever they have the time when the Church was persecuted
been scattered, to the memories and to or simply tolerated, and that they were
the customs of their country ,and that extended during aa considerable time after
they retained their ancient mode of sep Christianity became the established creed
ulture was curiously ascertained by Bo- of the empire. Indeed, several cata
sio, the first explorer of the catacombs. combs now known were not begun until
In the year 1602, he discovered a cata- some time after Constantine's conver
comb on what is called Monte Verde, - sion.* They continued to be used as
the southern extremity of the Janiculum, burial-places certainly as late as the
outside the walls of Rome, near to the sixth century. This use seems to have
Porta Portese. This gate is in the Trans- been given up at the time of the frequent
tiberine district, and in this quarter of desolation of the land around the walls
Rome the Jews dwelt. The catacomb of Rome by the incursions of barbarians,
resembled in its general form and ar- and the custom gradually discontinued
rangements those which were of Chris- was never resumed . The catacombs then
tian origin ;-but here no Christian em- fell into neglect, were lost sight of, and
blem was found. On the contrary, the their very existence was almost forgot
only emblems and articles that Bosio de- ten. But during the first five hundred
scribes as having been seen were plainly years of our era they were the burial
of Jewish origin. The seven -branched places of a smaller or greater portion of
candlestick was painted on the wall; the citizens of Rome, -and as not a sin
the word “ Synagogue ” was read on a gle church of that time remains, they
portion of a broken inscription ; and the are, and contain in themselves, the most
whole catacomb had an air of meanness important monuments that exist of the
and poverty which was appropriate to Christian history of Rome for all that
the condition of the mass of the Jews at long period.
Rome. It seemed to be beyond doubt It has been much the fashion during
that it was a Jewish cemetery. In the the last two centuries, among a certain
course of years, through the changes in class of critics hostile to the Roman
the external condition and the cultiva- Church , and sometimes hostile to Chris
tion of Monte Verde, the access to this tianity, to endeavor to throw doubts on
catacomb has been lost. Padre Mar- the fact of this immense amount of un
chi made ineffectual efforts a few years derground work having been accom
since to find an entrance to it, and Bo * For instance, about the middle of the
sio's account still remains the only one fourth century, St. Julius, then Pope, is said
that exists concerning it. Supposing to havebegun three. See Marchi's Monu
the Jews to have followed this mode of menti delle Arti Cristiane, p. 82.
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 517

plished by the Christians. It has been nificent in ruin ; very different, too, from
said that the catacoinbs were in part the the columbaria, or pigeon -holes, in which
work of the heathen, and that the Chris the ashes of the less wealthy were packed
tians made use of excavationswhich they away ; and still more different from the
found ready to their hand . Such and sad undistinguished ditch that received
other similar assertions have been put for the bodies of the poor :
ward with great confidence ; but there is
“ Hoc miseræ plebi stabat commune sepul.
one overwhelming and complete answer crum . "
to all such doubts , -a visit to the cata
combs themselves . No skepticism can It not unfrequently happens in the soil
stand against such arguments as are pre- of the Campagna, that the vein of harder
sented there. Every pathway is distinct- rock in which the catacombs are quar
ly the work of Christian hands ; the ried assumes the soft and sandy charac
whole subterranean city is filled with a ter which belongs to it in a state of de
host of the Christian dead. But there composition. The ancient Romans dug
are other convincing proofs of the char- this sand as the modern Romans do ;
acter of their makers. These are of a and it seems probable, from the fact
curiously simple description, and are due that some of the catacombs open out
chiefly to the investigations of late years . into arenaria, or sandpits, as in the case
Nine tenths of the catacombs now known of the famous one of St. Agnes, that
are cut through one of the volcanic rocks the Christians, in time of persecution,
which abound in the neighborhood of when obliged to bury with secresy , may
Rome. Of the three chief varieties of have chosen a locality near some dis
volcanic rock that exist there, this is the used sandpit, or near a sandpit belong
only one which is of little use for pur- ing to one of their own number, for the
poses of art or trade. It could not have easier concealment of their work , and
been quarried for profit. It would not for the safer removal of the quarried
have been quarried, therefore , by the tufa. In such cases the tufa may have
Romans, except for the purposes of bur- been broken down into the condition of
ial, —and the only inscriptions and other sand for removal. In later times, as the
indications of the character of the occu- catacombs were extended , the tufa dug
pants of these burial-places prove that out from one passage was carried into the
they were Christian .* They are very old passages no longer used ; and thus, as
different from the sepulchres of the great the catacomb extended in one direction , it
and rich families of Rome, who lined the was closed up in another, and the ancient
Appian , the Nomentan, and Flaminian graves were concealed . This is now one
Ways with their tombs, even now mag- of the great impediments in the way of
modern exploration ; and the same pro
* The volcanic rocks are the Tufa litoide, cess is being repeated at present ; for the
very hard, and used for paring and other such Church allows none of the earth or stone
purposes ; difficult to be quarried, and unfit to be removed that has been hallowed as
for graves on account of this difficulty. The the resting -place of the martyrs, and thus,
Tufu granulare, a soft, friable, coarse -grained as one passage is now opened , another
rock, easily cut, -fitted for excavation. It is
in this that the catacombs are made. It is has to be closed. The archæologists may
used for very few purposes in Rome. One rebel, but the priests have their way.
may now and then see some coarse filling -up The ancient filling up was, however, pro
of walls done with it, or its square - cut blocks ductive of one good result; it preserved
piled up as a fence. The third is the Pura some of the graves from the rilling to
pozzolana, —which is the Tufa granulare in a which most were exposed during the
state of compact sand,yielding totheprint period of the desertionof the catacombs,
of the heel, dug like sand, and used exten
sively in the unsurpassed inortar of the Ro Most of the graves which are now found
man buildings. with their tiled or marble front complete,
518 The Catacombs of Rome. [March
and with the inscription of name or date or digger, who was a recognized officer
upon them unbroken , are those which of the early Church, had had the leisure
were thus secluded . for preparing graves before they were
But there is still another curious fact needed. Here, there is a range of little
bearing upon the Christian origin of graves for the youngest children, so that
the catacombs. They are in general all intants should be laid together, then
situated on somewhat elevated land , a range for older children, and then
and always on land protected from the one for the grown up. Sometimes,
overtlow of the river, and from the instead of a grave suitable for a sin
drainage of the bills. The early tradi- gle body, the excavation is made deep
tions of the Church preserve the names enough into the rock to admit of two,
of many Christians who gave land for three, or four bodies being placed side by
the purpose,-a portion of their vignas, side, — family graves. And sometimes,
or their villas. The names of the women instead of the simple loculus, or coffin
Priscilla, Cyriaca, and Lucina are hon- like excavation, there is an arch cut out
ored with such remembrance, and are at- of the tuta , and sunk back over the whole
tached to three of the catacombs. Some- depth of the grave , the outer side of which
times a piece of land was thus occupied is not cut away, so that, instead of being
which was surrounded by property be- closed in front by a perpendicular slab
longing to those who were not Christian. of inarble or by tiles, it is covered on
This seems to have been the case, for in- the top by a horizontal slab. Such a
stance, in regard to the cemetery of St. grave is called an arcosolium , and its
Callixtus ; for (and this is one of the somewhat elaborate construction leads to
recent discoveries of the Cavaliere de the conclusion that it was rarely used
Rossi) the paths of this cemetery, cross- in the earliest period of the catacombs.*
ing and recrossing in three, four, and five The arcosolia are usually wide enough for
stages, are all limited to a definite and more than one body ; and it would seem ,
confined area,—and this area is not de- from inscriptions that have been found
termined by the quality of the ground , upon their covering -slabs, that they were
byt apparently by the limits of the field not intieqnently prepared during the life
overhead . There can be no other prob- time of persons who had paid beforehand
able explanation of this but that Chris for their graves. It is not iinprobable
tians would not extend their burial-place that the expenses of some one or more
under land that was not in their posses- of the cemeteries may have been borne
sion. Many other facts, as we shall sce by the richer members of the Christian
in other connections, go to establishi be- community, for the sake of their poorer
yond the slightest doubt the Christian brothers in the faith . The example of
origin and occupation of the catacombs. Nicolemus was one that would be read
Descending from the level of the ground ily followed .
by a night of steps into one of the narrow But beside the different forms of the
underground passages, one sees on cither
side, by the light of the taper with which * There is one puzzling circumstance in
he is providerl, range upon range of the cemetry of S. Domitilla . All the graves
tombs cut, as has been described , in the in this cemetery are arcosolin , ani poi the
date of its construction is early . The Cava
walls that border the pathway. Usually liere le Rossi suggests that the cemetery was
the arrangement is careful, but with an begun at the expense of the Domitilla whose
indiscriminate mingling of larger and name it bears, the niece of Domitian, pre
smaller graves, as if they had been vionsly to her banislıment; that her posi
tion enabled her to have it laid out from the
made one after another for young and
old, according as they might be brought beginning on a regular plan, and to introduce
this more expensive and claborate form of
for burial. Now and then a system of grave, which was continued for the sake of
regularity is introduced, as it the fossor, uniformity in the later excavations.
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 519

graves, by which their general character the tomb were, perhaps, in this very act,
was varied , there were often personal preparing to follow his steps,—were, per
marks of affection and remembrance af- haps, preparing themselves for bis fate.
fixed to the narrow excavations, which Their thoughts were with their Lord ,
give to the catacombs their most pecu- and with his disciple who had just suffered
liar and touching interest. The marble for his sake, — with their Saviour who was
facing of the tomb is engraved with a coming so soon. What matter to put a
simple name or date ; o where tiles name on the tomb ? They could not for
take the place of marble, the few words get where they had laid the torn and wea
needed are scratched upon their baru ried limbs away. In pace, they would
surface. It is not too much to say that write upon the stone ; a palm -branch
we know more of the common faith should be marked in the mortar, the sign
and feeling, of the sufferings and rejoice of suffering and triumph. Their Lord
ings of the Christians of the first two would remember his servant. Was not
centuries from these inscriptions than his blood crying to God from the ground ?
froin all other sources put together. And could they doubt tha : the Lord
In another paper we propose to treat would also protect and arenge ? In
more fully of them. As we walk along those first days there was little thought
the dark passage, the eye is caught by of relics to be carried away, — little
the gleam of a little fake of glass fast- thought of material suggestions to the
ened in the cement which once held the dull imagination, and pricks to the fail
closing slab before the long since rifleding memory. The eternal truths of
grave. We stop to look at it. It is a their religion were too real to them ;
broken bit from the bottom of a little jar their faith was too sincere ; their belief
a

(ampulla) ; but that little glass jar once in the actual union of heaven and
held the drops of a martyr's blood, which earth, and of the presence of God with
had been carefully gathered up by those them in the world, too absolute to allow
who learned from him how to die, and them to feel the need of that lower or
placed here as a precious memorial of his der of incitements which are the resort
faith. The name of the martyr was per- of superstition, ignorance, and conven
haps never written on his grave; if it tionalism in religion. In the earlier bur
were ever there, it has been lost for cen- ials, no differences, save the ampulla and
turies ; but the little dulled bit of glass, as the palm , or some equally slight sign , dis
it catches the rays of the taper borne tinguished the graves of the martyrs from
through the silent files of graves, sparkles those of other Christians.
and gleams with a light and glory not of It is not to be supposed that the nor
this world . There are other graves in mal state of the Christian community in
which martyrs have lain, where no such Rome, during the first three centuries,
sign as this appears, but in its place the was that of suffering and alarm . A pe
rude scratching of a palm -branch upon riod of persecution was the exception to
the rock or the plaster. It was the sign long courses of calm years. Undoubted
of victory, and he who lay within had ly, during most of the time, the faith was
conquered. The great rudeness in the professed under restraint, and possibly
drawing of the palm, often as if, while with aa sense of insecurity which render
the mortar was still wet, the mason had ed it attractive to ardent souls, and pre
made the lines upon it with his trowel, served something of its first sincerity. It
is a striking indication of the state of must be remembered that the first Chris
feeling at the time when the grave was tian converts were mostly from among
made. There was no pomp or parade ; the poorer classes, and that, however
possibly the burial of him or of her who we might have admired their virtues, we
bad died for the faith was in secret ; those might yet have been offended by much
who carried the corpse of their beloved to that was coarse and unrefined in the ex
520 The Catacombs of Rome. [ March,
ternal exhibitions of their religion. The Touching, tender memorials of love and
same features which accompany the re- piety ! Few are left now in the opened
ligious manifestations of the uncultivat- catacombs, but here and there one may
ed in our own days, undoubtedly, with be seen in its original place, -the visible
somewhat different aspect, presented sign of the sorrow and the faith of those
themselves at Rome. The enthusiasms, who seventeen or eighteen centuries ago
the visions, the loud preaching and pray- rested upon that support on which we
ing, the dull iteration and reiteration of rest to-day, and found it, in hardest trial,
inspired truth till all the inspiration is unfailing.
driven out, were all probably to be But the galleries of the catacombs are
heard and witnessed in the early Chris- not wholly occupied with graves. Now and
tian days at Rome. Not all the con- then they open on either side into cham
verts were saints,— and none of them bers ( cubicula ) of small dimension and
were such saints as the Catholic pain- of various form , scooped out of the rock,
ters of the last three centuries bave pros- and furnished with graves around their
tituted Art and debased Religion in sides ,—the burial-place arranged before
producing. The real St. Cecilia stood band for some large family, or for cer
in the beauty of holiness before the disci- tain persons buried with special honor.
ples at Rome far purer and lovelier than Other openings in the rock are design
Raphael has painted her. Domenichino ed for chapels, in which the burial and
has outraged every feeling of devotion, other services of the Church were per
every sense of truth, every sympathy for formed . These, too , are of various sizes
the true suffering of the women who were and forms; the largest of them would
cruelly murdered for their faith , in his hold but a small number of persons;
picture of the Martyrdom of St. Agnes. but not unfrequently two stand opposite
It is difficult to destroy the effect that has each other on the passage-way, as if one
been produced upon one's own heart by were for the men and the other for the
these and innumerable other pictures of women who should be present at the
declining Art,-pictures honored by the services. Entering the chapel through
Roman Church of to -day , —and to bring a narrow door whose threshold is on a
up before one's imagination, in vivid , level with the path, we see at the oppo
natural, and probable outline, the life and site side a recess sunk in the rock, often
form of the converts, saints, and martyrs semicircular, like the apsis of a church,
of the first centuries. If we could ban- and in this recess an arcosolium,—which
ish all remembrance of all the churches served at the same time as the grave of
and all the pictures contained in them, a martyr and as the altar of the little
built and painted since the fourteenth chapel. It seems, indeed , as if in many
century, we might hope to gain some cases the chapel had been formed not so
better view of the Christians who lived much for the general purpose of holding
above the catacombs, and were buried religious service within the catacombs, as
in them . It is from the catacombs that for that of celebrating worship over the
we must scck all that is left to enable us remains of the martyr whose body had
to construct the image that we desire. been transferred from its original grave
On other graves beside those of the to this new tomb. It was thus that
martyrs there are often found some little the custom , still prevalent in the Roman
signs by which they could be easily re- Church, of requiring that some relics shall
cognized by the friends who might wish to be contained within an altar before it is
visit them again. Sometimes there is the held to be consecrated, probably began.
impression of a seal upon the mortar ; Perhaps it was with some reference to
sometimes a ring or coin is left fastened * These chapels are generally about ten feet
into it ; often a terra - colla lamp is set in square. Some are larger, and a few smaller
the cement at the head of the grave. than this.
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 521

that portion of the Apocalypse in which serve the place of the credence table, for
St. John says, “ I saw under the altar the holding the articles used in the service
souls of them that were slain for the of the altar, and at a later period for
word of God, and for the testimony receiving the elements before they were
which they held. And they cried with handed to the priest for consecration.
a loud voice, saying, How long, O Lord, The earliest services in the catacombs
holy and true, dost thou not judge and were undoubtedly those connected with
avenge our blood on them that dwell on the communion of the Lord's Supper.
the earth ? And white robes were given The mystery of the mass and the puzzles
unto every one of them ; and it was said of transubstantiation had not yet been
unto them , that they should rest yet for introduced among the believers ; but all
a little season , until their fellow -servants who had received baptism as followers
also and their brethren that should be of Christ, all save those who had fallen
killed as they were should be fulfilled ." * away into open and manifest sin, were
At any rate , these words must have admitted to partake of the Lord's Supper.
dwelt in the memories of the Christians Possibly upon some occasions these chap
who came to worship God in the pres- els may have been filled with the sounds
ence of the dead by whom they were of exhortation and lamentation . In the
surrounded in the catacombs. But they legends of the Roman Church we read
knelt before the altar-tombs, not as before of large numbers of Christians being
altars consecrated with relics of saints, buried alive, in time of persecution, in
but as before altars dedicated to God these underground chambers where they
and connected with the memory of their had assembled for worship and for coun
own honored and beloved dead, whom sel. But we are not aware of any proof
he had called from them into his holy of the truth of these stories having been
presence. discovered in recent times. This, and
It is impossible to ascertain the date many other questionable points in the
at which these chapels were first made; history and in the uses of the catacombs,
probably some time about the middle of may be solved by the investigations
the second century they became com- wbich are now proceeding ; and it is for
mon. In many of the catacombs they tunate for the interests, not only of truth,
are very numerous, and it is in them that but of religion, that so learned and so
the chief ornaments and decorations, and honest-minded a man as the Cavaliere de
the paintings which give to the cata- Rossi should have the direction of these
combs an especial value and importance explorations.
in the history of Art, and which are Few of the chapels that are to be seen
among the most interesting illustrations now in the catacombs are in their origi
of the state of religious feeling and be- nal condition. As time went on, and
lief in the early centuries, are found . Christianity became a corrupt and impe
Soine of the chapels are known to be of rial religion, the simple truths which had
comparatively late date, of the fourth and sufficed for the first Christians were suc
perhaps of the fifth century. In several ceeded by doctrines less plain, but more
even of earlier construction is found, adapted to touch cold and materialized
in addition to the altar, a niche cut out imaginations, and to inflame dull hearts.
in the rok, or a ledge projecting from it, The worship of saints began, and was
which seems to have been intended to promoted by the heads of the Church,
who soon saw how it might be diverted
* Reveliitions, vi . 9-11 . It seems probable to the purposes of personal and ecclesi
that another custom of the Roman Church
took its rise in the catacombs, -that of burn
astical agyrandizement. Consequently
ing canlles on the altar; a custom simple in the martyrs were made into aa lierarchy
its origin , now turned into a forin of sipersii of saintly protectors of the strayed flock
tion, and often abused to the profit of priests. of Christ, and round their graves in the
522 The Catacombs of Rome. [March,
catacombs sprang up a harvest of tales, Popes. But no large number of persons
of visions, of miracles, and of supersti- could have existed within them . The
tions. As the Church sank lower and closeness of the air would very soon have
lower, as the need of a Leavenly advo- rendered life insupportable ; and suppos
cate with God was more and more im- ing any considerable number had col
pressed upon the minds of the Christians lected near the outlet, where a supply of
of those days, the idea seems to have fresh air could have reached them , the
arisen that neighborhood of burial to difficulty of obtaining food and of con
the grave of some martyr might be an cealing their place of retreat would have
effectual way to secure the felicity of the been in most instances insurmountable .
soul. Consequently we find in these The catacombs were always places for
chapels that the later Christians, those the few , not for the many ; for the few
perhaps of the fifth and sixth centuries, who followed a body to the grave ; for
disregarding the original arrangements, the few who dug the narrow , dark pas
and having lost all respect for the Art, sages in which not many could work ; for
and all reverence for the memorial pic- the few who came to supply the needs
tures which made the walls precious, of some hunted and hidden friend ; for
were often accustomed to cut out graves the few who in better times assembled to
in the walls above and around the mar- join in the service commemorating the
tyr's tomb, and as near as possible to it. last supper of their Lord.
The instances are numerous in which It is difficult, as we have said before,
pictures of the highest interest have been to clear away the obscuring fictions of the
thus ruthlessly defaced. No sacredness Roman Church from the entrance of the
of subject could resist the force of the catacoinbs ; but doing this so far as with
superstition ; and we remember one in- our present knowledge may be done, we
stance where, in a picture of which the find ourselves entering upon paths that
part that remains.is of peculiar interest, bring us into near connection and neigh
the body of the Good Shepherd has borhood with the first followers of the
been cut through for the grave of a founders of our faith at Rome. The
child , -so that only the feet and a part reality which is given to the lives of the
of the head of the figure remain . Christians of the first centuries by ac
There is little reason for supposing, as
quaintance with the memorials that they
has frequently been done, that the cata- have left of themselves here quickens
combs, even in times of persecution, our feeling for them into one almost of
afforded shelter to any large body of personal sympathy. “Your obedience
the faithful. Single, specially obnoxious, is come abroad unto all men,” wrote St.
or timid individuals, undoubtedly, from Paul to the first Christians of Rome.
time to time, took refuge in them , and The record of that obedience is in the
may have remained within them for a catacombs. And in the vast labyrinth
considerable period. Such at least is the of obscure galleries one beholds and
story, which we see no reason to ques- enters into the spirit of the first followers
tion, in regard to several of the early of the Apostle to the Gentiles.
(To be continued.)
1858.] The Nest. 523

THE NEST.

MAY.

Whey oaken woods with buds are pink ,

And new -come birds each morning sing, -
When fickle May ou Summer's brink
Pauses, and knows not which to fling,
Whether fresh bud and bloom again,
Or hoar- frost silvering hill and plain, -
Then from the honeysuckle gray
The oriole with experienced quest
Twitches the fibrous bark away,
The cordage of his bammock -nest,
Cheering his labor with a note
Rich as the orange of his throat.
High o'er the loud and dusty road
The soft gray cup in safety swings,
To brim ere August with its load
Of downy breasts and throbbing wings,
O'er which the friendly elm - tree heaves
An emerald roof' with sculptured caves.

Below, the noisy World drags by

In the old way, because it must ,
The bride with trouble in her eye,
The mourner following hated dust :
Thy duty, winged flame of Spring,
Is but to love and fly and sing.

Oh, happy life, to soar and sway

Above the life by mortals led,
Singing the merry months away,
Master, not slave of daily bread ,
And, when the Autumn comes, to flee
Wherever sunshine beckons thee !

PALINODE . - DECEMBER.

Like some lorn abbey now, the wood

Stands roofless in the bitter air ;
In ruins on its floor is strewed
The carven foliage quaint and rare,
And homeless winds complain along
The columned choir once thrilled with song.
524 Eben Jackson . [ March,
And thou, dear nest, whence joy and praise
The thankful oriole used to pour,
Swing'st empty while the north winds chase
Their snowy swarms from Labrador:
But, loyal to the happy past,
I love thee still for what thou wast.

Ah, when the Summer graces flee

From other nests more dear than thou,
And, where June crowded once, I see
Only bare trunk and disleaved bough,
When springs of life that gleamed and gushed
Run chilled, and slower, and are hushed , -
I'll think, that, like the birds of Spring,
Our good goes not without repair,
But only flies to soar and sing
Far off in some diviner air,
Where we shall find it in the calms
Of that fair garden 'neath the palms.

EBEN JACKSON.

Fear no more the heat of the sun,

Nor the furious winter's rages ;
Thou thine earthly task hast done.

The large tropical moon rose in full pony's head from the beach, and, loiter
majesty over the Gulf of Mexico, that ing through the city's hot streets, touch
beneath it rolled a weltering surge of ed him into a gallop as the prairie opened
silver, which broke upon the level sand before us, and followed the preternatural,
of the beach with a low, sullen roar, colossal shadow of horse and man cast
prophetic of storms to come. To-night by the moon across the dry dull grass
a south wind was heavily blowing over and bitter yellow chamomile growth of
Gulf and prairie, laden with salt odors the sand , till I stopped at the office door
of weed and grass, now and then crossed of the Hospital, when, consigning my
by a strain of such perfume as only tropic horse to a servant, I commenced my
breezes know,-a breath of heavy, pas- nightly round of the wards.
sionate sweetness from orange- groves and There were but few patients just now ,
rose-gardens, mixed with the miasmatic for the fever had not yet made its ap
sighs of rank forests, and mile on mile pearance, and until within a week the
of tangled cane-brake, where jewel-tinted unwontedly clear and cool atmosphere
snakes glitter and emit their own sickly- had done the work of the physician.
sweet odor, and the deep blue bells of Most of the sick were doing well enough
luxuriant vines wave from their dusky without me ; some few needed and re
censers steams of poisonous incense. ceived attention ; and these disposed of,
I endured the influence of all this as I betook myself to the last bed in one of
long as I dared, and then turned my the long wards, quite apart from the oth
1858.] Eben Jackson . 525

ers, which was occupied by a sailor, a without guile. — But it is best to let him
man originally from New England, whose speak for himself. I found him that
hard life and continual exposure to all night very feverish, yet not wild at all.
66
climates and weathers had at length re- Hullo, Doctor ! ” said he, “ I'm all
sulted in slow tubercular consumption. afire ! I've ben thinkin' about my old
It was one of the rare cases of this mother's humstead up to Simsbury, and
disease not supervening upon an origi- the great big well to the back door ; how •
nal strumous diathesis, and, had it been I used to tilt that ’are sweep up, of a hot
properly cared for in the beginning, day, till the bucket went 'way down to
might have been cured . Now there was the bottom and come up drippin' over,
no hope ; but the case being a peculiar such cold, clear water ! I swear, I'd give
and interesting one, I kept a faithful all Madagascar for a drink on't ! ”
record of its symptoms and progress for I called the nurse to bring me a small
publication. Besides, I liked the man ; basket of oranges I had sent out in the
rugged and hardy by nature, it was cu- morning, expressly for this patient, and
rious to see what strange effects a long, squeezing the juice from one of them on
wasting, and painful disease produced a little bit of ice, I held it to his lips, and
upon him. At first he could not be per he drank eagerly.
suaded to be quiet ; the muscular ener- “ That's better for you than water,
gies were still unaſſected, and, with con- Jackson ,” said I.
tinual hemorrhage from the lungs, he “ I dunno but 'tis, Doctor ; I dunno
could not understand that work or exer- but ' tis ; but there a'n't nothin ' goes
cisc could hurt him. But as the disease to the spot like that Simsbury water.
gained ground , its characteristic languor You ha'n't never v'yaged to them parts,
unstrung his force ; the hard and sinewy have ye ? ”
limbs became attenuated and relaxed ; " Bless you, yes, man ! I was born
his breath labored ; a hectic fever burnt and brought up in Hartford , just over
in his veins like light flame every after- the mountain , and I've been to Simsbury,
noon , and subsided into chilly languor to fishing, many a time.”
ward morning ; profuse night-sweats in- “ Good Lord ! You don't never desert
creased the weakness ; and as he grew a feller, ef the ship is a - goin ' down ! "
feebler, offering of course less resistance fervently ejaculated Eben, looking up as
to the febrile symptoms, they were ex- he did sometimes in his brief delirium ,
acerbated, till at times a slight deliriumn when he said the Lord's Prayer, and
showed itself; and so, without haste or thought his mother held his folded hands;
delay, he “ made for port,” as he said . but this was no delirious aspiration . He
His name was Eben Jackson, and the went on :
homely appellation was no way belied by “ You see , Doctor, I've had somethin'in
his aspect. He never could have been the hold a good spell 't I wanted to break
handsome, and now fifteen years of rough- bulk on, but I didn't know as I ever
and -tumble life had left their stains and was goin' to see a shipmet agin ; and
scars on his weather-beaten visage, whose now you've jined convoy jist in time,
only notable features were the deep -set for Davy Jones's a'n't fur off. Are you
eyes retreating under shaggy brows, that calculatin' to go North afore long ? ”
looked one through and through with the “ Yes, I mean to go next spring," said I.
keen glance of honest instinct; while Jackson began to fumble with weak
a light tattooing of red and blue on and trembling hands about his throat, to
either cheek - bone added an element of undo his shirt-collar,—he would not let
the grotesque to his homeliness. He was me help him ,-and presently, Aushed
a natural and simple man, with whom and panting from the effort, he drew
out a length of delicate Panama chain
conventionalities and the world's scale
went for nothing, - without vanity as fastened rudely together by a link of
526 Eben Jackson . [March,
copper wire, and suspended on it a little Buel's ; you'll see't when you go there ;
old -fashioned ring of reddish gold, twisted but there a’n't nobody there now. Moth
of two wires, and holding a very small er died afore I come away, and lies safe
dark garnet. Jackson looked at it as to the leeward o' Simsbury meetin '-house.
I have seen many a Catholic look at his Father he got a stroke a spell back, and
reliquary in mortal sickness. he couldn't farm it ; so he sold out and
“ Well, ” said he, “ I've carried that went West, to Parmely Larkum's, my
'are gimcrack nigh twenty long year sister's, to live. But I guess the house is
round my old scrag, and when I'm sunk there, and that old well. — How etarnal
I want you to take it off, Doctor. Keep hot it's growin '! Doctor, give me a
it safe till you go to Connecticut, and drink !
then some day take a tack over to Sims- "66 Well, as I was tellin', I lived there
bury. Don't ye go through the Gap, but next to Miss Buel's, and Hetty'n' I went
go 'long out on the 'turnpike over the to deestrict-school together, up to the
mountain , and down t'other side to Avon, cross-roads. We used to hev' ovens in
and so nor’ard till jist arter you git the sand together, and roast apples an'
into Simsbury town you see an old red cars of corn in 'em ; and we used to build
bouse 'longside o' the mountain, with a cubby-houses, and fix 'em out with bro
big ellum -tree afore the door, and a stone ken chiny and posies. I swan 't makes
well to the side on't. Go 'long in and me feel curus when I think what children
ask for Hetty Buel, and give her that du contrive to get pleased, and likewise
'are thing, and tell her where you got it riled about ! One day I rec'lect Hetty'd
and that I ha’n't never forgot to wish her stepped onto my biggest clam -shell and
well allus, though I couldn't write to her.” broke it, and I up and hit her a switch
There was Eben Jackson's romance ! right across her pretty lips. Now you'd
It piqued my curiosity. The poor fellow 'a ' thought she would cry and run , for
was wakeful and restless, -I knew he she wasn't bigger than a baby, much ;
would not sleep, if I left him ,—and I but she jest come up and put her little
encouraged him to go on talking. fat arms round my neck, and says,-
“ I will , Jackson, I promise you. But “ • I'm so sorry, Eben ! '
wouldn't it be better for you to tell me “ And that's Hetty Buel ! I declare
something about where you have been I was beat, and I hav'n't never got over
all these long years ? Your friends will bein ' beat about that. So we growed
like to know .” up together, always out in the woods
His eye brightened ; he was like all between schools, huntin' checker -berries,
the rest of us, pleased with any interest and young winter-greens, and prince's pi
taken in him and his; he turned over on ney, and huckleberries, and saxifrax, and
his pillow, and I lifted him into a half- birch, and all them woodsy things that
sitting position . children hanker arter ; and by -in -by we
" That's ship -shape, Doctor ! I don't got to goin' to the 'Cademy ; and when
know but what I had oughter spin a yarn Hetty was seventeen she went in to Hart
for you ; I'm kinder on a watch to-night ; ford to her Aunt Smith's for a spell, to do
and Hetty won't never know what I did chores, and get a little Seminary larnin ',
do, if I don't send home the log 'long 'ï and I went to work on the farm ; and
the cargo. when she come home, two year arter,
“ Well, you see I was born in them she was growed to be a young woman,
parts, down to Canton, where father be- and though I was five year older'n her, I
longed ; but mother was a Simsbury wo- was as sheepish a land - lubber as ever
man, and afore I was long- togged, father got stuck a -goin' to the mast -head, when
he moved onter the old humstead up toever I sighted her.
Simsbury, when gran’ther Peok died. She wasn't very much for looks nei
Our farm was right 'longside o' Miss ther ; she had black eyes, and she was
1858.] Eben Jackson . 527

pretty behaved ; but she wasn't no gret brier by the winder all a - flowered out ;
for beauty, anyhow , only I thought the and the drippin ' little beads of dew on
world of her, and so did her old grand- the clover-heads ; and the tinklin ' sound
mother ; -— for her mother died when she of the mill -dam down to Squire Turner's
wa'n't but two year old, and she lived mill.
to old Miss Buel's 'cause her father had “ I set down by Hetty ; and the old
married agin away down to Jersey. woman bein ' as deaf as a post, it was as
“ Arter a spell I got over bein ' so good as if I'd been there alone. So I
mighty sheepish about Hetty ; her ways mustered up my courage, that was sinkin '
was too kindly for me to keep on that down to my boots, and told Hetty my
tack. We took to goin' to singin '-school plans, and asked her to go along. She
together ; then I always come home from never said nothin ' for a minute ; she
quiltin '-parties and conference-meetin's flushed all up as red as a rose, and I see
with her, because 'twas handy, bein' right her little fingers was shakin', and her
next door ; and so it come about that eye -winkers shiny and wet ; but she spoke
I begun to think of settlin' down for life, presently, and said , -
and that was the start of all my troubles. « • I can't, Eben ! '
66

I couldn't take the home farm ; for 'twas “ I was shot betwixt wind and water
such poor land, father could only jest then, I tell you, Doctor ! ' Twa’n't much
make a live out on't for him and me. to be said, but I've allers noticed afloat
Most of it was pastur', gravelly land, full that real dangersome squalls comes on
of mullens and stones ; the rest was prin- still; there's aa dumb kind of a time in the
cipally woodsy ,—not hickory, nor oak nei- air, the storm seems to be waitin' and
ther, but hemlock and white birches, that holdin' its breath, and then a little low
a’n’t of no account for timber nor firing whisper of wind ,-a cat's paw we call 't,
'longside of the other trees. There was a -and then you get it real 'arnest. I'd
little strip of a mediler- lot, and an orchard rather she'd have taken on, and cried,
up on the mountain, where we used to and scolded, than have said so still, ‘ I
make redstreak cider that beatthe Dutch ; can't, Eben .'
but we hadn't pastur' land enough to « • Why not, Hetty ? ' says I.
keep more'n two cows, and altogether I « • I ought not to leave grandmother,'
knew ' twasn't any use to think of bring said she.
in' aa family on to't. So I wrote to Par- “ I declare, I hadn't thought o' that!
6

mely's husbanil, out West, to know about
Government lands, and what I could do
ef I was to move out there and take an
allotment; and gettin' an answer every
way favorable, I posted over to Miss
Buel's one night arter milkin ' to tell Het-
ty. She was settin ' on the south door-step, and see to the hens and cows, as she
brailin ' palm -lcat; and her grandmother
was knittin ' in her old chair, a little back
by the win.low . Sometimes, a -lyin' here
on ny back, with my head full o' sounds,
anıl the hot wind and the salt sca -smell
a -comin ' in through the winders, and the
poor tellers groanin' overhead, I get clear
away back to that night, so cool and
sweet ; the air full of treely smells, dead
leaves like, and white -blows in the ma'sh
below ; and woodl -robins singin ' clear fine
whistles in the woods; and the big sweet-
Miss Buel was a real infirm woman with
out kith nor kin, exceptin' Hetty ; for Jar
son Buel he'd died down to Jersey long
before ; and she hadn't means. Hetty
nigh about kept 'em both since Miss Buel
had grown too rheumatic to make cheese
used to . They didn't keep any men -folks
now, por but one cow ; Hetty milked her,
and drove her to pastur', and fed the
chickens, and braided hats, and did
chores. The farm was all sold off'; 'twas
poor land , and didn't fetch much ; but
what there was went to keep 'em in vit
tles and firin '. I guess Hetty 'arnt most
of what they lived on, arter all.
• Well,' says I, after a spell of think
in', ' can't she go along too, Hetty ? '
" • Oh, no, Eben ! she's too old ; she
6
528 Eben Jackson . [March,
never could get there, and she never my shoulder, and tramped off. I couldn't
could live there. She says very often have gone without biddin' Hetty good
she wouldn't leave Simsbury for gold un- bye ; so I stopped there, and told her
told ; she was born here, and she's bound what I was up to, and charged her to tell
to die here. I know she wouldn't go.' father.
“ * Ask her, Hetty ! ' “ She tried her best to keep me to home,
No, it wouldn't be any use i; it would but I was sot in my way ; so when she
only fret her always to think I staid at found that out, she run up stairs an' got
home for her, and you know she can't do a little Bible, and made me promise I'd
without me.'
666
read it sometimes, and then she pulled
No more can't I,' says I. 6• Do you that ’are little ring off her finger and
love her the best, Hetty ? ' give it to me to keep.
“ I was kinder sorry I'd said that ; for « • Eben ,' says she, “ I wish you well
she grew real white, and I could see by always, and I sha'n't never forget you ! '
her throat she was chokin' to keep down “ And then she put up her face to me,
somethin '. Finally she said, - as innocent as a baby, to kiss me good
“ • That isn't for me to say, Eben . If it bye. I see she choked up when I said
was right for me to go with you, I should the word , though, and I said , kinder
be glad to ; but you know I can't leave laughin', 666
grandmother.' " I hope you'll get a better husband
“ Well, Doctor, I couldn't say no more . than me, Hetty !'
I got up to go. Hetty put down her “ I swear ! she give me a look like the
work and walked to the big ellum by the judgment-day, and stoopin' down she
gate with me. I was most too full to pressed her lips onto that ring, and says
speak , but I catched her up and kissed she, “ That is my weddin ’-ring, Eben !'
her soft little tremblin ' lips, and her and goes into the house as still and white
pretty eyes, and then I set off for home as a ghost; and I never see her again,
as if I was goin' to be hanged. nor never shall.—Oh, Doctor ! give me a
“ Young folks is obstreperous, Doctor. drink ! ”
I've been a long spell away from Hetty, I lifted the poor fellow , fevered and
and I don't know as I should take on so gasping, to an easier position , and wet his
now. That night I never slept. I lay bot lips with fresh orange-juice.
kickin' and tumblin ' all night, and before Stop, now, Jackson !” said I, “ you
mornin ' I'd resolved to quit Simsbury, are tired .”
and go seek my fortin ' beyond seas, “No, I a'n't, Doctor ! No, I a'n't ! I'm
hopin' to come back to Hetty , arter all, bound to finish now . But Lord deliver
with riches to take care on her right us ! look there ! one of the Devil's own
there in the old place . You'd ' a ' thought imps, I b’lieve ! ”
I might have had some kind of feelin ' I looked on the little deal stand where
for my old father, after seein ' Hetty's I had set the candle , and there stood one
faithful ways ; but I was a man and she of the quaint, evil-looking insects that in
was a woman , and I take it them is two fest the island , a praying Mantis. Raised
different kind o' craft. Men is allers for up against the candle , with its fore- legs
themselves first, an' Devil take the hind- in the attitude of supplication that gives
most ; but women lives in other folks's it the name , its long green body relieved
lives, and ache, and work , and endure all on the white stearin , it was eyeing Jack
sorts of stress o weather afore they'll son , with its head turned first on one side
quit the ship that's got crew and passen- and then on the other , in the most elvish
gers aboard . and preternatural way. Presently it
“ I never said nothin' to father, I moved upward, stuck one of its fore-legs
couldn't ' a' stood no jawin ', - but I made cautiously into the fame, burnt it of
up my kit, an' next night slung it over course and drew it back, eyed it, first
1858.] Eben Jackson . 529

from one angle, then from another, with when I come down, ' cause I'd never
deliberate investigation ,and at length con- sighted a whale till arter they see'd it on
veyed the injured member to its mouth deck.
and sucked it steadily, resuming its stare “ We was bound to the South Seas after
of blank scrutiny at my patient, who did sperm whales, but we was eight months
not at all fancy the interest taken in him . gettin' there, and we took sech as we
I could not help laughing at the strange could find on the way . The cap'en he
mancuvres of the creature , familiar as I scooted round into one port an'another
was with tbem. arter his own business, - down to Carac
“ It is only one of our Texan bugs, cas, into Rio ; and when we'd rounded the
Jackson,” said I ; “ it is harmless enough.” Horn and was nigh about dead of cold
“It's got a pesky look, though, Doctor! an' short rations, and badn't killed but
I thought I'd seen enough curus creturs three whales, we put into Valparaiso to
in the Marquesas, but that beats all ! ” get vittled , and there I laid hold o' this
Seeing the insect really irritated and little trinket of a chain, and spliced Het
annoyed him , I put it out of the window , ty’s ring on to't, lest I should be stranded
and turned the blinds closely to prevent somewheres and get rid of it onawares.
its reëntrance, and he went on with his “ We cruised about in them seas a good
story. year or more, with poor luck, and the
“ So I tramped it to Hartford that cap'en growin' more and more outrageous
night, got a lodgin' with a first cousin I continually. Them waters aren't like the
had there, worked my passage to Boston Gulf, Doctor, —nor like the Northern
in a coaster, and after hangin ' about Ocean, nohow ; there a’n't no choppin'
Long Wharf day in and day out for a seas there, but a great, long, everlastin',
week, I was driv to ship myself aboard lazy swell, that goes rollin ' and fallin '
of a whaler, the Lowisy Miles, Twist, away like the toll of a big bell, in endless
cap'en ; and I writ from there to Hetty, blue rollers ; and the trades blow through
so't she could know my bearin's so fur, the sails like singin ', as warm and soft as
and tell my father. if they blowed right out o' sunshiny gar
“ It would take a week, Doctor, to tell dens ; and the sky's as blue as summer
you what aa rough -an ’-tumble time I had all the time, only jest round the dip on't
on that 'are whaler. There's a feller's there's allers a hull fleet o' hazy round
writ a book about v'yagin' afore the mast topped clouds, so thin you can see the
that'll give ye an idee on't; he had an ed- moon rise through ' em ; and the waves go
dication so't he could set it off, and I fell ripplin' off the cut-water as peaceful as a
' foul of his book down to Valparaiso more'n mill-pond, day and night. Squalls is
a year back, and I swear I wanted to sca'ce some times o' the year ; but when
shake hands with him. I heerd he was there is one, I tell you a feller hears thun
gone ashore somewheres down to Boston , der ! The clouds settle right down onto
and hed cast anchor for good. But I tell the mast-head, black and thick, like the
you he's a brick, and what he said's gos- settlin's of an ink -bottle; the lightnin'
pel truth . I thought I'd got to hell afore hisses an' cuts fore and aft ; and corpo
my time when we see blue water. I sants come flightin' down onto the boom
didn't have no peace exceptin' times or the top, gret balls o' light; and the wind
when I was to the top, lookin ' out for roars louder than the seas ; and the rain
spouters; then I'd get nigh about into the comes down in spouts,-it don't fall fur
clouds that was allers a -hangin' down enough to drop ; you'd think heaven and
close to the sea mornin ' and night, all earth was come together, with hell be
kinds of colors, red an' purple an' white ; twixt 'em ;-and then it'll all clear up as
and 'stead of thinkin 'o’ whales, I'd get my quiet and calm as a Simsbury Sunday ;
head full o’ Simsbury, and get a precious and you wouldn't know it could be
knock with the butt end of a handspike squally, if 'twan't for the sail that you
VOL. I. 34
530 Eben Jackson. [March,
hadn't had a chance to furl was drove to and when the Lord above calls all bands
ribbons, and here an' there a stout spar on deck to pass muster, ef I'm ship -shape
snapped like a cornstalk , or the bulwarks afore him , it'll be because I follered his
stove by a heavy sea. There's queer signals and l'arnt ' em out of that ' are
things to be heerd, too, in them parts: log. But I didn't foller 'em then, nor
cries to wind'ard like a drowndin ' man , not for a plaguy long cruise yet !
and you can't never find him ; noises “ One day, as I laid there readin' by
right under the keel ; bells ringin' off the light of a bit of tallow dip the mate
the land like, when you a’n't within five gave me , who should stick his head into
hundred miles of shore ; and curus hails the hole he called a cabin, but old Twist !
out o' ghost-ships that sails agin' wind an' He'd got an idee I was shammin' ; and
tide . - Strange ! strange ! I declare fort! when he saw me with a book, he cussed,
seems as though I heerd my old mother and swore, and raved, and finally hauled
a -singin' Mear now ! ” it out o' my hand and flung it up through
I saw Jackson was getting excited , so the hatchway clean and clear overboard.
I gave him aa little soothing draught and “ I tell ye, Doctor, if I'd 'a' bad a sound
walked away to give the nurse some arm , he'd ' a' gone after it ; but I had to
orders. But he made me promise to re- take it out in ratin ' at him, and that
turn and hear the story out ; so , after night my mind was made up ; I was
half an hour's investigation of the wards,
bound to desart at the first land. And it
I came back and found him composed come about that a fortnight after my arm
enough to permit bis resuming where he had jined, and I could haul shrouds agin,
had left off. we sighted the Marquesas, and bein' near
“ Howsomever, Doctor, there wa'n't no about out o ’ water, the cap'en laid his
smooth sailin ' nor fair weather with the course for the nearest land, and by day
cap’en ; 'twas always squally in his break of the second day we lay to in a
latitude, and I begun to get mutinous small harbor, on the south side of an
and think of desartin '. About eighteen island where ships wa’n't very prompt to
months arter we sot sail from Valparaiso, go commonly. But old Twist didn't care
I hadn't done somethin ' I'd been ordered, for cannibals nor wild beasts, when they
or I'd done it wrong, and Cap'en Twist stood in his way ; and there wasn't but
come on deck, ragin' and roarin ', with a half a cask of water aboard , and that a
handspike in his fist, and let fly at my hog wouldn't ’a' drank, only for the name
head. I see what was comin ', and put on't. So we pulled ashore after some,
my arm up to fend it off ; and gettin' the and findin ' a spring near by, was takin' it
blow on my fore-arm , it got broke acrost out, hand over hand, as fast as we could
as quick as a wink, and I dropped. So bale it up, when all of a sudden the mate
they picked me up, and havin ' a mate see a bunch of feathers over a little bush
aboard who knew some doctorin ', I was near by, and yelled out to run for our
spliced and bound up, and put under lives, the savages was come.
hatches on the sick-list. I tell you I was “ Now I had made up my mind to run
dog-tired them days, lyin' in my berth, away from the ship that very day, and
hearin ' the rats and mice scuttle round all the while I'd been baling the water
the bulkheads and skitter over the floor. up I had been tryin' to lay my course so
I couldn't do nothin ', and finally I be- as to get quit of the boat's crew , and be
thought myself of Hetty's Bible and con- off ; but natur' is stronger than a man
trived to get it out o' my chist, — and thinks. When I heerd the mate sing out,
when I could get a bit of a glim I'd read and see the men begin to run , I turned
it. I'm a master- hand to remember and run too, full speed, down to the
things, and what I read over and over in shore ; but my foot caught in some root
that 'are dog- bole of cabin never got or hole, I fell flat down, and hittin ' my
clean out of my head, no, nor never will; head ag'inst a stone near by, I lay as
1858.] Eben Jackson . 531

good as dead ; and when I come to, the the savages took to me mightily. I was
boat was gone, and the ship makin' all allers handy with tools, and by good luck
sail out of harbor, and a crew of wild I'd come off with two jack -knives and a
Indian women were a -lookin ' at me as loose awl in my jacket-pocket, so I could
I've seen a set of Sinsbury women -folks beat 'em all at whittlin' ; and I made fig
look at a baboon in a caravan ; but they gers on their bows an ’ pipe-stems, of
treated me better ! things they never see , - roosters, and
“ Findin'I was helpless, for I'd sprained horses, Miss Buel's old sleigh , and the
my ankle in the fall, four of 'em picked Albany stage, driver'n ' all, and our yoke
me up, and carried me away to a hut, of oxen a -ploughin ', — till nothin' would
and tended me like a baby ;1 and when serve them but I should have a house o '
the men, who'd come over to that side my own, and be married to their king's
of the island 'long with 'em, and gone daughter ; so I did.
a - fishin ', come back , I was safe enough ; Well, Doctor, you kinder wonder
for women are women all the world over, I forgot Hetty Buel. I didn't forget her,
soft- hearted , kindly creturs, that like any- but I knew she wa'n't to be had anyhow ;
thing that's in trouble, 'specially if they I thought I was in for life; and W'ailua
can give it a lift out on't. So I was was the prettiest little craft that ever you
nursed , and fed , and finally taken over set eyes on, as straight as a spar, and as
the ridge of rocks that run acrost the kindly as a Christian ; and besides, I had
island to their town of bamboo huts ; and to, or I'd have been killed , and broiled,
now begun to look about me, for here I and caten , whether or no ! And then
was, stranded , as one may say, out o' in that ’are latitude it a'n't just the way
sight o' land. ' tis here ; you don't work ; you get easy ,
Ships didn't never touch there, I and lazy, and sleepy ; somethin ' in the
knew by their ways, their wonderin ' and air kind of hushes you up ; it makes you
takin ' sights at me. As for Cap'en sweat to think, and you're too hazy to, if
Twist, he wouldn't come back for his it didn't ; and you don't care for nothing
own father, unless he was short o' hands much but food and drink. I hadn't no
spunk left ; so I married her after their
for whalin '. I was in for life, no doubt
on't ; and I'd better look at the fair- fashion, and I liked her well enough ; and
weather side of the thing. The island she was my wife, after all.
was as pretty a bit of land as ever lay “ I tell ye, Doctor, it goes a gret
betwixt sea and sky ; full of tall cocoa- way with men -folks to think anything's
nut palms, with broad, feathery tops, and their'n, and nobody else's. But when I
bunches of brown nuts; bananas hung married her, I took the chain with Hetty
in yellow clumps ready to drop off at a Buel's ring off my neck, and put 'em in
touch ; and big bread - fruit trees stood a shell, and buried the shell under my
about everywhere, lookin' as though a doorway. I couldn't have Wailua touch
punkin -vine had climbed up into 'em that.
and hung half-ripe punkins off of every “ So there I lived fifteen long year, as
bough ; beside lots of other trees that it might be, in a kind of a curus dream ,
the natives set great store by, and live doin 'nothin' much, only that when I got
on the fruit of 'em ; and flyin ' through to know the tongue them savages spoke,
all, such pretty birds as you never see little by little I got pretty much the
except in them parts; but one brown steerin' o' the hull crew, till by-'n '-by
thrasher'd beat the whole on ' em singin '; some of 'em got jealous, and plotted and
fact is, they run to feathers; they don't planned to kill me, because the king,
sing none. Wailua's father, was gettin' old, and they
“ It was as sightly a country as ever thought I wanted to be king when he
Adam and Eve had to themselves ; but it died, and they couldn't stan ' that no
wa’n’t home. Howsomever, after a while way.
532 Eben Jackson . [March ,
“ Somehow or other Wailua got word for goin' round the Horn in the Lemon ,
of what was goin' on, and one night she that ’are English ship, — I'd ben on
woke me out of sleep an' told me I must duty in all sorts o' weather ; and I'd lived
run for't, and she would hide me safe lazy and warm so long I expect it was
till things took a turn. So I scratched up too tough for me, and I was pestered with
the shell with Hetty's ring in't, and afore a hard cough, and spit blood, so't I was
morning I was over t’other side of the laid up a long spell in the hospital at
island , in a kind of a cave overlookin ' the Havana. And there I kep' a -thinkin '
sea, near by to a grove of bananas and over Hetty's Bible, and I b'lieve I studied
mammee apples, and not fur from the har- that 'are chart till I found out the way
bor where I'd landed ; and safe enough, to port, and made up my log all square
for nobody but Wailua knew the way to't.for the owner ; for I knowed well enough
“Well, the sixth day I sot in the port where I was bound ; but I did hanker to
hole of that cave I see a sail in the off- get home to Simsbury afore shovin' off.
ing. I declare, I thought I should ' a' “ Well, finally, there come into the
choked ! I catched off my tappa cloth harbor a Mystic ship that was a -goin'
and h'isted it on a pde, but the ship kep' down the Gulf for a New York owner.
on stiddy out to sea . My heart beat up I'd known Seth Crane, the cap'en of her,
to my eyes, but I held on ag’inst hope, away back in old Simsbury times. He
and I declare I prayed ; words come to was an Avon boy ; and when I sighted
me that I hadn't said since I was a boy that vessel's name, as I was crawlin' along
to Simsbury, and the Lord he heerd ; the quay one day, and, secin ' she was
for, as true as the compass, that ship lay Connecticut-built, boarded her, and see
to, tacked , put in for the island, and Seth, I was old fool enough to cry right
afore night I was aboard of the Ly- out,, I was so shaky. And Seth he was
sander, a Salem whaler, with my mouth about as scart as ef he'd seen the dead,
full of grog and ship -biscuit, and my havin' heerd up to Avon, fifteen year
body in civilized toggery . I own I felt ago nearly, that the Lowisy Miles had
queer to go away so and leave Wailua ; been run down off the Sandwich Islands
but I knew 'twas gettin' her out of dan- by a British man -of-war, and all hands
ger, for the old king was just a -goin' to lost, exceptin ' one o'the boys. However,
die, and if ever I'd have gone back, we he come to his bearin's after a while, and
should both have been murdered. Be- told me about our folks, and how't Het
sides, we didn't always agree; she had ty Buel wasn't married, but keepin' dees
to walk straighter than her wild natur' trict school, and her old grandmother
agreed with, because she was my wife ; alive yet
and we hadn't no children to hold us to “Well, I kinder heartened up, and
gether; and I couldn't ’ a' taken her aboard agreed to take passage with Seth. — Good
of the whaler, if she'd wanted to go. I Lord, Doctor ! what's that ? ”
guess it was best; anyhow, so it was. A peculiar and oppressive stillness had
“ But this wasn't to be the end of my settled down on everything in and out
v'yagin'. The Lysander foundered just of the hospital while Jackson was going
off Valparaiso ; and though all hands was on with his story. I noticed it only as
saved in the boats, when we got to port the hush of a tropic midnight ; but as he
there wasn't no craft there bound any spoke, I heard — apparently out on the
nearer homeward than an English mer- prairie - a heavy jarring sound like re
chant-ship, for Liverpool, by way of Ma peated blows,drawing nearer and nearer
deira. So I worked a passage to Fun- the building.
chal, and there I got aboard of a South- Jackson sprung upright on his pillows,
ampton steamer, bound for Cuba, that the hectic passed from either gaunt and
put in for coal. But when I come to sallow cheek, leaving the red and blue
Havana I was nigh about tuckered out ; tattoo marks visible in most ghastly dis
1858.] Eben Jackson . 533

tinctness, while the sweat poured in drops tacked them , and it was broad day be
down his bollow temples. fore composure or stillness was regain
The noise drew still nearer . All the ed in any part of the building except my
patients in the ward awoke and quitted own rooms, to which I betook myself as
their beds, hastily. The noise was at soon as possible, and slept till sunrise, too
hand,-blows of great violence and pow- soundly for any mystical visitation what
er ; and a certain malign rapidity shook ever to have disturbed my rest.
the walls from one end of the hospital to The next day, in spite of the brief
the other, - blow upon blow, like the influence of the Norther, the first case of
ficrce attacks of a catapult, only with no yellow fever showed itself in the hospital;
like result. The nurse, a German Cath- before night seven had sickened, and one,
olic, fell on his knees and told his beads, already reduced by chronic disease, died.
glancing over his shoulder in undisguised I had hoped to bury Jackson decently,
horror ; the patients cowered together in the cemetery of the city, where his
groaning and praying ; and I could hear vexed mortality might rest inpeace under
the stir and confusion in the ward below . the oleanders and china -trees, shut in by
In less than aa minute's space the singular the hedge of Cherokee roses that guards
sound passed through the house, and in the enclosure from the prairie, a living
hollow, jarring echoes died out toward wall of glassy green, strewn with ivory
the bay . white buds and blossoms, fair and pure ;
I looked at Eben ;-his jaw had fallen ; but on applying for a burial -spot, the city
his hands were rigid and locked together ; authorities, panic -stricken cowards that
his eyes were rolled upward, fixed and they were, denied me the privilege even
glassy ; a stream of scarlet blood trickled of a prairie grave, outside the cemetery
over his gray beard from the corner of hedge, for the poor fellow . In vain did
his mouth ; he was dead ! As I laid him I represent that he had died of linger
back on the pillow and turned to restore ing disease, and that nowise contagious ;
some quiet to the ward, a Norther came nothing moved them . It was enough
sweeping down the Gulf like a rush of that there was yellow fever in the ward
mad spirits; tore up the white crests of where he died. I was forthwith strictly
the sea and flung them on the beach in ordered to have all the dead from the
thundering surf; burst through the heavy hospital buried on the sand - flats at the
fog that had trailed upon the moon's track cast end the island .
and smothered the island in its soft pesti- What a place that is it is scarcely pos
lent brooding ; and in one mighty pouring sible to describe. Wide and dreary
out of cold pure ether changed earth and levels of sand, some four or five feet
sky from torrid to temperate zone. lower than the town, and flooded by high
Vainly did I endeavor to calm the ter- tides ; the only vegetation a scanty, dingy
ror of my patients, excited still more by gray, brittle, crackling growth , — bitter
the elemental uproar without; vainly did sandworts and the like ; over and through
I harangue them, in the plainest terms which the abominable tawny sand -crabs
to which science is reducible , on atmos- are constantly executing diabolic waltzes
pheric vibrations, acoustics, reverbera- on the tips of their eight legs, vanishing
tions, and volcanic agencies ; they insist- into the ground like imps as you ap
ed on some supernatural power having proach ; curlews start from behind the
produced the recent fearful sounds. Nei- loose drifts of sand and float away
ther common nor uncommon sense could with heart- broken cries seaward ; little
prevail with them ; and when they dis- sandpipers twitter plaintively, running
covered, by the appearance of the extra through the weeds ; and great, sulky,
nurse I had sent for, to perforin the last gray cranes droop their motionless heads
offices for Jackson, that he was dead, over the still salt pools along the shore.
a renewed and irrepressible horror at- To this blank desolation I was forced
534 Eben Jackson . [ March,
to carry poor Jackson's body, with that five years had made the little girl of thir
of the fever -patient, just at sunset. As teen whom I had left behind on quitting
the Dutchman who officiated as hearse, home, was not invited to share my drive ;
sexton, bearer, and procession, stuck his there was something too serious in the
spade into the ground, and withdrew it errand to endure the presence of a gay
full of crumbling shells and fine sand young lady. But I was not lonely ; the
the hole it left filled with bitter black drive up Talcott Mountain , under the
ooze. There, sunk in the ooze, cover- rude portcullis of the toll -gate, through
ed with the shifting sand, bewailed by fragrant woods, by trickling brooks, past
the wild cries of sea-birds, noteless and huge boulders that scarce a wild vine
alone, I lett Eben Jackson, and returned dare cling to , with its feeble, delicate ten
to the mass of pestilence and wretched- drils, is all exquisite, and full of living
ness within the hospital walls. repose ; and turning to descend the moun
In the spring I reached home safely. tain, just where a brook drops headlong
None but the resident on a Southern with clattering leap into a steep black
sand-bank can fully appreciate the ver- ravine, and comes out over a tiny green
dure and bloom of the North . The great meadow , sliding past great granite rocks,
elms of my native town were full of ten- and bending the grass-blades to a shining
der buds, like a clinging mist in their track, you see suddenly at your feet the
graceful branches; earlier trees were beautiful mountain valley of the Farm
decked with little leaves, deep -creased, ington river, trending away in hill after
and silvery with down ; the wide river in hill,-- rough granite ledges crowned with
a fuent track of metallic lustre weltered cedar and pine,-deep ravines full of
through green meadows that on either heaped rocks, -- and here and there the
hand stretched far and wide ; the rolling formal white rows of a manufacturing
land beyond was spread out in pastures, village, where Kühleborn is captured and
where the cattle luxuriated after the win- forced to turn water-wheels, and Undine
ter's stalling ; and on many a slope and picks cotton or grinds hardware, dammed
plain the patient farmer turned up his into utility.
heavy sods and clay, to moulder in sun Into this valley I plunged , and in
and air for secd-time and harvest ; and quiring my way of many a prim far
the beautiful valley that met the horizon mer's wife and white-headed school-boy,
on the north and south rolled away east-
I edged my way northward under the
ward and westward to a low blue range mountain side, and just before noon found
of hills, that guarded it with granite myself beneath the “ great ellum ,” where,
walls and bristling spears of hemlock nearly twenty years ago, Eben Jackson
and pine. and Hetty Buel had said good -bye.
This is not my story ; and if it were , I I tied my horse to the fence and
do not know that I should detail my walked up the worn footpath to the
home-coming. It is enough to say, that door. Apparently no one was at home.
I came after a five years' absence, and Under this impression I knocked vehe
found all that I had left nearly as I had mently, by way of making sure ; and a
left it ; -how few can say as much ! weak, cracked voice at length answered,
Various duties and some business ar- “ Come in ! ” There, by the window ,
rangements kept me at work for six or perhaps the same where she sat so long
seven weeks, and it was June before I before , crouched in an old chair cover
could fulfil my promise to Eben Jackson . ed with calico, her bent fingers striving
I took the venerable old horse and chaise with mechanical motion to knit a coarse
that had carried my father on his rounds stocking, sat old Mrs. Buel. Aye had
for years, and made the best of my way worn to the extreme of attenuation a
out toward Simsbury. I was alone, of face that must always have been hard
course ; even Cousin Lizzy, charming as featured, and a few locks of snow -white
1858.] Eben Jackson . 535

hair, straying from under the bandanna over without preface or comment, but
handkerchief of bright red and orange over for all time.
that was tied over her cap and under her Still holding the chain , she offered me
chin , added to the old -world expression a chair, and sat down herself ,-a little
of her whole figure. She was very deaf; paler, a little more grave, than on enter
scarcely could I make ber comprehend ing.
that I wanted to see her grand -daughter; “ Will you tell me how and where he
at last she understood, and asked me to died, Sir ? ” said she, -evidently having
sit down till Hetty should come from long considered the fact in her heart as
school ; and before long, a tall, thin fig- a fact ; probably having beard Seth
ure opened the gate and came slowly up Crane's story of the Louisa Miles's loss.
the path. I detailed my patient's tale as briefly
I had a good opportunity to observe and sympathetically as I knew how . The
the constant, dutiful, self-denying Yankee episode of Wailua caused a little flushing
girl,-girl no longer, now that twenty of lip and cheek, a little twisting of the
years of unrewarded patience had lined ring, as if it were not to be worn , after
her face with unmistakable graving. But all ; but as I told of his sacred care of
I could not agree with Eben's statement the trinket for its giver's sake, and the
that she was not pretty ; she must bave not unwilling forsaking of that island
been so in her youth ; even now there wife, the restless motion passed away ,
was beauty in her deep -set and heavily and she listened quietly to the end ; only
fringed dark eyes, soft, tender, and seri- once lifting her left hand to her lips, and
ous, and in the noble and pensive Greek resting her head on it for a moment, as I
outline of the brow and nose ; her upper detailed the circumstances of his death,
lip and chin were too long to agree well after supplying what was wanting in his
with her little classic head, but they gave own story, from the time of his taking
a certain just and pure expression to the passage in Crane's ship, to their touching
whole face, and to the large thin-lipped at the island, expressly to leave him in
mouth, Aexible yet firm in its lines. It is the Hospital, when a violent hemor
true, her hair was neither abundant, nor rhage had disabled him from further
wanting in gleaming threads of gray ; voyaging,
her skin was freckled, sallow , and de- I was about to tell her I had seen him
void of varying tint or freshness ; her decently buried,-of course omitting de
figure angular and spare ; her hands red scriptions of the how and where,—when
with hard work ; and her air at once the grandmother, who had been watch
sad and shy ;-— still, Hetty Buel was a ing us with the impatient querulousness
very lovely woman in my eyes, though of age, hobbled across the room to ask
I doubt if Lizzy would have thought so . “ what that ’ are man was a-talkin' about."
I hardly knew how to approach the Briefly and calmly, in the key long
painful errand I had come on, and with use had suited to her infirmity, Hetty
true masculine awkwardness I cut the detailed the chief points of my story.
matter short by drawing out from my “ Dew tell ! ” exclaimed the old woman ;
pocket-book the Panama chain and ring, “ Eben Jackson a’n't dead on dry land,
and placing them in her hands. Well as is he ? Left mcans, eh ? "
I thought I knew the New England char- I walked away to the door, biting my
acter, I was not prepared for so quiet a lip. Hetty, for once , reddened to the
reception of this token as she gave it. brow ; but replaced her charge in the
With a steady hand she untwisted the chair and followed me to the gate.
wire fastening of the chain, slipped the “ Good day, Sir," said she, offering me
ring off, and, bending her head, placed it her hand , and then slightly hesitating ,
reverently on the ring-finger of her left “ Grandmother is very old . I thank you ,
hand ;-brief, but potent ceremony ; and Sir ! I thank you kinilly ! ”
536 Amours de Voyage. [ Warch,
As she turned and went toward the The house was closed , the path grassy,
house, I saw the glitter of the Panama a sweetbrier bush had blown across the
chain about her thin and sallow throat, door, and was gay with blossoms; all was
and, by the motion of her hands, that she still, dusty, desolate. I could not be sat
was retwisting the same wire fastening isfied with this. The meeting-house was
that Eben Jackson had manufactured for as near as any neighbor's, and the grave
it. yard would ask me no curious questions;
Five years after, last June, I went to I entered it doubting ; but there, “ on the
Simsbury with a gay picnic party. This leeward side,” near to the grave of “ Be
time Lizzy was with me ; indeed, she thia Jackson, wife of John Eben Jack
generally is now . son,” were two new stones, one dated but
I detached myself from the rest, after a year later than the other, recording
we were fairly arranged for the day, and the deaths of “ Temperance Buel, aged
wandered away alone to “ Miss Buel's .” 96,” and “Hester Buel, aged 44."

1 AMOURS DE VOYAGE .

[ Continued.]
II.

Is it illusion ? or does there a spirit from perfecter ages,

Here, even yet, amid loss, change, and corruption, abide ?
Does there a spirit we know not, though seek, though we find, comprebend not,
Here to entice and confuse, tempt and evade us, abide ?
Lives in the exquisite grace of the column disjointed and single,
Haunts the rude masses of brick garlanded gayly with vine,
E'en in the turret fantastic surviving that springs from the ruin,
E'en in the people itself ? Is it illusion or not ?
Is it illusion or not that attracteth the pilgrim Transalpine,
Brings him a dullard and dunce hither to pry and to stare ?
Is it illusion or not that allures the barbarian stranger,
Brings him with gold to the shrine, brings him in arms to the gate ?

I. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
What do the people say, and what does the government do ? -you
Ask, and I know not at all. Yet fortune will favor your hopes; and
I, who avoided it all, am fated , it seems, to describe it.
I, who nor meddle nor make in politics,-1, who sincerely
Put not my trust in leagues nor any suffrage by ballot,
Never predicted Parisian millenniums, never beheld a
New Jerusalem coming down dressed like a bride out of heaven
Right on the Place de la Concorde, – ), ne'ertheless, let me say it,
Could in my soul of souls, this day, with the Gaul at the gates, shed
One true tear for thee, thou poor little Roman republic !
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 537

France, it is foully done ! and you, my stupid old England, -

You, who a twelvemonth ago said nations must choose for themselves, you
Could not, of course , interfere, —you, now, when aa nation has chosen
Pardon this folly ! The Times will, of course , have announced the occasion,
Told you the news of today; and although it was slightly in error
When it proclaimed as a fact the Apollo was sold to a Yankee,
You may believe when it tells you the French are at Civita Vecchia.

II. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

“ DULCE ” it is, and “ decorum ,” no doubt, for the country to fall,—to
Offer one's blood an oblation to Freedom , and die for the Cause; yet
Still, individual culture is also something, and no man
Finds quite distinct the assurance that he of all others is called on,
Or would be justified, even, in taking away from the world that
Precious creature, himself. Nature sent him here to abide here ;
Else why sent him at all ? Nature wants him still, it is likely.
On the whole, we are meant to look after ourselves ; it is certain
Each has to eat for himself, digest for himself, and in general
Care for his own dear life, and see to his own preservation ;
Nature's intentions, in most things uncertain, in this most plain and decisive :
These, on the whole, I conjecture the Romans will follow, and I shall.
So we cling to the rocks like limpets ; Ocean may bluster,
Over and under and round us ; we open our shells to imbibe our
Nourishment, close them again, and are safe, fulfilling the purpose
Nature intended ,-a wise one, of course , and a noble, we doubt not
Sweet it may be and decorous, perhaps, for the country to die ; but,
On the whole, we conclude the Romans won't do it, and I shan't

III. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Will they fight ? They say so . And will the French ? I can hardly,
Hardly think so ; and yet He is come, they say, to Palo ,
He is passed from Monterone, at Santa Severa
He hath laid up his guns. But the Virgin, the Daughter of Roma,
She hath despised thee and laughed thee to scorn , —the Daughter of Tiber
She hath shaken her head and built barricades against thee !
Will they fight ? I believe it. Alas, 'tis ephemeral folly,
Vain and ephemeral folly, of course, compared with pictures,
Statues, and antique gems,-indeed : and yet indeed too,
Yet methought, in broad day did I dream ,—tell it not in St. James's,
Whisper it not in thy courts, O Christ Church !-yet did I, waking,
Dream of aa cadence that sings, Si tombent nos jeunes héros, la
Terre en produit de nouveaux contre vous tous prêts à se battre ;
Dreamt of great indignations and angers transcendental,
Dreamt of aa sword at my side and aa battle -horse underneath me.

IV . - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
Now supposing the French or the Neapolitan soldier
Should by some evil chance come exploring the Maison Serny,
538 Amours de Voyage. [March,
(Where the family English are all to assemble for safety ,)
Am I prepared to lay down my life for the British feinale ?
Really, who knows ? One has bowed and talked, till, little by little,
All the natural beat has escaped of the chivalrous spirit.
Oh, one conformed , of course ; but one doesn't die for good manners,
Stab or shoot, or be shot, by way of a graceful attention.
No, if it should be at all, it should be on the barricades there;
Should I incarnadine ever this inky pacifical finger,
Sooner far should it be for this vapor of Italy's freedom ,
Sooner far by the side of the damned and dirty plebeians.
Ah, for aa child in the street I could strike; for the full-blown lady
Somehow , Eustace, alas, I have not felt the vocation .
Yet these people of course will expect, as of course, my protection,
Vernon in radiant arms stand forth for the lovely Georgina,
And to appear, I suppose, were but common civility. Yes, and
Truly I do not desire they should either be killed or offended.
Oh, and of course you will say, “ When the time comes, you will be ready."
Ah, but before it comes, am I to presume it will be so ?
What I cannot feel now, am I to suppose that I shall feel ?
Am I not free to attend for the ripe and indubious instinct ?
Am I forbidden to wait for the clear and lawful perception ?
Is it the calling of man to surrender his knowledge and insight,
For the mere venture of what may, perhaps, be the virtuous action ?
Must we, walking o'er earth, discerning a little, and hoping
Some plain visible task shall yet for our hands be assigned us,
Must we abandon the future for fear of omitting the present,
Quit our own fireside hopes at the alien call of a neighbor,
To the mere possible shadow of Deity offer the victim ?
And is all this, my friend, but a weak and iynoble repining,
Wholly unworthy the head or the heart of Your Own Correspondent ?

V. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
Yes, we are fighting at last, it appears. This morning, as usual,
Aſurray, as usual, in hand, I enter the Caffe Nuovo ;
Seating myself with a sense as it were of a change in the weather,
Not understanding, however, but thinking mostly of Murray,
And, for to -day is their day, of the Campidoglio Marbles,
Caffè-lalle ! I call to the waiter,—and Non c' è latte,
This is the answer he makes me, and this the sign of aa battle.
So I sit ; and truly they seem to think any one else more
Worthy than me of attention. I wait for my milkless ncru,
Free to observe undistracted all sorts and sizes of persons,
Blending civilian and soldier in strangest costume, coming in, and
Gulping in hottest haste, still standing, their coffee,-withdrawing
Eagerly, jangling a sword on the steps, or jogging a musket
Slung to the shoulder behind. They are fewer, moreover, than usual,
Much, and silenter far; and so I begin to imagine
Something is really afloat. Ere I leave, the Caffè is empty,
Empty too the streets, in all its length the Corso
Empty, and empty I see to my right and left the Condotti.
Twelve o'clock, on the Pincian Ilill, with lots of English ,
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 539

Germans, Americans, French ,—the Frenchmen, too , are protected.

So we stand in the sun, but afraid of аa probable shower ;
So we stand and stare, and see, to the left of St. Peter's,
Smoke, froin the cannon, white,—but that is at intervals only ,
Black, from a burning house, we suppose, by the Cavalleggieri;
And we believe we discern some lines of men descending
Down through the vineyard -slopes, and catch a bayonet gleaming.
Every ten minutes, however,-in this there is no misconception ,
Comes a great white puff from behind Michel Angelo's dome, and
After a space the report of a real big gun , -not the Frenchman's ?
That must be doing some work. And so we watch and conjecture.
Shortly, an Englishman comes, who says he has been to St. Peter's,
Seen the Piazza and troops, but that is all he can tell us ;
So we watch and sit, and, indeed, it begins to be tiresome.
All this smoke is outside ; when it has come to the inside,
It will be time, perhaps, to descend and retreat to our houses.
Half -past one, or two. The report of small arms frequent,
Sharp and savage indeed ; that cannot all be for nothing:
So we watch and wonder ; but guessing is tiresome, very.
Weary of wondering, watching, and guessing, and gossipping idly,
Down I go, and pass through the quict streets with the knots of
National Guards patrolling, and flags hanging out at the windows,
English, American , Danish , --and, after offering to help an
Irish family moving en masse to the Maison Serny,
After endeavoring idly to minister balın to the trembling
Quinquagenarian fears of two lone British spinsters,
Go to make sure of my dinner before the enemy enter.
But by this there are signs of stragglers returning; and voices
Talk , though you don't believe it, of guns and prisoners taken ;
And on the walls you read the first bulletin of the morning.
This is all that I saw , and all I know of the battle.

VI. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Victory ! VICTORY -Yes ! ah, yes, thou republican Zion,
Truly the kings of the earth are gathered and gone by together ;
Doubtless they marvelled to witness such things, were astonished, and so forth.
Victory ! Victory ! Victory !-Ah, but it is, believe me,
Easier, easier far, to intone the chant of the martyr
Than to indite any pæan of any victory. Death may
Sometimes be noble ; but life, at the best, will appear an illusion.
While the great pain is upon us, it is great ; when it is over,
Why, it is over. The smoke of the sacrifice rises to heaven,
Of a sweet savor, no doubt, to somebody ; but on the altar,
Lo, there is nothing remaining but ashes and dirt and ill odor.
So it stands, you perceive; the labial muscles, that swelled with
Vehement evolution of yesterday Marseillaises,
Articulations sublime of defiance and scorning, to -day col
Lapse and languidly mumble, while men and women and papers
Scream and re -scream to each other the chorus of Victory. Well, but
I am thankful they fought, and glad that the Frenchmen were beaten.
540 Amours de Voyage. [ March,

VII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

So I have seen a man killed ! An experience that, among others !

Yes, I suppose I have ; although I can hardly be certain,
And in a court of justice could never declare I had seen it.
But a man was killed, I am told, in a place where I saw
Something; a man was killed, I am told, and I saw something.
I was returning home from St. Peter's ; Murray, as usual,
Under my arm , I remember ; had crossed the St. Angelo bridge ; and
Moving towards the Condotti, had got to the first barricade, when
Gradually, thinking still of St. Peter's, I became conscious
Of a sensation of movement opposing me,—tendency this way
(Such as one fancies may be in a stream when the wave of the tide is
Coming and not yet come, -a sort of poise and retention );
So I turned, and, before I turned, caught sight of stragglers
Heading a crowd, it is plain, that is coming behind that corner.
Looking up, I see windows filled with heads; the Piazza,
Into which you remember the Ponte St. Angelo enters,
Since I passed, has thickened with curious groups ; and now the
Crowd is coming, has turned , has crossed that last barricade, is
Here at my side. In the middle they drag at something. What is it ?
Ha ! bare swords in the air, held up ! There seem to be voices
Pleading and hands putting back ; official, perhaps; but the swords are
Many, and bare in the air ,—in the air ! They descend ! They are smiting,
Hewing, chopping ! At what ? In the air once more upstretched ! And
Is it blood that's on them ? Yes, certainly blood ! Of whom , then ?
Over whom is the cry of this furor of exultation ?
While they are skipping and screaming, and dancing their caps on the points of
Swords and bayonets, I to the outskirts back, and ask a
Mercantile-seeming bystander, “ What is it ? ” and he, looking always
That way, makes me answer, “ A Priest, who was trying to fly to
The Neapolitan army,”—and thus explains the proceeding.
You didn't see the dead man ? No ;-I began to be doubtful;
I was in black myself, and didn't know what mightn't happen ;
But a National Guard close by mc, outside of the hubbub,
Broke his sword with slashing a broad hat covered with dust, -and
Passing away from the place with Murray under my arm , and
Stooping, I saw through the legs of the people the legs of a body.
You are the first, do you know, to whom I have mentioned the matter.
Whom should I tell it to, else ? -these girls ?—the Heavens forbid it !
Quidnunes at Monaldini's ?-idlers upon the Pincian ?
If I rightly remember, it happened on that afternoon when
Word of the ncarer approach of a new Neapolitan army
First was spread. I began to bethink me of Paris Septembers,
Thought I could fancy the look of the old ’Ninety-two. On that evening,
Three or four, or, it may be, five, of these people were slaughtered.
Some declare they had , one of them, fired on a sentinel ; others
Say they were only escaping; a Priest, it is currently stated,
Stabbed aa National Guard on the very Piazza Colonna :
. History, Rumor of Rumors, I leave it to thee to determine !
But I am thankful to say the government seems to have strength to
1858. ] Amours de Voyage. 541

Put it down ; it has vanished, at least; the place is now peaceful.

Through the Trastevere walking last night, at nine of the clock, I
Found no sort of disorder ; I crossed by the Island-bridges,
So by the narrow streets to the Ponte Rotto, and onwards
Thence, by the Temple of Vesta, away to the great Coliseum ,
Which at the full of the moon is an object worthy a visit.

VIII. GEORGINA TREVELLYN TO LOUISA

ONLY think, dearest Louisa, what fearful scenes we have witnessed !
George has just seen Garibaldi, dressed up in a long white cloak, on
Horseback, riding by, with his mounted negro bebind him :
This is a man, you know, who came from America with him ,
Out of the woods, I suppose, and uses a lasso in fighting,
Which is, I don't quite know, but a sort of noose, I imagine;
This he throws on the heads of the enemy's men in a battle,
Pulls them into his reach , and then most cruelly kills them :
Mary does not believe, but we heard it from an Italian .
Mary allows she was wrong about.Mr. Claude being selfish ;
He was most useful and kind on the terrible thirtieth of April.
Do not write here any more ; we are starting directly for Florence :
We should be off to -morrow , if only Papa could get horses ;
All have been seized everywhere for the use of this dreadful Mazzini.
P. S.
Mary has seen thus far. - I am really so angry , Louisa , –
Quite out of patience, my dearest ! What can the man be intending ?
I am quite tired ; and Mary, who might bring him to in a moment,
Lets him go on as he likes, and neither will help nor dismiss him .

IX. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE .

It is most curious to see what a power a few calm words (in
Merely a brief proclamation ) appear to possess on the people.
Order is perfect, and peace ; the city is utterly tranquil;
And one cannot conceive that this easy and nonchalant crowd, that
Flows like a quiet stream through street and market-place, entering
Shady recesses and bays of church , ostería and caffè,
Could in a moment be changed to a flood as of molten lava,
Boil into deadly' wrath and wild homicidal delusion .
Ah, ' tis an excellent race, -and even in old degradation ,
Under a rule that enforces to flattery, lying, and cheating,
E’en under Pope and Priest, a nice and natural people.
Oh, could they but be allowed this chance of redemption !—but clearly
That is not likely to be. Meantime, notwithstanding all journals,
Honor for once to the tongue and the pen of the eloquent writer !
Honor to speech ! and all honor to thee, thou noble Mazzini !

X. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
I am in love, meantime, you think ; no doubt, you would think so.
I am in love, you say ; with those letters, of course, you would say 80.
542 Amours de Voyage. [ March,
I am in love, you declare. I think not so ; yet I grant you
It is a pleasure, indeed, to converse with this girl. Oh, rare gift,
Rare felicity, this! she can talk in a rational way, can
Speak upon subjects that really are matters of mind and of thinking,
Yet in perfection retain her simplicity ; never, one moment,
Never, however you urge it, however you tempt her, consents to
Step from ideas and fancies and loving sensations to those vain
Conscious understandings that vex the minds of man-kind.
No, though she talk, it is music ; her fingers desert not the keys ; ' tis
Song, though you hear in her song the articulate vocables sounded,
Syllabled singly and sweetly the words of melodious meaning.

XI.- CLAUDE TO EUSTACE .

Ah, let me look, let me watch, let me wait, unbiased, unprompted !
Bid me not venture on aught that could alter or end what is present!
Say not, Time flies, and occasion, that never returns, is departing !
Drive me rot out, ye ill angels with fiery swords, from my Eden,
Waiting, and watching, and looking ! Let love be its own inspiration !
Shall not a voice, if a voice there must be, from the airs that environ ,
Yea, from the conscious heavens, without our knowledge or effort,
Break into audible words ? Let love be its own inspiration !

XII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

WHEREFORE and how I am certain , I hardly can tell; but it is so.

She doesn't like me, Eustace ; I think she never will like me.
Is it my fault, as it is my misfortune, my ways are not her ways ?
Is it my fault, that my habits and modes are dissimilar wholly ?
' Tis not her fault, ' tis her nature, her virtue, to misapprehend them ::
'Tis not her fault, 'tis her beautiful nature, not even to know me.
Hopeless it seeins,—yet II cannot, hopeless, determine to leave it :
She goes,—therefore I go ; she moves,—I move, not to lose her.

XIII. -CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Oh, 'tisn't manly, of course, 'tisn't manly, this method of wooing;
' Tisn't the way very likely to win. For the woman, they tell you,
Ever prefers the audacious, the wilful, the vehement hero ;
She has no heart for the timid , the sensitive soul; and for knowledge,
Knowledge, O ye gods —when did they appreciate knowledge ?
Wherefore should they, either ? I am sure I do not desire it.
Ah, and I feel too, Eustace, she cares not a tittle about me !
(Care about me, indeed ! and do I really expect it ?)
But my manner offends; my ways are wholly repugnant;
Every word that I utter estranges, hurts, and repels her ;
Every moment of bliss that I gain, in her exquisite presence,
Slowly, surely, withdraws her, removes her, and severs her from me.
0
Not that I care very much !-any way, I escape from the boy's own
Folly, to which I am prone, of loving where it is easy .
Yet, after all, my Eustace, I know but little about it.
All I can say for myself, for present alike and for past, is,
1858. ] Amours de Voyage. 543

Mary Trevellyn, Eustace, is certainly worth your acquaintance.

You couldn't come, II suppose, as far as Florence, to see her ?

XIV.- GEORGINA TREVELLYN TO LOUISA

To-morrow we're starting for Florence,
Truly rejoiced, you may guess, to escape from republican terrors ;
Mr. C. and Papa to escort us ; we by vettura
Through Siena, and Georgy to follow and join us by Leghorn.
Then Ah, what shall I say, my dearest ? I tremble in thinking !
You will imagine my feelings, —the blending of hope and of sorrow !
How can I bear to abandon Papa and Mamma and my sisters ?
Dearest Louisa, indeed it is very alarming; but trust me
Ever, whatever may change, to remain your loving Georgina
P. S. BY MARY TREVELLYN .
»
“ Do I like Mr. Claude any better ? ”
I am to tell you , -- and , “ Pray, is it Susan or I that attract him ? "
This he never has told, but Georgina could certainly ask him .
All I can say for myself is, alas ! that he rather repels me.
There ! I think him agreeable, but also a little repulsive.
So be content, dear Louisa ; for one satisfactory marriage
Surely will do in one year for the family you would establish ,
Neither Susan nor I shall afford you the joy of a second.
P. S. BY GEORGINA TREVELLYN .
Mír. Claude, you must know, is behaving a little bit better ;
He and Papa are great friends; but he really is too shilly -shally ,
So unlike George ! Yet I hope that the matter is going on fairly.
I shall, however, get George, before he goes, to say something.
Dearest Louisa, how delightful, to bring young people together !

Is it to Florence we follow , or are we to tarry yet longer,

E'en amid clamor of arms, here in the city of old,
Seeking from clamor of arms in the Past and the Arts to be hidden,
Vainly 'mid Arts and the Past secking our life to forget ?

Ah, fair shadow , scarce seen, go forth ! for anon he shall follow ,
He that beheld thee, anon, whither thou leadest, must go !
Go, and the wise, loving Muse, she also will follow and find thee !
She, should she linger in Rome, were not dissevered from thee !
[ To be continued .]
 A Welsh Musical Festival. [ March,

A WELSH MUSICAL FESTIVAL.

I HAD been knocking about London, population for whose edification my “lit
as the phrase goes, for more months than erary tastes ” were , I hoped, to be called
I choose to mention, when, my purse into requisition. But at the very outset
presenting unmistakable symptoms of a a tremendous difficulty stared me in the
coming state of collapse, I began serious- face. Nine out of every ten of the peo
ly to look about me for the means of re- ple I met or passed spoke in a language
plenishing it. Luckily, I had not to wait that to me was as unintelligibly mysteri
long for an opportunity. One morn- ous as the cuneiform characters on Mr.
ing, as I sat in the box of a coffee -room Layard's Nineveh sculptures. It was a
in Holborn, running my eye over the hard, harsh, guttural dialect, which even
advertisement columns of the “ Times,” those who were to the manner born
I met with one which promised novelty, seemed to jerk out painfully and spas
at least ; I had bad too much experience modically from their lingual organs.
in such matters to anticipate from it any This was especially obvious during a
very great pecuniary compensation. The bargain, where an excited market-man
said advertisement was to the effect, that was endeavoring to pass off a tough old
a gentleman who combined literary tastes gander as a tender young goose, to some
with business habits was required to edit equally excited customer. It was disso
a paper published in a town in South nant enough to my ear, but I fancy it
Wales ; and it went on to state , that ap- would have driven aa sensitive Italian to
plication, personally or by letter, might distraction . After listening to the horri
be made to the proprietor of the said ble jargon for some time, I could easily
journal at M believe the story which poor William
That I possessed some taste for litera- Maginn used to tell with such unction ,
ture I was well enough assured ; but as of the origin of the Welsh language. It
for my “ business habits,” perhaps the was to this effect. When the Tower of
least said about them, the better. This Babel was being built, the workmen all
condition of candidateship, however, I spoke one tongue. Just at the very in
quietly shirked, while counting over my stant when the “ confusion" occurred , a
few remaining coins, scarcely more than mason , trowel in hand, called for a brick.
sufficient, after paying my landlady, to This his assistant was so long in handing
defray my expenses to M >some one to him , that he incontinently flew into a
hundred and sixty miles distant. Deter- towering passion, and discharged from
mining, then, to assume a commercial the said trowel a quantity of mortar,
virtue, though I had it not, I quitted the which entered the other's windpipe just
metropolis, and in due time reached as he was stammering out an excuse.
the land of leeks, with a light heart, The air, rushing through the poultice-like
and seven and sixpence sterling in my mixture, caused a spluttering and gurg
pocket. ling, which, blending with the half-form
A queer little Welsh town was M- ed words, became that language ever
with an androgynous population , or so since known as Welsh . — I think it my
it seemed to me, who had never before duty to advise the reader never to
beheld women wearing men's hats and tell this anecdote to any descendants of
coats, and men with head -coverings and Cadwallader, who are peculiarly sensi
other articles of apparel of a very am- tive on the subject, and so hot-blooded ,
biguous description . It chanced to be that it is not at all unlikely the injudi
market-day when I arrived, so that I had cious story -teller might be deprived of
a capital opportunity of observing the any future opportunity of insulting the
1858.) A Welsh Musical Festival. 545

Ap-Shenkins, the Ap- Joneses, and the which he pronounced Monothosluin, and
race of very irascible Taffys in gen- so I spelt it in my report. “ Cot pless
eral. me, Sur ! — sure inteed, and you have
I had, however, little time to study not spelt hur right,” remarked Mr. Mor
either language or character; so, after a gan , the foreman ; and for my edifica
plain dinner at the Merlin's Head, the tion he set it up thus, -Mynyddysllwyn .
chief inn of the place, I set out for the I almost turned my tongue into a cork
purpose of seeing the newspaper propri- screw , trying to speak the word as he
etor. Fortified by a letter of introduc- did, and I fairly gave up in despair.
tion and soine testimonials, I entered his After that, I made it a rule, when I did
shop ,—he was a bookseller and stationer, not know how to spell some unpro
-and inquired for Mr. F nounceable word, to huddle a number
" That's my name," said a red -faced of consonants together in most admired
man behind the counter. I handed him disorder, and I was then usually nearer
the introductory note, he glanced at it correctness than if I had orthographized
and then at me, thrust it into his waist- by ear.
coat pocket, and, as soon as he had I had been installed in the editorial
served the customer with whom he was chair some six months when Mr. F
engaged, led the way into a little room informed me it was necessary I should
adjoining the place of business. visit Abergavenny, a town some twenty
Mr. F- owned the newspaper ; five miles distant, for the purpose of
but, as he never ventured in a literary reporting the proceedings at the Cym
way beyond reading proofs of advertise- REIGGDDYON.
ments, he was compelled to employ an “ And what the deuse is that ? " I in
editor to do the leaders, select from the quired.
exchanges, prepare the local news, and I learned that it was a Triennial Mu
get up the reporting. He was, however, sical Festival, so called, —at which all the
a practical printer, and, in the main , a musical talent of Wales would be pres
good fellow. After looking at my testi- ent ; in short, that it was a very grand
monials and asking a few questions, my occasion indeed, would be patronized by
services were accepted, and I was duly the aristocracy of the Principality, and
installed as editor of the “ M- Bea- full reports of each of the three days
con ," a small, but rather influential county proceedings were absolutely necessary .
sheet. I ought to observe, that, as it cir- Here again the Welsh difficulty start
culated chiefly in places where English ed up ; but as the Cymreiggddyon would
was generally spoken, my ignorance of be quite a novelty, I determined to
Welsh was of but little importance, es- trust to Chance and Circumstance , -two
pecially as the foreman of the printing. allies of mine who have gallantly aided
office was a Cambrian, who could correct me in many a tough battle of literary
any errors I might make in Taffy's or- life.
thography, which, prodigal as it is of con- Remembering the words of Goldsmith,
sonants and penurious of vowels, and, as — “ The young noble who is whirled
it regards pronunciation, embarrassing to through
through Europe
Europe in
in his
his chariot sees soci
the last degree, might drive Elihu Bur- ety at a peculiar elevation , and draws
ritt back to his smithy in an agony of conclusions widely different from him
despair. who makes the grand tour on foot," I
Thus assisted, I got on tolerably well, determined to make my way to Aber
though at first I made some awful mis- gavenny either by means of my own
takes in the names of places mentioned legs or through the chance aid of those
by witnesses in courts of justice and of a Welsh pony. So, one bright morn
elsewhere. For instance, at the assizes, ing, with stick in hand, knapsack on
a man swore that he resided at a place shoulder, and a wandering artist for
VOL . I. 35
546 4 Welsh Musical Festival. [ March,
a companion, I started for the iron dis- wheeled back to give a forgotten mes
trict, as that part of Wales is termed. sage to some starry -night-watcher ,- or so
Wildly romantic were the roads we my companion intinuated. But, unfortu
traversed ; and after having threaded nately for his theory, the dull red glare
many a glen, leaped frequent torrents, above us, which every moment deepened
ascended and descended mountains with in intensity, was evidently the reflection
impossible names, and plodded wearily of earthly, not heavenly fire . I had
across dreary moors, glad enough were seen too many conflagrations to doubt
we to observe, in the less thinly scat- that for an instant. Presently a dull,
tered cottages, indications of a town . confused sound fell on our ears , and at
The clouds had been gathering omi- a sudden turn round an angle of our
nously during the latter half of our long mountain road we stood speechless as
day of travel,—and as the sun set blood- we gazed on a spectacle which Mil
red behind a heavy bank of vapor, it ton might have conceived and Martin
cast lurid reflections on large bodies of painted.
dense mist, which sailed heavily athwart
the crests of the mountains, with low , “ Far other light than that of day there shone
Upon the wanderers entering Padalon , "
ragged, trailing edges, that were too
surely the precursors of a storm . Just murmured the artist, as he gazed on
before the orb finally disappeared, its the strange scene. And strange indeed
slant rays streamed through some dark was it to our startled eyes. We stood
purple bars on the horizon's verge, and on the end and summit of a mountain
for an instant tinged the opposite dis- spur, some two thousand feet above the
tant mountains with strange supernat- valley, or rather basin, below, from the
ural hues. The Blorenge and the Su centre of which burst forth a thousand
gar Loaf glowed like huge carbuncles, fires, whose dull roar - dulled by dis
while the pale green light which bathed tance — was like “the noise of the sea
their bases gleamed faintly like a set- on an iron - bound shore.” The extent
ting of aqua-marina. My artist com- of space covered by those strange, fierce
panion incontinently fell into profes- fires must have amounted to many acres,
sional raptures, and raved of “ effect,” – in fact, did so , as we afterwards as
and “ Turner,” and “ Ruskin ,” heedless certained , and the effect produced by
of my advice that he had better hasten them may be partially imagined when it
onward, lest night should overtake us • is remembered that these flames were
in that wild region, where sheep-tracks, of all hues, from rich ruby -red, to the
scarcely visible even by daylight, were pale lurid light of burning sulphur.
our sole guides. At length, however, I Fancy all the gems of Aladdin's Palace
managed to start him , and on we stalked , or Sinbad's Valley in fierce flashing
the decreasing twilight and the distant combustion, immensely magnified, and
reverberations of thunder among the you may form some faint idea of the
mountains hastening our steps, until scene in that Welsh valley.
they became almost a trot. Stretching out, like spokes of a gigan
But soon the trot declined once more tic wheel , from their fiery re, were
into a walk , and a slow one too ,-for we huge embankments, like those of Titanic
entered a gloomy pass or gorge, whose railways, whose summits and sides, es
rocky walls on either side effectually ex- pecially towards their extremities, glow
cluded what little light yet lingered in ed in patches with all the hues of the
the sky. Cautiously picking our way, rainbow . As I gazed wonderingly on
we slowly travelled on , until at length one of these,-a real mountain of light,
we became sensible of a faint red flush far surpassing the Koh -i-Noor,-I ob
in the narrow strip of sky overhead . served a dark figure gliding along its
It seemed as though the sun had just summit, pushing something before it, like
1858.] A Welsh Musical Festival. 547

a black imp conveying an unfortunate —which, as made in the Principality, it

much resembles, - I took a stroll through
soul from one part of Tophet to another.
At the extremity of the ridge the imp the town. It was a dull-looking place
stopped , and suddenly there shot down enough, and as dirty as dull ; every house
the steep, not a tortured ghost, but a was built with dingy gray stones, without
shower of radiant gems even more bril- any reference whatever to cleanliness or
liant than those to which I have already ventilation ; and as to the civilization of
referred . the inhabitants, I saw enough to con
“ What, in the name of all that's won- vince me, that, to see real barbarism ,
derful, is that ? ” said my friend, Mr. an Englishman need only visit that part
Vandyke Brown ; and I was also trying of Great Britain called Wales. It was
to account for the phenomena, when a eight in the evening, and the day-labor
voice close to my ear - a voice which I ers at the furnaces had just left work.
was certain belonged neither to Mr. The doors of all the cottages were open,
B. nor myself — uttered the mysterious and, as I passed them, in almost every
word, - one was to be seen a perfectly naked
* Sl-aa-g ! " stalwart man rubbing himself down with
I looked round, and, sure enough, there a dirty rough towel, while his wife and
stood a being who might very easily be grown -up daughters or sisters, almost as
mistaken for a new arrival from the bot- nude and filthy as himself, stood listlessly
tomless pit. Such, however, it was evi- by, or prepared his supper.
dent he was not. Though he was black Glad to escape from such disgusting
enough, in all conscience, he had neither objects, I hurried back to the Bush and
horns, hoof, nor tail, and he was redolent to bed. But not to rest, though; for dur
rather of 'bacco than brimstone ; a queer ing that long, miserable night, the eternal
old hat , in the band of which was stuck rattle of machinery, clattering of ham
an unlighted candlė, covered a mass of mers, whirling of huge wheels, and roar
matted red hair ; his eyes were glaring ing of blast-furnaces completely murder
and rimmed with red ; and there was a ed sleep. Never, for one instant, did
gash in his face where his mouth should these sounds cease , -nor do they, it is
have been . A loose flannel shirt, which said, the long year through ; for if any
had once been rcd, a pair of indescrib- accident happens at one of the five great
able trowsers, and thick - soled shoes, iron -works, there are four others which
completed his dress, -an attire which rest not day nor night. Little, however,
I at once recognized as that common is this heeded by the people of Merthyr ;
among the coal-miners of the district. they are lulled to repose by the clatter
“ 'Deed and truth, Sur, they is cinder- of iron bars and the thumping of trip
heaps and slag from the iron -works, Sur ; hammers, but are instantaneously awak
and yon is Merthyr -Tydvil, sure.” ened by the briefest intervals of silence.
Piloted by our dusky guide,- not ex- Glad enough was I, the next morning
actly, though, like Campbell's “ Alorning early, to cross an ink -black stream and
brought by Night,” — we soon reached the leave the town, and pleasant was it to
town ,—which is named after a young breathe the free, fresh mountain air, after
lady of legendary times named Tydfil, inhaling the foul smoke of the iron -works.
a Christian martyr, of which Merthyr- Towards the close of the afternoon, after
Tydvil is a corruption ,-and made the a delightful walk , a great portion of it
best of our way to the Bush Inn, where on the banks of the picturesque river
we treated our sable friend to some cwrw Usk, we came in sight of Abergavenny,
dach, - Anglicé, strong ale ; and after a where the Cymreiggddygn was to be
hearty supper of Welsh rabbit, which held.
Tom Ingoldshy calls a " bunny without The first of the glorious three days
any bones,” and “ custard with mustard ," was duly ushered in with the firing of
348 A Welsh Musical Festival. [ March,
cannon, ringing of bells, and all kinds of lously amusing it was never my good for
extravagant jubilation. It wasn't quite tune to see. I had, however, to keep all
as noisy as a Fourth of July, but much my fun to myself, for Welshmen are not
more discordant. Strings of flags were to be trifled with . Any one who wishes
suspended across the streets, -flags with to be convinced of this need only walk
harps of all sorts and sizes displayed into a Welsh village, singing the old
thereon, - flags with Welsh mottoes, child -doggerel of
English mottoes, Scotch mottoes, and no “ Taffy was a Welshman , Taffy was a thief,
mottoes at all. In front of the Town Taffy came to my house and stole a piece
Hall was almost an acre of transparent of beef," etc.,
painting,-meant, that is, to be so after
dark, but mournfully opaque and picto and, my life on it, he will not leave it with
rially mysterious in the full glare of sun- out striking proofs of Welsh sensitiveness,
shine. As far as I could make it out, it and voluble illustrations of some Jenny
was the full-length portrait - taken from Jones's displeasure. By no means in
life, no doubt - of an Ancient Welsh clined to subject myself to such incon
Bard. He was depicted as a baldheaded , venient experiences, I prudently kept my
elderly gentleman, with upturned eyes, eyes wide open and my mouth shut,-or
apparently regarding with reverence if I spoke, I merely asked questions, by
hole in an Indian -ink cloud through which means I acquired necessary infor
which slanted a gamboge sunbeam , and mation and passed off for a gratified
having a white beard , which streamed like stranger and an admiring spectator.
a (horse-hair) " meteor on the troubled All the resources of the town and its
air. " neighborhood, and indeed of the county
This venerable minstrel was seat-
ed on a cairn of rude stones, his white itself, had been exhausted to give due
robe clasped at his throat and round his effect to the parade, of which I regret to
waist by golden brooches, and with a say that I cannot hope to give any ade
harp, shaped like that of David in old quatc description. All the usual ele
Bible illustrations, resting on the sward ments of processions were to be seen .
before him . In the background were Bands of music, - there were at least
-

some Druidical remains, by way of au- a dozen of them , all playing different
dience ; and the whole was surrounded pieces at one and the same moment,
by a botanical border, consisting of leeks, which had a somewhat distracting effect
on those sensitively -eared people who
oak -leaves, laurel, and mistletoe, which
had a very rare and agreeable effect. weakly prefer one air at a time and do
Nor were these hieroglyphical decora- not appreciate tuneful tornadoes. As
tions without a deep meaning to a Cam- the procession went by at a brisk pace,
brian ; for while the oak - leaf typified the it was curious enough to notice how the
durability of Welsh minstrelsy, the mis- last wailing notes of “ noble race was
tletoe its mysterious origin , and the laurel Shenkin ," played by a band in advance,
its reward , the national leek was pleas- blended with the brisk music of “ My
antly suggestive of its usual culinary name's David Price, and I'm come from
companions, Welsh mutton and toasted Llangollen ,” performed by a company
cheese. in the rear . In fact, it was a genuine
As in America, so in Wales, almost Welsh musical medley , and the daring
every public matter is provocative of a genius who would have occupied himself
procession , and the proceedings of the in “ untwisting all the links which tied
Festival commenced with one. No doubt, its hidden soul of harmony ,” would have
it was to the wes of the many, who from had about as difficult and distressing a
scores of miles round had travelled to task as he who tried to make ropes out
witness it, very imposing and serious of sea -sand .
lemonstration ; but anything more ridicu- Of course, these bands were made up
1858.] A Welsh Musical Festival. 549

of divers instruments, but the national many more, in face of the high poetical
harp was head and chief of them all, as authority I have just cited and refuted.
might naturally have been expected in Talk of the age of poetry having passed
such a place and at such a time. There away, when three -score and ten bards
were barps of all sorts and shapes ; some can be seen at one time in a little
of the Welsh urchins had even Jews- Welsh town ! These men of genius
harps between their teeth . There were were headed by Bard Alaw , whose un
Irish harps, English harps, and Welsh poetical name, I almost hesitate to write
harps. There was no Caledonian harp, it, was Williams,—Taliesin Williams,
though ; but a remarkably dirty fellow in the Welsh given name alone redeeming it
the procession seemed to be making up from obscurity. I found, too, to my dis
for the lack of one stringed instrument enchantment, that all the other bards
by bringing another, -- the Scotch fiddle ! were Joneses and Morgans, Pryces and
-on which he perpetually played the Robertses, when they were met in every
tune of “ God bless the gude Duke of day life, before and after these festivals ;
Argyle ! ” There were harps with one, and that they kept shops, and carried
two, and three sets of strings, -harps with on mechanical trades. Only fancy Bard
gold strings, silver strings, brass strings, — Ap-Tudor shaving you, or Bard Llyynn
strings of cat-gut and brass, -strings red , ssllumpllyynn measuring you for a new
and brown, and white. I looked sharp pair of trowsers !
for the “ harp of a thousand strings," After the bards and minstrels came
but it was nowhere to be seen ; and sur-the gentry of the county, the clergy,
mising that such is only played on by and distinguished strangers, before and
the spirits of just men made perfect, I behind whom banners floated and flags
ceased to search further for it in that streamed . On many of these banners
procession ,—for though the men compos- were fancy portraits of Saint David , the
ing it might be just enough, they were Patron Saint of Wales, always with a
evidently a long way from perfection. harp in his hand. But the Saint must
And when it is remembered that all have had a singularly varied expres
these harps were twang -twanging away sion of countenance, or else bis portrait
furiously, and that their strings were be- painters must have been mere block
ing swept over with no Bochsa fingers, heads, for no two of their productions
few will wonder that I longed for cotton were alike. I saw smiling Davids,
wool, and blessed the memory of Paga- frowning Davids, mild Davids, and fero
nini, who had only one string to his bow . cious Davids,-Davids with oblique eyes,
Harps, however, would be of little red noses, and cavernous mouths,-and
value, were there no bards to sing and Davids as blind as bats, or with great
no minstrels to play. Walter Scott was goggle -orbs, aquiline nasal organs, blue
decidedly wrong , when, speaking of his at the tips, and lips made for a lisp.
minstrel, he says, One David had a brown Welsh wig on
" The last of all the bards was he." bis head, and was anachronistically at
tired in a snuff -colored coat, black small
Nonsense ! I saw at least fifty in that clothes, gray, coarse, worsted stockings,
procession ,-regular, legitimate bards, — high -low boots, with buckles, and he wore
each one having a bardic bald pate, a on his head a three-cornered hat, and
long white bardic beard, flowing bardic used spectacles as big as tea -saucers.
robes, bardic sandals, a bardic harp in On my remarking to a bystander, that
his hand, and an ancient bardic name. I was not aware knee -breeches were
There was Bard Alaw , Bard Llewellyn, worn in the time of the ancient kings,
Bard Ap- Tudor, Bard Llyyddmunndd- I was condescendingly informed that this
ggynn, (pronounce it, if you can, Read- David was not the celebrated Monarch
er,–I can't,) and I am afraid to say how Minstrel, but a Mr. Pryce David, the
550 A Welsh Musical Festival. [ March,
founder of the Cymreiggddyon Society . But the bards are in their places,—the
But the most amusing David was one front rows of either gallery ; the presi
depicted on a banner carried in front dent has taken his seat; the leading
of a company of barbers belonging to ladies of the county are in their chairs ;
the order of Odd Fellows. In that mag- and while the large audience are settling
nificent work of art David was repre down into their places, let us glance at
sented bewailing the death of Absalom , two or threc of the celebrities present.
that uphappy young man being seen On the foremost seat, to the right of the
hanging by his hair from a tree . Out chairman, sits a lady who is evidently a
of the mouth of David issued a scroll, somebody, since all the gentlemen, on en
a

on which was inscribed the following tering, pay her especial respect. She is
Luching verse : rather past the middle age, but has worn
“ Oh , Absalom ! Oh, Absalom ! well; her eye is still bright, her cheek
Oh, Absalom , my son ! fresh -colored, and her skin smooth . Evi
If thou badst worn a good Welsh wig , dently she takes much interest in the
Thou badst not been undone ! " proceedings,—and little wonder, for it
It was with no little trouble that I el- is mainly owing to her exertions that the
bowedmy way into the great temporary Festival has not become one of the things
hall where the exercises were to be held ; that were. Her name ? You may see it
but by dint of much pressing forward, I embroidered in dahlias on yonder broad
at length reached the reporters' bench. strip of white cotton, stretching across
Directly in front was a raised platform , the breadth of the hall, nearly over her
and on two sides of the tent galleries had head. These blossoms form the letters
been erected for the bards and orators. and words, GWENNEN GWENT, or “ The
On the platform table were arranged Bee of Gwent,” — Gwent being the an
prizes to be given for the best playing, cient name of that portion of Glamor
singing, and speaking,—and also for ar- gan . The title is apt enough ; for Lady
ticles of domestic Welsh manufacture, Hall — that is her matter -of-fact name
such as plaids, flannels, and the like. A is proverbially one of the busiest of her
large velvet and gilded chair was placed sex in all that relates to the welfare of
on a daïs for the president, and on either her poorer neighbors. She is wife of
side of this, seats for ladies and visitors. Sir Benjanin Hall, member of Parlia
In a very short time every corner of the ment for the largest parish in London,
spacious area was crammed . St. Mary-le-bone, and whose county resi
And a pretty and a cheerful spectacle dence is at Llanover Court, near Aber
was presented wherever the eye turned. gavenny. That tall, aristocratic man
As in almost all other gatherings of the near her is her husband ; but he looks
kind, the fair sex were greatly in the somewhat out of place there. As a
majority ; and during the interval which member of the House of Commons, he
elapsed between the opening of the doors is prominent; but evidently his present
and the beginning of business, the clat- position is not at all to his taste.
ter of female tongues was prodigious. On the left of the chairman is another
The sex generally are voluble when in lady, whose name is well known in litera
crowds; but as for Welsh women , their ry circles. She is not Weth by birth,
loquacity was far beyond anything of though she is so by marriage,-she being
the kind I had ever conceived of. And united to one of the great iron -masters.
there were some wonderfully handsome She has a large face, open and cheerful
specimens of girlhood, womanhood, and looking, if not handsome. The forehead
matronhood among that great gathering; is broad and white , —the eyes dark and
though I am compelled to admit that in lustrous. Formerly, she was known to
Wales beauty forms theexception, rather the reading world as Lady Charlotto
than the rule. Lindsay ; now she is Lady Charlotte
1858.] A Welsh Musical Festival. 551
66
Guest; a woman than whom very few Bunch's “ bobbing to the centre of the
archæologists are better acquainted with earth ” — the red -cheeked little harpist
the Welsh language and its ancient lit- vanished .
erature. She is the author of that very
»
Next came the young man ; but sev
learned work, “ The Mabinogion ,” a col- eral of the harp -strings at once snapped
lection of early Welsh legends. This in consequence of his fierce fingering,
book was printed a few years since by and he broke down amidst howls of gut
the pale-faced, intelligent-looking man tural disapprobation. So far as compe
who is standing behind her chair, Mr. tition was concerned, he was, in sporting
Rees,-a printer in an obscure Welsh parlance, nowhere !
hamlet, named Llandovery. He has, The old blind gentleman followed , and
with perfect propriety, been termed the I do not think that I ever witnessed a
Welsh Elzevir ; and certainly a finer spe- more melancholy spectacle. Apollo play
cimen of typography than that furnished ing on his stringed instrument presents a
by the " Mabinogion " can scarcely be very graceful appearance ; but fancy a
produced. Welsh Orpheus with a face all seamed
The chairman is a pompous old no and scarred by smallpox , -a short, fiery
body. Him I need not describe. The button in the middle of his countenance,
presiding and directing spirit of the place serving for a nose ,-a mouth awry and
is a tall, slender gentleman with snow- toothles , - and two long, dirty, bony
-

white hair, dark , flashing eyes, and a hands, with claw - like fingers tipped with
graceful bearing ; it is the Rev. Thomas dark crescents , —and I do not think the
Price, or, as his Welsh title has it, Car- picture will be a pleasant one. If the
nuhanawc. He is a thorough believer horrible-looking old fellow bad concealed
in the ultra -excellence of everything his ghastly eyes by colored glasses, the ef
Welsh ,—Welsh music, Welsh flannels, fect would not have been so disagreeable ;
Welsh scenery, Welsh mutton ; and so far but it was absolutely frightful to see him
as regards the latter, I am quite of his rolling his head, as he played, and every
opinion. After a very animated speech, now and then staring with the whites of
he directs the competitors on the triple his eyes full in the faces of his unseen
harp to stand forward and begin a har- audience. At length, greatly to my re
monious contest. lief, he gave the last decisive twang, and
There are three,-an old blind man , was led away by his wife. It is almost
a young man , and a girl some fourteen needless to say that the musical “ Bunch "
years ofage. Every one cheers the latter took the prize.
lustily, and “wishes she may get it.” So “ Penillionn Singing ” was the next at
do I, of course ; and I listen with great traction. This was something like an
interest as Miss Winifred Jenkins com- old English madrigal done into Welsh ,
mences her performance , which she does and, as a specimen of vocalization , pleas
without blush or hesitation, and with quite ing enough , — as pleasing, that is, as
an I -know -all-about-it sort of air. I for- Welsh singing can be to an English ear ;
get the particular piece the young lady but how different from the soft, liquid
played ; but upon it she extemporized Italian trillings, the flexible English war
80 many variations, that long before she ' blings, the melodious ballads of Scot
came to an ending I had lost all remem- land, or the rollicking songs of Ireland !
brance of the text from which she had There was only one of the many singers
deduced her melodious sermon . There I heard at the Festival who at all charmed
was, I thought, more mechanical tact me, and that was a little vocalist of much
than expression in her performance , but repute in Southern Wales for her bird
it was enthusiastically applauded for all like voice and brilliancy of execution.
that; and with an awkward curtsy - much Her professional name was pretty enough ,
like Sydney Smith's little servant-maid - Eos Vach Morganwg , — " The Little
-
552 A Welsh Musical Festival. [March,
Nightingale of Glamorgan .” Her render- and a nail in the gallery tront catching
ings of some simple Welsh melodies were his ancient robe, in a moment of fren
delicious; they as far excelled the out- zy, a fearful rending sound indicated
pourings of the other singers as the com- a solution of continuity, and exposed a
positions of Mendelssohn or Bellini sur- modern blue unbardic pair of breeches
pass a midnight feline concert. I have with bright brass buttons beneath ,-- an
heard Chinese singing, and have come incident in keeping with the sham nature
to the conclusion, that, next to it, Welsh of all the proceedings. For a mortal
prize- vocalism is the most ear distracting half hour this exhibition lasted, and
thing imaginable. when the impassioned speaker sat down ,
So it went on ; Welsh, Welsh, Welsh, panting and perspiring, the multitude
nothing but Welsh, until I was heartily stamped, clapped, and hallooed , and went
sick of it. Then, the singing part of the into such paroxysms of frenzy, that Bed
performance being concluded , the bardic lam broke loose could alone be compared
portion of the business commenced. It with it.
was conducted in this manner : During the three days the Festival
The names of several subjects were lasted , such scenes as I have described
written on separate slips of paper, and were repeated ,-the only changes be
these being placed in a box, each bard ing in the persons of the singers and
took one folded up and with but brief spouters. Glad enough was I when all
preparation was expected to extempo was over, and my occupation as re
rize a poem on the theme he had drawn. porter gone, for that time at least.
The contest speedily commenced, and With the aid of a Welsh friend I man
to me this part of the proceedings was aged to make a highly florid report of
far and away the most entertaining the proceedings, which occupied no less
Of course , being, as I said, ignorant of than eight columns of the “ M
the language, I could not understand the Beacon .” As several of the speakers
matter of the improvisations; but as for were only too glad to give me, sub rosa,
the manner, just imagine a mad North copies of their speeches in their native
American Indian, a howling and dancing language, and as none knew of that fact
Dervise, an excited Shaker, a violent but ourselves, I gained no little reputation
case of fever-and-ague, аa New York auc- as an accomplished Welsh scholar. The
tioneer, and a pugilist of the Tom Hyer result of this was, that presents of Welsh
school, all fused together, and you may Bibles, hymn-books, histories, topogra
form some faint idea of a Welsh bard in phies, and the like, by the score, were
the agony of inspiration. Such roaring forwarded to me, —some out of respect
such eye-rolling, such thumping of fists for my talents as a great Welsh linguist,
and stamping of feet, such joint-dislocat- others for review in the newspaper. I
ing action of the arins, such gyrations of was neither born to such greatness, nor
the head, such spasmodic jerkings-out of did I ever achieve it ; it was literally
the language of the ancient Britons, I thrust on me ; so also were sundry joints
never heard before, and fervently pray of the delicious Liliputian Welsh mut
that I never may again. And, let it be ton , which latter I am not ashamed to
remembered, the grotesque costume of say II thoroughly understood, appreciated,
the bard wonderfully heightened the ef- and digested. The ancient litter -ature,
fect. His long beard , made of tow, be- I am sorry to confess, I sold as waste
came matted with the saliva which ran paper, at so much per pound; but to show
down upon it from the corners of his that some lingering regard for at least
mouth ; his make-believe bald scalp was two of Cambria's institutions yet reigns
accidentally wiped to one side, as he in this bosom , I am just about to
mopped away the perspiration from his begin upon a Welsh rabbit, and wash it
forehead with aa red cotton handkerchief; down with a pitcher of cicrw dach.
1858.] Cornucopia. 553

CORNUCOPIA .

THERE's a lodger lives on the first floor,

(My lodgings are up in the garret,)
At night and at morn he taketh a horn
And calleth his ncighbors to share it,
A born so long, and a horn so strong,
I wonder how they can bear it.

I don't mean to say that he drinks,

For that were a joke or a scandal ;
But, every one knows it, he night and day blows it ;
I wish he'd blow out like a candle !
His horn is so long, and he blows it so strong,
He would make Handel fly off the handle.
By taking a horn I don't hint
That he swigs either rum , gin, or whiskey ;
It's we who drink in his din worse than gin,
His strains that attempt to be frisky,
But are grievously sad . - A donkey, I add,
Is as musical, braying in his key.
It's a puzzle to know what he's at ;
I could pity him , if it were madness :
I never yet knew him to play a tune through,
And it gives me more anger than sadness
To hear his horn stutter and stammer to utter
Its various abortions of badness.

At his wide open window he stands,

Overlooking his bit of a garden ;
One can see the great ass at one end of his brass,
Blaring out, never asking your pardon :
This terrible blurting he thinks is not hurting,
As long as his own ear-drums harden.

He thinks, I've no doubt, it is sweet,

While thus Time and Tune be is flaying;
The little house-sparrows feel all through their marrows
The jar and the fuss of his playing,
The windows all shaking, the babies all waking,
The very dogs howling and baying.
One note out of twenty he hits,
And, cheered, blows pianos like fortes.
His time is his own. He goes sounding alone,
(A sort of Columbus or Cortés )
On a perilous ocean , without any notion
Whereabouts in the dim deep his port is.
554 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ March,
Like a man late from club, he has lost
His key, and around stumbles moping,
Touching this, trying that, now a sharp, now a flat,
Till he strikes on the note he is hoping,
And aa terrible blare at the end of the air
Shows he's got through at last with his groping.
There, -he's finished, at least, for a while ;
He is tired , or come to his senses ;
And out of his horn shakes the drops that were borne
By the winds of his musical frenzies. .

There's a rest, thank our stars, of ninety -nine bars,

Ere the tempest of sound recommences.
When all the bad players are sent
Where all their false notes are protested ,
I am sure that Old Nick will play him a trick,
When his bad trump and he are arrested, 1
And down in the regions of Discord's own legions
His head with two French horns be crested.

MY JOURNAL TO MY COUSIN MARY.

Call up to your mind what II was, and

March, 1855. what my circumstances were . I was
Of all the letters of condolence I have healthy and strong. I could run , and
received since my misfortune, yours has wrestle, and breast strong winds, and
consoled me most. It surprises me, I cleave rough waters, and climb steep
confess, that a far-away cousin- of whom hills,—things I shall henceforth be able
I only remember that she had the sweet- only to remember, -yes, and to sigh to
est of earthly smiles - should know better do again.
how to reach the heart of my grief and I was thoroughly educated for my pro
soothe it into peace, than any nearest of fession . I was panting to fulfil its duties
kin or oldest of friends. But so it has and rise to its honors. I was beginning
been, and therefore I feel that your more to make my way up. I had gained one
intimate acquaintance would be some- cause, -my first and last, -- and my friends
thing to interest me and keep my heart thought me justified in entertaining the
above despair . highest hopes.
My sister Catalina, my devoted nurse, It had always been an object of am
says I must snatch at anything likely to bition with me to well, I will confess
do that, as a drowning man catches at to be popular in society ; and I know I
straws, or I shall be overwhelmed by this was not the reverse . So much, Mary,
calamity. But is it not too late ? Am I for what I was. Now see what I am .
not overwhelmed ? I feel that life is a I am , and shall forever be,—so the doc
revolting subject of contemplation in my tors tell me,–a miserable, sickly, helpless
circumstances, a poor thing to look for being, without hope of health or inde
ward to Death itself looks pleasanter. pendence . My object in life can only
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 555

be — to be comfortable, if possible, and had received only a slight cut upon the
not to be an intolerable trial to those forehead .
about me ! Worth living for, -isn't it ? Of course I don't mean to bore you
An athlete, eager and glowing in the with a recital of all my sufferings through
race of life, transformed by a thunder- those winter months. I don't ask your
bolt into a palsied and whining cripple compassion for such trifles as bodily pain ;
for whom there is no Pool of Bethesda , but for what I am , and must forever be
that is what has befallen me ! in this life, my own heart aches for pity.
I suppose you read the shocking de- Let yours sympathize with it.
tails of the collision in the papers. Cata- I thought to be so active, so useful,
lina and I sat, of course , side by side in perhaps so distinguished as a man, so
the cars. We had that day met New blest as husband and father for you
York, after a separation of years. She must know how from my boyhood up I
had just returned from Europe. I went have craved , what I have never had, a
to meet and escort her bome, and, as we home.
whirled over the Jersey sands, I told her Now that I have been thrust out of
of all my plans and hopes. She listened active life and forced to make up my
at first with her usual lively interest ; but mind to perfect passiveness, I have be
as I went on, she looked me full in the come a bugbear to myself. I cannot en
face with an air of exasperated endur- dure the thought of ever being the peev
ance, as if what I proposed to accomplish ish egotist, the exacting tyrant, which
were beyond reason . I own that I was men are apt to become when they are
in a fool's paradise of buoyant expecta thrown upon woman's love and long-suf
tion. At last she interrupted me. fering, as I am .
“ Ah, yes ! No doubt ! You'll do those My only safeguard is, I believe, to
trifles, of course ! And, perhaps, among keep up interests out of myself, and I
your other plans and intentions is that of beg of you to help me. I believe im
living forever ? It is an easy thing to re- plicitly in your expressed desire to be of
solve upon ;-better not stop short of it. ” some service to me, and I ask you to un
At this instant came the crash, and I dertake the troublesome task of corre
knew nothing more until I heard people spondence with a sick man , and almost a
remonstrating with Kate for persisting in stranger. I will, however, try to make
trying to revive a dead man , (myself,) you acquainted with myself and my sur
while the blood was flowing profusely roundings, so thoroughly that the latter
from her own wound. I heard her in- difficulty will soon be obviated .
dignantly deny that I was dead, and, First, let me present my sister,-named
with her customary irritability, tell them Catalina,-called Kate, Catty, or Lina,
that they ought to be ashamed of them according to the fancy of the moment,
selves for saying so. They still insisted or the degree of sentimentality in the
that I was “ a perfect jelly,” and could speaker. You have not seen her since
not possibly survive, even if I came to she was a child, so that, of course , you
consciousness. She contradicted them cannot imagine her as she is now . But
energetically. Yet they pardoned, and you know the circumstances in which
liked her. They knew that a tond heart our parents left us. You remember,
keenly resents evil prophecies of its be- that, after living all his life in care
loved ones. Besides, whatever she does less luxury, my father died penniless.
or says, people always like Kate. Our mother had secured her small for
After a physician arrived, it was found tune for Kate ; and at her death, just
that the jellying of my flesh was not the before my father's, she gave me—an in
worst of it ; for, in consequence of some fant a few weeks old - into my sister's
injury to my spine, my lower limbs were young arms, with full trust that I should
paralyzed. My sister, thank Heaven, be taken care of by her. You know of
556 My Journal to my cousin Mary. [ March,
all my obligations to her in my baby- we feel that the higher you raise your
hood and for my education, which she selves, the higher you place us. You
drudged at teaching for years to obtain can't help owning that angelic woman
for me .
I could never repay her for kind submits and gladly — to us."
such devotion, but I hoped to make her Nonsense ! conceited nonsense ! "
forget all her trials, and only retain the “ But don't they ? "
happy consciousness of having had the “ Some do ; but I do not. "
making of such a famous man ! I ex- “ Why, all my life you have been to
pected to place her in affluence, at least. me a most devoted, obedient servant,
And now what can I bring to her but Kate . ”
grief and gray hairs ? I am dependent “Yes, I have my pets,” she answered,
upon her for my daily bread ; I occupy " and I care for them . I am housemaid
all her time, either in nursing or sewing to my bird ; my cat makes her bed of my
for me ; I try her temper hourly with lap and my best silk dress ; I am purvey
my sick -man's whims; and I doom her toor to my dog, head -scratcher to my par
a future of care and economy. Yet I rot, and so forth. It is my pleasure to
believe in my soul that she blesses me be kind . Higher natures always are
every time she looks upon me ! 80,—yes, Charlie, even minutely solicit
Thackeray says women like to be mar- ous for the welfare of the objects of their
tyrized. I hardly think it is the pursuit care ; for are not the very hairs of our
of pleasure which leads them to self- head all numbered by the Most Benefi
denial. Men , at any rate, do not often cent ? "
seek enjoyment in that form . If women She began in playful insolence, but
do make choice of such aa class of delights, ended with tearful eyes, and a grateful,
even instinctively, they need advance no humble glow upon her face. Its like I
other claim to superiority over men. had never seen before in her rather im
The higher the animal, the higher its perious countenance. I gazed at her
propensities with interest. She saw me, and was
Kate the other day was asserting a irritated to be caught with moistened
wife's right to the control of her own eyes. She scorns crying, like a man .
property, and incidentally advocating “ Come, come! ” said she, childishly
the equality of the sexes,- a touchy and snappishly, “ what are you looking
point with her. I put in , at ? "
“Tell me, then , Lina, why animals Of course you cannot have any idea
form stronger attachments to men than of her personal appearance from mem
to women . Your dog, your parrot, even ory, and I will try to give you one by
your cat, already prefers me to you. description.
How can you account for it, unless by Though over thirty, she is generally
allowing that there is more in us to considered very handsome, and is in the
respect and love ? " very prime of her beauty ; for it is not
“ I account for it," said she, with her of the fragile, delicate order. She has
66
most decided nod, “ by affinity. There jet-black, very abundant hair, hazel eyes,
is more affinity between you and brutes. and a complexion that is very fair, with
It is the sons of God who find the daugh- out being blonde. A bright, healthy color
ters of men fair. We draw angels from in cheek and lip makes her look as fresh
the skies ;—even your jealous, reluctant as a rose . Her nose is the doubtful fea
sex has borne witness to that. " ture. It is-hum !- Roman, and some
“ Pshaw ! only those anomalous crea- fastidious folks think a trifle too large.
tures, the poets. But please yourself But I think it suits well her keen eyes
with such fancies ; they encourage a and slightly haughty mouth. She has
pretty pride that becomes your sex . fine hands, a tall figure, and an inde
Conscious forever of being your lords, pendent “ grand action ,” that is not want
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 557

ing in grace, but is more significant of you , I think, belong to that order. How
prompt energy ever, I should not class you with her ,
The study of woman is a new one to for Kate says she was a “ deceitful thing."
me. I often see Kate's friends and gos-She may have been so, for aught I know ;
sips,— for I occupy the parlor as sick- but I hold it as my creed , that there are
room , -- and I lie philosophizing upon some women all softness, all gentleness, .

them by the hour, puzzling myself to all purity, all loveableness, and yet all
solve the problem of their idiosyncrasies. strength of principle. Kate says, if there
Lady Mary Wortley Montague said, that, are men all courage, all chivalry, all
in all her travels, she had met with but ardor, and all virtue, I may be right.
two kinds ofpeople, -men and women . I The Germans say, Give the Devil a
begin to think that one sex will never be hair, and he will get your whole head ."
thoroughly comprehended by the other, Luckily it is the same with the good an
notwithstanding the desperate efforts the gels. I have seen a hundred examples
novelists are making now -a-days. They to prove it true. I will give the one
gll go upon the same plan. They take nearest my heart.
some favorite woman , watch her habits Lina's generous aspiration at the birth
keenly, dissect her, analyze her very of her baby brother was the hair. Since
blood and marrow ,—then patch her up then, the angel of generosity has drawn
again, and set her in motion by galvan- her on from one self-denying deed to an
ism . She stalks through three volumes other, until he has possessed her utterly.
and - drops dead. I have seen Kate Her self-sacrifice was completed some
laugh herself almost into convulsions weeks ago. I will tell you how , -- for her
over the knowing remarks upon the sex light shall not be hidden under aa bushel
in Thackeray, Reade, and others. And When I arrived at this, her little cot
I must confess that the women I know tage home, after the accident, it was found
resemble those of no writer but Shak- impossible to get me up stairs. So I have
speare. since occupied the parlor as my sick
We take our revenge for this irritating room , — having converted a large airy
incapacity by saying that neither can china-closet into a recess for a bed, and
women create ideal men at all resembling banished the dishes to the kitchen dress
reality. But halte là ! Was it not said er. During the day I occupy a soft hair
at first that Rochester must be a man's cloth -covered couch, and from it I can
man ? Is not the little Professor Paul cominand, not a view, but a hearing, of
Emanuel an actual masculine creature ? the two porches, the ball, and the garden .
Heathcliff was a fiend , but a male fiend . The day after my return was a soft,
But where am I wandering ? To come warm day ; and though it was in Febru
back to my sister. She is a fair speci- ary , the windows were all open. I heard
men of the quick, impulsive, frank class a light carriage drive up to the front
of women . She says she belongs to the door, and supposing it to be the doctor,
genus irritabile. She is easily excited to I awaited his entrance with impatience.
every good emotion, and also to the nobler After some time I discovered that he
failings of anger, indignation, and pride.was with Kate in the garden, and I could
But she is so far above any meanness hear their voices. I listened with all my
or littleness, that she don't know them ears, that I might steal his true opinion
when she sees them. They pass with her of myself; for I concluded that Kate wag
for what they are not, and she is spared having a private consultation , and ar
the humiliation of knowing what her spe- ranging plans by which I was to be bol
cies is capable of. Kate's nature is very stered up with prepared accounts, and
charming, but there is a gentler, calmer not told the plain facts of the case. I had
order of beings in the sex. I once was before suspected that they did not tell me
greatly attracted by one of them ; and the worst. I could just catch my name
558 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ March ,
now and then , but no more ; and I wish- final parting, and her heart was full of
ed heartily that they were a little nearer love and sorrow ; while in his there linger
the windows. They must be, I thought, ed both hope and anger ,—hope that I
quite at the bottom of the garden. Sud- would recover, and release ber, resent
denly I perceived that the voice address- ment because she could sacrifice him to
me .
ing my sister was one of impassioned
persuasion, and I heard the words, “ Be And yet, after the parting, Kate bad
calın and reasonable ,” — “ Not forever. ” but just turned from him , when a change
Then Kate said, with a burst of sobs, came over his countenance, at first of
“ Only in heaven .” enthusiastic admiration , then of a yet
“ It is all over with me, then ," I thought, more burning pain. He walked quickly
aghast. But having settled it, after a after her, caught her in his arms, and
struggle, to be the best thing both for me dashing away tears, that they might not
and Kate, I began to listen again. They fall upon her face, he kissed her passion
were quite silent for some moments. ately, and said, “ It is hard that I must
Then I heard sounds which surprised me, say it, but you are right, Lina ! Oh, my
-low , loving tones, —and I desperately God ! must I lose such a woman ?”
wrenched myself upon my elbows to look Kate, trembling, panting, stamped her
out. The agony of such effort was more foot and cried, “ Go, go !—I cannot stand
tolerable than the agony of suspense. it !-go !” Ah, Mary ! that poor, pale
They were not far off, as I supposed , but face ! He went. Kate made one quick,
close under the window , standing in the terrified, instantly restrained motion of
little box - tree arbor, screened from all recall, which he did not sce ; but I did ,
eyes but mine ; and no doubt Kate be- and I fainted with the pang it gave me.
lieved herself safe enough from these, as When I recovered consciousness, I
I had never been capable of such exer- found my sister bending over me, blam
tion since the accident. Their low tones ing herself for neglecting me for so long
had deceived me as to their distance. a time, and calling herself a cruel, faith
I was mistaken in another respect. It less nurse, with acute self-reproach ! —
was not the doctor with Kate, but a fine- There's woman for you !
looking man, whose emotion declared him I told her what I had overheard, and
her lover. His arm held her, and hers protested against what she had done. She
rested upon his shoulder, as she looked said I must not talk now ,-I was too ill ;
up at him and spoke earnestly. His face she would listen to me to -morrow . The
expressed the greatest alarm and grief. next day I broached the subject again,
I do not know where she found the reso- as she sat by my side, reading the even
lution , while looking upon it, to do what ing paper. She put her finger on a par
she did ; for, Mary,–I can hardly bear to agraph and handed it to me. I read
write it, - I heard her forever renounce that one of the steamships had sailed at
her love and happiness for my sake. twelve o'clock that day. “ He is in it, "
I might then have cried out against Kate said, and left the room . — He is in
this self-sacrifice ; but there is something Europe by this time.
sacred in such an interview, and I could Helpless wretch that I am !
not thrust myself upon it. I wish now Are not Kate's whole head and heart,
that I had done so. But then I listened and all, under the dominion of Heaven's
in silence -- grief-struck - to the rejection best angels ?
, o the farewells. I
of him she loved t
saw the long -clasped hands severed with II.

an effort and a shudder ; I saw my March , 1855.

proud sister offer and give a kiss far And now, dear Mary, I intend to let
more fervent than that which she receiv . you into our household affairs. This ill
ed in return ;—for she felt that this was a ness has brought me one blessing,-- a
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 559

home. It has plunged me into the bos- alone no more.” — A novel reason to hear
om of domestic life, and I find things given, but a true one in philosophy.
there exceedingly amusing. Things This “ chance " was when my sister was
commonplace to others are very novel attacked with cholera once, in the first
and interesting to me, from my long resi- panic caused by it, of late years. All
dence in hotels, and perfect ignorance her friends brad fled to the country, and
of how the pot was kept boiling from she was quite alone in a boarding-house.
which my dinners came. I was at college. She would have been
But before you enter the house, take a left to die alone, so great was the fear of
look at the outside, and let me localize the discase, if Saide, who was cook in the
myself in your imagination. Bosky Dell establishment, had not boiled over with
is a compact little place of ten acres, cov- indignation, and addressed her selfish
ered mostly with a dense grove, and cut mistress in this fashion :
66
into two unequal parts by a brawling, That ar' young lady's not to have
rocky stream . The house - a little cot- no carc, nohow , took of her, a'n't she ?
tage, draped with vines, and porched— She's to be lef' there a -sufferin ' all alone
sits on a slope, with an orchard on one that-a -way, is she ? I guess so too ! Hnb !
side, a tiny lawn bordered with flowers Now I'se gwine to nuss her, and I don't
on another, the shade of the grove dark- keer if you don't know nothin' about
ening the windows of a third, and on culining, you must get yer own dinpas
the fourth a kitchen -garden with straw-
a and breakwusses and suppas. That's the
berry -beds and grape-trellises. It is a plain English of it,-leastways till she's
pretty little place, and full of cosy cor well ag’in."
ners. My favorite one I must describe . She devoted herself night and day to
It is a porch on the south side of the Kate for several weeks, and then accom
house, between two projections. Con- panied her to this house, as a matter of
sequently both ends of it are closed ; one, course , She is a privileged personage.
by the parlor wall, in which there is a She often pops her head out of the kitch
window ,-and the other, by the kitchen en window to favor us with her remarks.
window and wall. It is quite shut in As they always make us laugh, she won't
from winds, and the sun beams pleas- take reproofs upon that subject. Kate
antly upon it, these chilly March days. says her impertinence is intolerable, but
There is just room enough for my couch, suffers it rather than resort to severit
Kate's rocking -chair, and a little table. with her old benefactress. I enjoy it.
Here we sit all the morning ,-Kate sew- She manages to turn her humor to
ing, I reading, or watching the sailing account in various ways. I heard her
clouds, the swelling tree-buds in the exclaim ,
grove, and the crocus-sprinkled grass, “ Laws-a -me ! Dere goes de best
which is growing greener every day. French -chayny gold -edged tureen all to
Thus, while busy with me, Kate can smash ! Pieces not big enough to save !
still have an eye to her kitchen , and we Laws now , do let me study how to
both enjoy the queer doings and sayings tell de folks, so's to set ' em larfin '.
of our “ culled help,” Saide. She be- Dere's great ' casion to find suthin' as 'll
came Kate's servant under an induce- do it, 'cause dey thinks a heap o' dis
ment which I will give in her own yere, ole chayny. Mr. Charley now ,
words. he's easy set off ; but Miss Catline, she
66
Massy ! Miss Catline, when I does a takes suthin' purty 'cute ! Laws, I has
pusson a good turn, seems like I wants to fly roun' to git dat studied out ! ”
to keep on doin''cm good turns. I didn't Kate overheard this ;-how could she
do so drefile much for you , but I jes got scold ?
one chance to help you a bit, and seems Saide can never think unless she is
like I couldn't be satisfactioned to let you "flyin' roun '” ; and whenever there is a
560 My Journal to my cousin Mary. [March,
great tumult in the kitchen, pans kicked own industrious hands, what he calls
about, tongs falling, dishes rattling, and a “ jaunting -car -r-r-r.” It is a large
table shoved over the floor, something wheeled couch on springs. I am
pretty good , in the shape either of a house-prisoner no longer !
bonne-bouche or a bon -mol, is sure to I think the first ride I took in it was
turn up. the most exciting event of my life. I
This morning there was a furious hub- was not exactly conscious of being inor
bub, that threatened to drown my voice. tally tired of looking from the same
Saide was evidently “flyin' roun ', ” and porch, over the same garden, into the
Kate, who could not hear half that I same grove, and up to the same quarter
read, got out of patience. of the heavens, for so many months; but
“ What is the matter ? " she asked, when the change came unexpectedly, it
raising the sash of the window . was transporting happiness.
“ I on'y wants the currender, ( col- I suppose it may be so when we enter
ander,) Miss Catline , -dat's all, Miss.” a future life. While here, we think we
-

“ Well, does it take a whirlwind to do not want to go elsewhere ,-even to

produce it ? " a better land ; but when we reach that
“ Oh, laws, Miss Catline! Don't be shore, we shall probably acknowledge it
dat funny now, don't !-yegh ! yegh ! to be a lucky change.
I'se find it presentry. I'se on'y a little Ben drew me carefully down the gar
frustrated, ( Alustered,) Miss, with de 'fu- den -path. I inhaled the breath of the
sion, and I'se jes a -studyin '. Never tulips and hyacinths, as we passed them .
mind me, Miss, -dat's all, indeed it is, I longed to stay there in that fairy land,
- and you'll have a fuss - rate minch-pie for they brought back all the unspeak
for dinner. I guess so, too ! - yegh ! ably rapturous feelings of my boyhood.
yegh ! ” — And so we had. Strange that such delight, after we bo
Kate's domestics stand in much awe come men, never visits us except in
of her, but feel at least equal love. So moments brief as lightning-flashes,—and
that hers is a household kept in good then generally only as a memory,—not,
arder, with very little of the vexation, as when we were children, in the form
annoyance, and care, I hear so many of of a hope ! When we are boys, and sud
her married friends groaning about. den joy stirs our hearts, we say, « Oh ,
how grand life will be !" When we are
April. men , and are thus moved, it is, “ Ah,
For a month nearly, Kate has forbid- how bright life was ! ”
den my writing, and the first part of Ben did not pause in the hyacintb
this letter was not sent ; so I will finish bed with me. He was anxious to prove
it now. My sister thought the effort of the excellence of his vehicle ; so he
holding a pen, in my recumbent position , dragged me on in it, until we had
was too wearying to me ; but now I am nearly reached the boundary of our
stronger, and can sit up supported by grounds, where the two tall, ragged old
cedar - trees marked the extreme point
pillows. I hasten to tell you of another
most important addition to my comfort, of the evergreen shrubbery, and the
which has been made since I wrote last. view of the neighborhood lies before us.
I am so eager with the news, that I can He stopped there and said ,-
hardly hold a steady pen. Isn't this a “ Ye'll mappen like to look abroad a
fine state for a promising young lawyer bit, and I'se go on to the post-office.
to be reduced to ? He is wild with ex- Miss Kathleen bid me put you here for
citement, because some one has given nenst the landskip , and then leave ye .
him a new go-cart! She was greatly fashed at the coompany
Ben, the gardener, was that indulgent cooming just then. ' I must go, Sir. ”
66
individual. He made for me, with his All right, Ben. You need not hurry ."
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 561

The fresh morning wind whisked up to On my left lay " a little lane serene, "
me and kissed my face bewitchingly, as with stone fences balf hid by blackberry
Ben removed his tall, burly form from the bushes,
narrow opening between the two trees, “ A little lane serene,
and left ine alone there in the shade, Smooth- hcaped from wall to wall with an .
broken snows,
with nothing between me and the view.
That moment revealed to me the joy Or in the summer blithe with Inmb-cropped
green ,
of all liberated prisoners. My eyes flew Save the one track , where naught more rude
over the wide earth and the broad heav. is seen
ens. After a sweeping view of both in Than the plump wain at even
their vast unity, I began to single out Bringing home four months' sunshine bound
in sheaves ."
particulars. There lay the village in the
lap of the hills, in summer time" bosom- I thought of those lines there and then,
ed high in tufted trees, ” but now only half and they enhanced even the joy of Na
veiled by the gauze-like green of the bud- turc. They tinged her for me with the
ding foliage. The apple orchards, still magic colors of poetry.
white with blossoms, and green with When I had thus scrutinized earth, I
wheat or early grass, extended up the looked up to heaven. It had been so long
hills, and encroached upon the dense shut from me by the network of the grove,
brown forests. There was the little red that it was like escaping from confining
brick turret which crowned the village toils, to look straight into Heaven's face,
church, and my eye rested lovingly upon with nothing between, not even a cloud.
it. Not that it was anything to me ; but I have never seen a sweeter, calmer
Kate and all the women I respect love it, picture than that I gazed upon all the
or what it stands for, and through them I morning, and for which the two huge old
hope to experience that warm love of cedars formed a rugged, but harmonious
worship, and of the places dedicated to it, frame.
which seems native to them , and much to I have lived out of doors since. When
be desired for us. I have cared little for it is cold , I am wrapped in a wadded
such things hitherto . Their beauty and robe Kate has made for me, -a capital
bappiness are just beginning to dawn up- thing, loose, and warm , and silky-soft.
on me. To an invalid with nerves all on edge,
-“ Dear Jesus, can it be ? that is much. I never found out, until
Wait we till all things go from us or e'er we Kate enveloped me in its luxurious folds,
go to thee ? what it was that rasped my feelings so,
Ay, sooth ! We feel such strength in weal, every morning, when I was dressed ; I
thy love may seem withstood : then knew it must have been my flashy
But what are we in agony ? Dumb, if we woollen dressing-gown. I envy women
cry not ' God ! ' "
their soft raiment, and I rather dread the
Behind the village I can see the blue day when I shall be compelled to wear
coats again. (Let me cheat myself, if I
hazy line of a far -distant horizon , as the
valley opens in that direction. I know can.)
the sea lies there, and sometimes I fancy III.
that mirage lifts its dark waters to my May, 1866.
sight. You wish to know more of Ben. I
In a wooded nook on my right stands am glad of it. You shall be immediate
the little brown mill, with its huge wheel, ly gratified.
and wide blue pond, and foamy waterfall. IIe is aa true Scot, tall and strong and
On that day I heard its drone, and saw sandy-haired, with quick gray eyes, and
the geese bathing, and throwing up the a grave countenance, which relaxes only
bright sparkling drops with their wings, upon very great provocation.
until they fell like fountains. Before I came here, he was known
VOL . I. 36
562 My Journal to my Cousin Mary.
simply as a most careful, industrious,
silent, saving machine, which cared not a
jot for anybody in particular, but never
wanted any spur to its own mechanical
duty. It was never known to do a turn
of work not legitimately its own, though
mathematically exact in its proper office.
But after I came here with my sister, a
helpless cripple, we found out that the
mathematical machine was a man, with a
soft, beating heart. He was called upon
to lift me from the carriage, and he did it (mony ane bad fetched a dollar.) forbye
as tenderly as a woman . He took me
up as a mother lifts her child from the
cradle, and I reposed passively in his
strong arms, with a feeling of perfect se-
curity and ease .
From that day to this, Ben has been a
most devoted friend to inc. He watches
for opportunities to do ne kindnesses, ten dollar the pair, and could be had for
and takes from his own sacred time to
make me comforts. He has had me in
bis arms a hundred times, and carries me
from bed to couch like a baby. I posi-
tively blush in writing this to you. You
have known me to be a man for years,
and here I am in arms again !
Ben's decent, well -controlled self -satis-
faction , which almost amounts to dignity,
is gone like a puff of smoke, at the word
“ Shanghai.” Poor fellow ! He once had
the hen -fever badly, and he don't like to
recall his sufferings.
The first I know of it was by his start-
ing and changing color one day, when I radiant grin, and invited inspection of
was reading the news froin China to
Kate in the garden , he being engaged in
tying up a rose-bush close by. Kate saw
his confusion, and smiled . Ben, catching
the expression of her face, looked incon-
ceivably sheepish . He dropped his ball
of twine, and was about to go away , but
thinking better of it, he suddenly turned
and said, with a grin and a blush , —
“ Ye'll be telling on me, Miss Kathleen !
so l’se be aforehond wi' yc, and let Mr.
Charlie knaw the warst frac my ain con-
fassion, if he will na grudge me a quarter
hour .”
I signified my wish to hear, and with
much difficulty and many questions
wrung from him his “ confassion .” Kate
[ March,
afterwards gave me ber version, and the
facts were these :
He persuaded Kate to let him buy a
pair of Shanghais.
“ But don't do it unless you are sure
of its being worth while,” Kate charged
66
him ; " because I can't afford to be mak
ing expensive experiments.”
Ben counted out upon his fingers the
numberless advantages.
“ First, the valie o' the eggs for sale,
the ecavnomy in size for cooking, one
shell hauding the meat o'twa common
eggs. Second, the size o' the chickens
for table, each hen the weight o'a turkey.
Third, for speculation. Let the neebors
buy, and she could realize sixty dollar on
the brood o' twal chicks ; for they fetched
nae less onywheres. Every hen wad hae
twa broods at the smallest.”
Kate doubted, but handed over the
money. The next day she was awaked
from a nap on the parlor sofa by a most
unearthly music. There was one bar of
four notes, first and third accented ; bar
second, a crescendo on a long swelled
note,
66
then a decrescendo equally long.
“ Why," she cried, “ is that our little
bull-calf practising singing ? I shall let
Barnum know about him . He'll make
my fortune ! ”
Ben knocked at the door, presented a
his Shanghais. Kate went with him to
the cellar . There stood two feathered
bipeds on their tip-toes, with their giraffe
necks stretched up to my sister's swing
ing shelf where the cream and butter
were kept. It spoke well for the size of
their craws certainly , that , during the two
minutes Ben was away , they had each
devoured a “print ” of butter, about half
a pound !
“ Saw ye ever the like o' thae birds,
Miss Kathleen ? ” began Ben , proudly.
“ My butter, my butter ! ” cried Kate.
Ben ran to the rescue, and having re
moved everything to the high shelf, he
came back, saying, -
“ It was na their faut.
66
I tak shame
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 563

for not minding that they are so gay tall. Poor Ben ! That was not all. The
But did ye ever see the like o' yon clumsy, heavy Empress stepped upon
rooster ? " her egg , and broke it in the second week
Indeed, she never had ! The frightful of its existence ; but, faithful to its mem
monster, with its bob -tail and boa-con ory, she refused to forego the duties of
strictor neck ! But she said nothing. maternity, and would persist in staying
Ben named them the Emperor and on her nest. As the season advanced,
Empress. They were not to be allowed Ben lost hope of the second brood he
to walk with common fowls, and he soon had counted upon . In short, bis Em
had a large, airy house made for them . press had the legitimate “ hen -fever, "
He watched these creatures with inces and it carried her off, though Ben tried
sant devotion, and one morning he was numberless remedies in common use for
beside himself with delight, for, by a most vulgar fowls, such as pumping upon her,
hideous roaring on the part of the Em- whirling her by one leg, tying red flan
peror, and a vigorous cackling, which nel to her tail, and so forth . Of course
Ben, very descriptively, called “ scraugh- such indignities were fatal to royalty, and
ing,” by the Empress, it was announced Ben gave up all hopes of a purc race of
that she had laid an egg ! Shanghais.
Etiquette required Kate to call and ad- The Emperor was then set at liberty,
mire this promise of royal offspring, and and for one short half-hour strutted like
she was surprised into genuine admiration a giant-hero among the astounded hens.
when she saw the prodigy. Her nose had But no sooner did the former old cock
to lower its scornful turn, her lips to re- who had game blood in him , repute said
lax their skeptical twist. It was an egg -return from a distant excursion into
indeed ! Ben was nobly justified in his the cornfields with his especial favorites
purchase. His step was light that day. about him , and behold the mighty majes
Kate heard him singing, over and over ty of the monster, than his pride and ire
again, a verse from an old song which he blazed up. He put his head low, ruffled
had brought with him from the land o' out his long neck -feathers, his eyes wink
cakes : ed and snapped fire with rage, he set out
“ I hae a hen wi' a happity leg, his wings, took a short run , and, throwing
(Lass, gin ye loe me, tell me noo,) up his spurs with fury, struck the stupid,
And ilka day she lays me an egg staring Emperor a blow under the ear
( And I canna come ilka day to woo ! )" which laid bim low. Alas for royalty,
Wooing any lass would, just now, have opposed to force of will !
been quite as secondary an affair with “ And you had to pocket the loss,
the singer as in the song ,-a something Kate ? ” I said.
par parenthèse. " It was my gain,” she replied. “Ben
But, alas ! Ben's face was more dubi- had always been dictatorial before ; but
ous the next day, and before the week after that, I had only to smile to remind
was over it was yard -long. The Em- him of his fallibility, and I have been
press, after that one great effort, laid no mistress here ever since. " .
more eggs, but duly began her second So far had I written when your wel
duty, sitting. There was no doubt that come letter arrived . Kate found me
she meant to have but one chick , -out of this morning sighing over it, pen in
rivalry, perhaps, with the Pynchon hen. hand, ready to reply. She put on her
It was gratifying, perhaps, to have her imperious look, and said she forbade my
so aristocratic, but it was not exactly writing, if I grew gloomy over it. She
profitable as a speculation . feared my letters were only the outpour
66
“ Ben ," said Kate, dryly, “ I don't know ings of a disappointed spirit. Indul
that that egg was wonderfully large, as gence in grief she considered weak,
it contained the whole brood ! ” foolish , unprincipled, and egotistical.
564 My Journal to my cousin Mary. [Marc!,
“ I can't help being egotistical,” I re- gone, and then have the pang, far worse
plied, “ when I see no one, and am shut than any other I could suffer, of leaving
up in the little world of me,' as closely you quite alone in the world . Do listen
as mouse in trap. And with myself to reason ! "
for a subject, what can my letters be She sat thinking. At last she said ,
but melancholy ? ” “ Well, wait one year.”
“ Anybody can write amusing letters, “ That would be nonsensical procrasti
if they choose,” said Kate, reckless both nation. Docs not the doctor declare that
of fact and grammar . a year will not better my condition ? ”
66
Unless I make fun of you, what else * But he cannot be sure. And I proin
bave I to laugh at ? ” ise you, Charlie, that, if Mr. -
asks
Well, do ! Make fun of me to your me then, I will think about it,-and if
heart's content! Who cares ? ' you are better, go with him . More I
.

“ You promise to laugh with us, and will not promise."

not be offended ? " “ A year from last February, you
" I promise not to be offended . My mean ? " - A pause .
laughing depends upon your wit. " “ Encroacher ! Yes, then .”
“ There is no mirth left in me, Kate. “ And you will write to him to say
I am convinced that I ought to say with SO ? ”
6
Jacques, “ ' Tis good to be sad, and say “ Indeed ! That would be pretty be
nothing." " havior ! ”
" Then I shall answer as Rosalind “ But as you rejected him decidedly,
did, — Why, then , ' tis good to be a post !' he may form new She clapped
No, no, Charlie, do be merry. Or if her hand upon my mouth.
you cannot, just now, at least encourage “Dare to say it ! ” she cried.
" a most humorous sadness ,' and that I removed her hand, and said , eagerly,
will be the first step to real mirth . " “ Now , Kate, do not trifle. I must have
>

" I shall never be merry again, Lina, some certainty that I am not wrecking
till you let me recall Mr. That your happiness. I cannot wait a year in
care weighs me down, and I truly believe suspense. I am a man . I have not the
retards my recovery." patience of your incomprehensible sex. ”
“ Hush, Charlie !” she said , imperiously. “ I have more than patience to support
“ Now , dear Kate, do not be obstinate. me, Charlie,” she whispered. " He in
My position is too cruel. With the alle- sisted upon refusing to take a positive
viation of knowing your happiness se- answer then, and said he should return
cure , I could bear my lot. But now it is again next spring, to see if I were in the
intolerable, utterly ! " same mind. atSo be ” ease !
She was silent. I sighed, unsatisfied .
“ You must give me that consolation ." “ I am sure he will come, ” she said,
“ To say I would ever leave you, Char- turning quite away, that I might not
lie, while you are so helpless, would be dwell upon her warm blush.
to tell a lie, for I could not do it. Mr. “ There is Ben with the horse. Are
is a civil engineer. He is always you ready ? ” she asked, glad to change
travelling about. I should have no set- the subject.
tled home to take you to. How can you I was always ready for that. I had en
suppose I would abandon you ? Do you joyed the “ jaunting -car-r-r ” so much, that
think I could find any happiness after my sister, resolved to gratify me further,
doing it ? Let us be silent about this.” had made comfortable arrangements for
“ I will not, Kate. I am sure, that, be- longer excursions. I found that I could
sides being a selfish, it would be aa foolish sit up, if well supported by pillows ; and
thing . to submit to you in this matter. 80 Kate had her “ cabriolet” brought out
I shall linger, perhaps, until your youth is and repaired.
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 565

She had not the least idea of what Kate says he is very nervous, and he
a cabriolet might be, when she named might be startled, and then we might find
her vehicle so ; but it sounded fine and it impossible to stop him ,-a thing easy
foreign, and was a sort of witty contrast cnough hitherto .
to the missbapen affair it represented. I am obliged to keep the purse in iny
It was indescribable in form , but had hand all the time, there being such fre
qualities which recommended it to me. quent use for it. Kate says,
It was low , wide-scated , high -backed, “ Give the man a half-dime, Charlie,
broad , and long. The front wheels turn- if you can find one. A three -cent piece
ed under, which was a lucky circum- looks mean , you know ; and a fip mounts
stance, as Kate was to be driver. Ben up so , it is rather extravagant. That is
could not be spared from his work, and the twelfth fip that man has had this
I was out of the question. week, and for only holding up a bucket
We have a horse to match this unique a half -minute at a time ; for Soldier on
affair, called “ Old Soldier,”" -an
– excellent ly takes one swallow .”
name for him ; though, if Kate reads this She will pay every time we stop, if it
remark , she will take mortal offence at it. is six times a day.
She calls the venerable fellow her charg- “ Shall I give the man a half -dollar at
er, because he makes such bold charges at once , " I ask, “ and let that do for a
the steep hills,—the only occasions upon week ? "
which the cunning beast ever exerts him- 66
· No, indeed ! How mean I should
self in the least, well knowing that he feel, sneaking off without paying ! "
will be instantly reined in. Kate has a When the roadside shows a patch of
horror of going out of a walk, on either tender grass, Kate eyes it, and checks
ascent or descent, because “ up-hill is Soldier's pace. He knows what that
such bard pulling, and down -hill so dan- means, and edges toward the tempting
gerous ! ” herbage.
Old Soldier can discern a grade of “ Poor fellow ! ” his driver says," it is
five feet to the mile of either. If I did like our having to pass a plate of peach
not know his history, (an old omnibus es . Let him have a bite ."
horse,) I should say he must have prac- And so we wait while he grazes awhile.
tised surveying for years. He accommo- It is the same thing when we cross a
dates himself most obligingly to his mis- brook, and Soldier pauses in it to cool
tress's whims, and walks carefully most his feet and look at his reflection in the
of the time, except when he is ambitious water .
of great praise at little cost, when he · Perhaps he wants a drink. We
66

makes the charges aforesaid . won't hurry him. We will let him sec
“ He is so considerate, usually ! " Kate that we can afford to wait.”
says ; " he knows we don't like tearing up If he had not come to that conclusion
and down hills ; but now and then his from the very start, he must have believ
spirit runs away with him ! ” — I wish it ed human beings were miracles of pa
would some day with us. No hope of it ! tience and forbearance.
We stop every two miles to water the I could write a fine dissertation upon
horse, and though we are exceedingly Kate's foolish fondness and her blind in
moderate in our donations, we are a for- dulgence. I could show that these are
tune to the hostlers. I carry the purse , the great failings of her sex , and prove
as Kate is quite occupied in holding the how very much more rational my sex
reins, and keeping a sharp look -out that would be in like circumstances. But I
her charger don't run off. Not that he find it too pleasant to be the recipient of
ever showed a disposition that way,-be- such favors myselfjust now, to find fault.
ing generally quite agreeable, if we wish Wait until I do not need woman's tender
him to stand ever so long a time; but ness, and then I'll abuse it famously. I
566 Thy Psyche. [March,
will say then, that she is weak , foolish, creatures when I see them turning to one
imprudent ; I will say, she kills with side and the other, to find a little relief in
kindness, spoils with indulgence, and all change of position. To restrain horses
that ; but just now I will say nothing. thus, who have heavy loads to pull, is the
In one thing I think her kindness very height of folly, as a waste of power.
sensible, - she uses no check -rein. I You take no interest in these remarks,
think with Sir Francis Head, that all perhaps ; but treasure them. If ever,
horses arc handsomer with their heads Cousin Mary, you drive a dray, they will
held as Nature pleases. I pity the poor serve you.
[To be continued. )

THY PSYCHE.

LIKE aa strain of wondrous music rising up in cloister dim,

Through my life's unwritten measures thou dost steal, a glorious hymn !
All the joys of earth and heaven in the singing meet, and flow
Richer, sweeter, for the wailing of an undertone of woe .
How I linger, how I listen for each mellow note that falls,
Clear as chime of angels floating downward o'er the jasper walls !

Every night, when winds are moaning round my chamber by the sea,
Thine's the face that through the darkness latest looks with love atme;
And I dream , ere thou departest, thou dost press thy lips to mine ;
Then I sleep as slept the Immortals after draughts of Hebe's wine !
And I clasp thee, out of slumber when the rosy day is born,
As the soul, with rapture waking, clasps the resurrection morn .

' Twas thy soul-wife, ' twas thy Psyche, one uplifteil, radiant day,
Thou didst call me ;-how divinely on thy brow Love's glory lay !
Thou my Cupid ,-not the boy-god whom the Thespians did adore,
But the man, so large, so noble, truer god than Venus bore .
I thy Psyche ;—yet what blackness in this thread of gold is wove !
Thou canst nerer, never lead me, proud, before the throne of Jove !
All the gods might toil to help thee through the longest summer day ; -
Still would watch the fatal Sisters, spinning in the twilight gray ;
And their calm and silent faces, changeless looking through the gloom ,
From eternity, would answer, “ Thou canst ne'er escape thy doom ! ”
Couldst thou clasp mc, couldst thou claim me, 'neath the soft Elysian skies,
Then what music and what odor through their azure depths would rise !
Roses all the Hours would scatter, every god would bring us joy,
So, in perfect loving blended, bliss would never know alloy !
O my heart ! the vision changes ; fades the soft celestial blue ;
Dies away the rapturous music, thrilling all my pulses through !
Lone I sit within my chamber ; storms are beating 'gainst the pane,
And my tears are falling faster than the chill December rain ;
Yet, though I am doonied to linger, joyless, on this carthly shore,
Thou art Cupid !-1 am Psyche !— we are wedded evermore !
1858.] Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. 567

DR . WICHERN AND HIS PUPILS.

“ Would you like to spend a day at the great fire of 1842 were so abundant
Horn and visit the Rauhe Haus ? ” in- in the narrow streets. These children
quired my friend , Herr X. , of me, onc were ready for crime of every descrip
evening, as we sat on the bank of the tion, and in audacity and hardihood far
Inner Alster, in the city of Hamburg. surpassed older vagabonds.
60

I had already visited most of the “ lions ” * In 1830, Dr. Wichern, then a young
in and about Hamburg, and had found man of twenty -two, having completed
in Herr X. a most intelligent and oblig- his theological studies at Göttingen and
ing cicerone. So I said, “ Yes," without Berlin , returned home, and began to de
hesitation, though knowing little more of vote himself to the religious instruction
the Rauhe Haus than that it was a re- of the poor. He established Sabbath
form school of some kind. schools for these children, visited their
“ I will call for you in the morning," parents at their homes, and sought to
said my friend, as we parted for the night bring them under better influences. He
The morning was clear and bright, succeeded in collecting some three or four
and I had hardly despatched my break- hundred of them in his Sabbath -schools ;
fast when Herr X. appeared with his but he soon became convinced that they
carriage. Entering it without delay, we must be removed from the evil influences
were driven swiftly over the pavements, to which they were subjected, before any
till we came to the old city -wall, now improvement could be hoped for in their
forming a fine drive, when my friend, morals. In 1832, he proposed to a few
turning to the coachman, said -
, friends, who had become interested in his
“ Go more slowly ." labors, the establishment of a House of
“ The scenery in this vicinity we Ham- Rescue for them . The suggestion met
burgers think very beautiful,” he contin- their approval; but whence the means
ued, turning to me. for founding such an institution were to
To my eye, accustomed to our New come none of them knew ; their own re
England hills, it was much too flat to sources were exceedingly limited, and
merit the appellation of beautiful, though they had no wealthy friends to assist
Art had done what it could to improve them .
upon Nature ; so I assented to his en- “ About this time, a gentleman with
comiums upon the landscape, but, desir- whom he was but slightly acquainted
ous of changing the subject, added ,- brought him three hundred dollars, de
“ This Rauhe Haus, where we are go siring that it should be expended in
ing, I know but little of; will you give aid of some new charitable institution.
me its history ? " Soon after, a legacy of $ 17,500 was left
“ Most willingly," he replied. “You for founding a House of Rescue. Thus
must know that our immense commerce , encouraged, Wichern and his friends
while it affords ample occupation for the went forward. A cottage, roughly built
enterprising and industrious, draws hither and thatched with straw , with aa few acres
also a large proportion of the idle, de- of land, was for sale at Horn, about four
praved , and vicious. For many years, miles from the city, and its situation plcas
it was one of the most difficult ques- ing them, they appropriated their legacy
tions with which our Senate has had to to the purchase of it. Hither, in Novem
grapple, to determine what should be ber, 1833, Dr. Wichern removed with
done with the hordes of vagrant children his mother, and took into his household,
who swarmed about our quays, and were adopting them as his own children, three
harbored in the filthy dens which before of the worst boys he could find in Ham
568 Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. [March,
burg. In the course of a few months be successful in obtaining assistants of the
had increased the number to twelve, all right description. They are young men
selected from the most degraded chil- of good education , generally versed in
dren of the city. some mechanical employment, and whose
“ His plan was the result of careful and zeal for philanthropic effort leads them
mature deliberation . He saw that these to place themselves under training here,
depraved and vicious children had never for three or four years, without salary.
been brought under the influence of a They are greatly in demand all over
well -ordered fainily, and believing, that, Gerinany for home missionaries and su
in the organization of the family, Gol perintendents of prisons and reformatory
had intended it as the best and most institutions. You have heard, I presume,
efficient institution for training children of the Inner Mission ? "
in the ways of morality and purity, he I assented, and he continued .
proposed to follow the Divine example. “ These young men are its most active
The children were employer , at first, in promoters. The philanthropy of Wichern
improving the grounds, which had hither- was not satisfied , until he had established
to been left without much care ; the also several families of vagrant girls at his
banks of a little stream , which flowed Rough House. — But sce, we are ap
past the cottage, were planted with trees; proaching our destination. This is the
a fish -pond into which it discharged its Rauhe Haus."
waters was transformed into a pretty As he spoke, our carriage stopped .
sylvan lake ; and the barren and un- We alighted, and rarely has my eye
productive soil, by judicious cultivation, been greeted by a pleasanter scene.
was brought into aa fertile condition . The grounds, comprising about thirty
“ In 1834 , the numerous applications two acres, presented the appearance of
he received , and the desire of extending a large landscape-garden. The varie
the usefulness of the institution , led him to ty of choice forest-trees was very great,
erect another building for the accommo- and mingled with them were an abun
dation of a second family of boys. The dance of fruit-trees, now laden with their
work upon it was almost wholly perform- golden treasures, and a profusion of flow
ed by his first pupils. I should have re- ers of all hues. Two small lakes, whose
marked, that, during the first year, a borders were fringed with the willow ,
high fence, which surrounded the prem- the weeping-elm, and the alder, glittered
ises when they were purchased , was re- in the sunlight,—their finny inhabitants
moved by the boys, by Dr. Wichern's occasionally leaping in the air, in joyous
sport. Fourteen buildings were scattered
direction , as he desired to have love the
over the demesne, -one, by its spire,
only bond by which to retain them in his
family. When the new house was finish- seeming to be devoted to purposes of
ed and dedicated, the original family worship.
moved into it, and were placed under Let us go to the Muller -Haus,"
the charge of two young men from Swit- (Mother- House ,) said my friend ; we

zerland, named Baumgärtner and Byck- shall probably find Dr. Wichern there.”
meyer. So saying, he led the way to a plain,
“ Workshops for the employment of the neat building, situated nearly centrally,
boys soon became necessary, and means though in the anterior portion of the
were contributed for their erection. New grounds. This is Dr. Wichern's private
pupils were offered , either by their par- residence, and here he receives reports
ents, or by the city authorities, and new from the Brothers, as the assistants are
families were organized. These required called , and gives advice to the pupils.
more“ house -fathers," as they were called, We were ushered into the superintend
and for their training a separate house ent's office, and found him a fine, noble
was needed. Dr. Wichern has been very looking man , with a clear, mild eye, and
1858.] Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. 569

an expression of great decision and en- tation, they might enter upon a new
ergy. My friend introduced me, and life, their sullen and intractable natures
Dr. Wichern welcomed us both with yielded, and they became almost im
great cordiality. mediately docile and amiable.”
“ Be seated for a moment, gentle- * But," I asked, “is there not danger,
men ,” said he ; “ I am just finishing the that, when removed from these confort
proofs of our Fliegende Blätter,” ( Fly- able homes, and subjected again to the
ing Leaves, a periodical published at the iron gripe of poverty, they will resume
Rauhe llaus,) “ and will presently show their old habits ? ”
you through our buildings." “ None of us know , " replied Dr.
We waited accordingly, interesting Wichern, solemnly, “ what we may be
ourselves, meanwhile, with the portraits left to do in the hour of temptation ;
of benefactors of the institution which but the danger is, nevertheless, not so
decorated the walls. great as you think. Our children are
In a few minutes Dr. Wichern rose , fed and clothed like other peasant chil
and merely saying, “ I am at your ser- dren ; they are not encouraged to hope
vice, gentlemen ,” led the way to the orig- for distinction, or an elevated position in
inal Rough House. It is situated in the society; they are taught that poverty is
southeastern corner of the grounds, and is not in itself an evil, but, if borne in the
overshadlowed by one of the noblest chest- right spirit, may be a blessing. Our in
nut-trees I have ever seen . The building struction is adapted to the same end ; we
is old and very humble in appearance, do not instruct them in studies above
but of considerable size. In addition to their rank in life ; reading, writing, the
accommodations for the House - Father elementary principles of arithmetic, ge
and his family of twelve boys, several of ography, some of the natural sciences,
the Brothers of the Mission reside here, and music, comprise the course of study.
and there are also rooms for a probation . In the calling they select, we do what we
ary department for new pupils. can to make them intelligent and compe
“ Here, ” said the Doctor, “ we began tent. Our boys are much sought for as
the experiment whose results you see apprentices by the farmers and artisans
around you. When, with my mother and of the vicinity."
66
sister and three of the worst boys to be Many of them , I suppose,” said I,
found in Hamburg, I removed to this “ had been guilty of petty thefts before
house in 1833, there was need of strong coming herc; do you not find trouble
faith to foresee the results which God from that propensity ? ”
bas wrought since that day." “ Very seldom ; the perfect freedom
“ What were the means you found from suspicion, and the confidence in
most successful in bringing these turbu- each other, which we have always main
lent and intractable spirits into subjec- tained, make theft so mean a vice, that
tion ? " I inquired. no boy who has a spark of honor left
“Love, the affection of a parent for will be guilty of it. In the few in
his children ,” was his reply. « These stances which do occur, the moral sense
wild, hardened boys were inaccessible of the family is so strong, that the offend
to any emotion of fear; they had never er is entirely subdued by it. An inci
been treated with kindness or tender- dent, illustrative of this, occurs to me.
ness ; and when they found that there Early in our history, a number of our
was no opportunity for the exercise of boys undertook to erect a hut for some
the defiant spirit they had summoned purpose. It was more than half com
to their aid, when they were told that pleted , and they were delighted with the
all the past of their lives was to be for- idea of being able soon to occupy it,
gotten and never brought up against when it was discovered that a single
them , and that here, away from temp- piece of timber, contributed by one of
570 Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. [March,
the boys, had been obtained without ment in behavior, or their influence over
leave. As soon as this was known, one others.
of the boys seized an axc, and demolish- “ This,” said he, turning to me, as a
ed the building, in the presence of the bright, blue-eyed, flaxen -haired boy seiz
offender, the rest looking on and approv cd his hand, " is one of our peace boys."
ing ; nor could they afterward be induc- I did not understand what he meant
ed to go on with it. At one time , sever- by the term , and said so.
al years since, there were two or three “ Our peace boys,” he replied, are

petty thefts committed, (and a good selected from the most trustworthy and
deal of prevarication naturally follow- exemplary of our pupils, to aid in super
ed,) mainly by new pupils, of whom a intending the others. They have no au
considerable number had been admitted thority to command , or even to reprove;
at once. Finding ordinary reproof un- but only to counsel and remind. To be
availing, I announced that family wor- selected for this duty is one of their high
ship would be suspended till the delin- est rewards . ”
quents gave evidence of penitence. The “ There must be among so many boys,"
effect of this measure was far beyond my I remarked, “and particularly those taken
expectation. Many of the boys would from such sources, a considerable num
meet in little groups, in the huts, for ber of born -destructives, - children in
prayers among themselves; and ere long whom the propensity to break , tear, and
the offenders came humbly suing for par- destroy is almost ineradicable ; how do
don and the resumption of worship .” you manage these ? ”
During this conversation, we had left “ In the earlier days ofour experiment,"
the Rough House and visited the new he replied , “ we had much trouble from
Lodge, erected in 1853, for a family of this source ; but at last we hit upon the
boys and a circle of Brothers, and the plan of allowing each boy a certain sum
“ Beehive ,” ( Bienenkorb ,) erected in 1841 , of pocket-money , and deducting from
in the northeast corner of the grounds, this, in part at least, the estimated value
the home of another family. Turning of whatever he destroyed. From the
westward , we came to the chapel , and a day this rule was adopted all destructible
group of buildings connected with it, in- articles seemed to have lost a great part
cluding the school-rooms, the preparato- of their fragility ."
ry department for girls, the library, dwell- “ Do the pupils often run away ? ” I
ings for two families of girls, the kitchen , asked .
store -rooms, and offices. It was the hour “ Very seldom , of late years ; formerly
66

of recess, and from the school-rooms rushi we were occasionally troubled in that
ed forth a joyous company of children, way. It was, of course, easy for them to
plainly clad, and evidently belonging to do it, as no fences or other methods of
the peasant class ; but though the marks restraint were used ,-our reliance being
of an early career of vice were stamped upon affection, to retain them . If they
on many of their countenances, yet there made their escape, we usually sought
were not a few bright cyes, and intelli- them out, and persuaded them to return ,
gent, thoughtful faces. Seeing Dr. Wich- and they seldom repeated the offence.
ern , they came at once to him , with the Some years ago, one of our boys, who
impulsiveness of childhood, but with so had repeatedly tried our patience by his
evident a sense of propriety and de- waywardness, ran away. I pursued him ,
corum , that I could not but compare their found him, and persuaded him to return .
conduct with that of many pupils in our It was Christmas eve when we arrived,
best schools, and not to the advantage of and this festival was always celebrated in
the latter. The Doctor received them my mother's chamber. As we entered
cordially, and had a kind word for cach, the room , the children were singing the
generally in reference to their improve- Christmas hymns. As he appeared, they
1858.] Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. 571

manifested strong disapprobation of his they were away again, laboring as zeal
conduct. They were told that they ously as ever, and utterly refusing any
might decide among themselves how he compensation, however urgently pressed
should be punished. They consulted to upon them. When they returned home,
gether quietly for a few moments, and another band was sent out under the di
then one, who had himself been forgiven rection of one of the house -fathers, and
some time before for a like fault, came exerted themselves as faithfully as their
forward, and, bursting into tears, pleaded predecessors had done. But their sacri
that the offender might be pardoned. fices and toils did not end here. Among
The rest joined in the petition, and, ex- the thousands whom that fearful conila
tending to him the hand of fellowship, gration left homeless, not a few came
soon turned their festival into a season here for shelter and food. With these
of rejoicing over the returned prodigal. our boys shared their meals, and gave up
The pardon thus accorded was complete; to them their beds,—themselves sleeping
no subsequent reference was made to his upon the ground, and this for months.”
misconduct ; and the next day, to show I could not wonder at the enthusiasm
our confidence in him, a confidence of the good man over such deeds as
which we never had occasion to retract, these on the part of boys whom he had
we sent hiin on an errand to a consid- rescued from a degradation of whicb
erable distance.” we can hardly form an idea. It was a
“ How did they behave at the time of triumph of which an angel might have
the great fire ? ” I inquired ; “ the excite been proud.
ment must surely have reached you .” I was desirous of learning something
“ No event in our whole history,” an- of the industrial occupations of the pu
swered Dr. Wichern, his fine countenance pils, and made some inquiries respecting
lighting up as he spoke, “so fully satisfied them .
me of the success which bad attended our “ A considerable portion of our boys,"
6
labors, as their behavior on that occasion. said Dr. Wichern, “ arc engaged in agri
On the second day of the fire, the boys, cultural, or rather, horticultural pursuits.
some of whoin had relatives and friends As we practise spade husbandry almost
in the burning district, became so much exclusively, and devote our grounds to
excited by the intelligence brought by gardening purposes, we can furnish em.
those who had escaped from the flames, ployment to quite a number. For those
that they began to implore me to permit who prefer mechanical pursuits, we have
them to go and render assistance. I a printing-office, book -bindery, stereo
feared, at first, the consequences of ex- type- foundry, lithographing and wood
posing them to the temptations to escape engraving establishment, paint shop, silk
and plunder by which they would be be- weaving manufactory, and shoe-shop, as
set ; but at length permitted a company well as those trades which are carried on
of twenty-two to go with me, on con- for the most part out of doors, such as
dition that they would keep together as masonry and carpentry. The girls are
much as possible, and return with me at mostly employed in houschold duties, and
an appointed time. They promised to are in great demand as servants and
do this, and they fulfilled their promise assistants in the households of our far
to the letter. Their conduct was in the mers . "
highest degree heroic ; they rushed into Passing westward, we came next to the
danger, for the sake of preserving lives bakery and the farmer's residence, catch
and property, with a coolness and bravery ing a glimpse through the trees of the
which put to shame the labors of the Fisherman's Hut, at a little distance, near
boldest firemen ; occasionally they would the bank of the larger of the two sylvan
come to the place of rendezvous to reas- lakes on the premises, where another
sure their teacher, and then in a moment family are gathered, and then approach
572 Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. [ March,
ed a large building of more pretension course of special instruction for them, oc
than the rest. cupying twenty hours a week, in which,
“ This,” said Dr. Wichern, “ is the during their four years' residence with
bome of the Brothers of our Inner Mis- us, they are taught sacred and profane
sion, and the school- room for our board- history, German, English , geography,
ing- school boys, the children of respect- vocal and instrumental music, and the
able and often wealthy parents, who science of teaching. Instruction on re
have proved intractable at home.” ligious subjects is also given throughout
“ What, " I asked, “ do you include in the course . For the purpose of prac
the term, Inner Mission ? ” tical training, they are attached, at
“ I must take a round -about method first, to families as assistants, and after
of answering your inquiry. When we a period of apprenticeship they under
found it necessary to form new families, take in rotation the direction . They
our greatest difficulty was in procuring teach the elementary classes ; visit the
suitable persons to become house -fathersparents of the children , and report to
of these families. It was easy enough to them the progress which their pupils
obtain honest, intelligent men and wom- have made ; maintain a watchful super
en, who possessed a fair education and vision over them, after they leave the
a sufficient knowledge of some of the Rauhe Haus ; and assist in religious in
mechanic arts for the situation ; but we struction, and in the correspondence.
felt that much more than this was ne- By the system of monthly rotation we
cessary. We wanted men and women have adopted , each Brother is brought
who would act a parent's part, and in contact with all the pupils, and is thus
perform a parent's duty to the children enabled to avail himself of the experi
under their care ; and these, we found, ence acquired in each family."
must be trained for the place. We then “ You spoke of a great demand for
began our circles of Brothers, to furnish their services ; I can easily imagine that
house - fathers and assistants for our fam- men so trained should be in demand ;
ilies. We required in the candidates but what are the callings they pursue
for this office an irreproachable char- after leaving you ? for you need but a
acter ; that they should be free from limited number as house - fathers and
physical defect, of good health and ro- teachers. "
bust constitution ; that they should give “ The Inner Mission ," he replied,
evidence of piety, and of special adapta “ has a wide field of usefulness. It fur
tion to this calling ; that they should un- nishes directors and house -fathers for
derstand farming, or some one of the reform schools organized on our plan,
trades practised in the establishment , or of which there are a number in Ger
possess sufficient mechanical talent to many ; overseers, instructors, and assist
acquire a knowledge of them readily ; ants in agricultural and other schools ;
that they should have already a certain directors and subordinate officers for
amount of education, and an amiable prisons; directors, overseers, and assist
and teachable disposition ; and that they ants in hospitals and infirmarics ; city
sho be not under twenty years of and home missionaries ; and missionaries
age, and exempt from military service. ” to colonies of emigrants in America. "
“ And do you find a sufficient number “ What is your annual expenditure
who can fulfil conditions so strict ?” I above the products of your farm and
inquired. workshops ? ” I asked .
“ Candidates are never wanting ," was “ Somewhat less than fifty dollars a
his reply , though the demand for their head for our entire population," was the
services is large.” reply.
“ What is your course of training ? ” It was by this time high noon , and
“ Mainly practical ; though we have a as we returned to the Mutter-Haus, the
1858.] Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. 573

benevolent superintendent insisted that I replied , that it was, - that in our

-

we should remain and partake with him larger towns the place of burial was gen
of the mid -day meal. We complied, and erally rendered attractive, but that in
presently were summoned to the dining the rural districts the burying -grounds
ball, where we found a small circle of were yet neglected and unsightly ; and
the Brothers, and the two head teachers. ventured the opinion, that this neglect
After a brief but appropriate grace, we might be partly traceable to the iconoclas
took our seats, being introduced by the tic tendencies of our Puritan ancestors .
director. Dr. Wichern thought not ; the neg
“ At supper all our teachers assem- lect of the earthly home of the dead
ble here,” said Dr. Wichern , “ and with resulted from the prevalence of indiffer
them those children whose birthday it ence to the glorious doctrine of the Res
is ; but at dinner the Brothers remain urrection ; and whatever a people might
with their own families. " profess, he could not but believe them
The table was abundantly supplied infidel at heart, if they were entirely neg
with plain but wholesome food , and the lectful of the resting-place of their dead.
cheerful conversation which ensued gave The close of our repast precluded
evidence that the cares of their position further discussion, and at our host's in
had not exerted a depressing influence vitation we accompanied him to the
on their spirits. Each seemed thorough- rural cemetery, where such of the pupils
ly in love with his work, and in barmony and Brothers as died during their con
with all the rest. Dr. Wichern men- nection with the school were buried.
tioned that I was from America . An English writer has very appropri
“ Have you,” inquired one of the Broth- ately called the Rauhe Haus a “Home
ers, “ any institutions like this in your among the Flowers ” ; but the title is far
country ? " more appropriate to this beautiful spot.
“ We have,” I answered, “ Reform Whatever a pure and exquisite taste
Schools, Houses of Refuge, Juvenile could conceive as becoming in a place
Asylums, and other reformatory institu-
consecrated to such a purpose, willing
tions; but I am afraid I must say, noth-
hands have executed ; and early every
ing like this. We are making pro- Sabbath morning, Dr. Wichern says, the
gress, however, in Juvenile Reform , and pupils resort hither to see that everything
I hope that ere long we, too, may have necessary is donc to keep it in perfect
a Rough House whose influence shall order. The air seemed almost heavy
pervade our country , as yours has done with the perfume of flowers; and though
Central Europe ." the home of the living pupils of the
“ Dr. Wichern ," inquired another, Rauhe Haus is plain in the extreme, the
“ bave our friends visited the God's palace of their dead surpasses in splen
Acre ? ' " * dor that of the proudest of earthly mon
“ Not yet," was the reply ; " but I will archs. One could hardly help coveting
go thither with them after we have din such a resting-place.
ed , if they can remain so long." It was with reluctance that we at last
We assented, and one of the Broth- turned our faces homeward, and bade
ers · remarked, the excellent director farewell. The
“ Our boys have taken especial pains world has seen, in this nineteenth cen
to beautify that favorite spot, this season .” tury , few nobler spirits than his. Pos
“ This disposition to adorn the resting- sessed of uncommon intellect, he com
place of the body, so common among us, bines with it executive talent of no or
is becoming popular in your country, I dinary character, and a capacity for la
believe, " said our host, courteously. bor which seems almost fabulous. His
duties as the head of the Inner Mission,
* The German name of a grave- yard. whose scope comprises the organization
574 Dr. Wichern and his Pupils. [ March,
and management of reformatory institu- are to control them have become mon
tions of all kinds, throughout Germany, sters ofiniquity ere they have reached
as well as efforts analogous to those of the age of manhood ?
our city missions, temperance societies, The forces of Good and Evil are ever
etc., might well be supposed to be suffi- striving for the mastery in human so
cient for one man ; but these are supple- ciety. Happy is that philanthropist, and
mentary to his labors as director of the honored should he be with a nation's
Raube Haus, and editor of the Fliegende gratitude, who can rescue these juvenile
Blätter, and the other literature, by no offenders from the power of evil, and
means inconsiderable, of the Inner Mis- from the fearful suggestings of tempta
sion. Dr. Wichern is highly esteemed tion and want, and enlist them on the
and possesses almost unbounded influ- side of virtue and right! We rear mon
ence throughout Germany; and that in- uments of marble and bronze to those
fluence, potent as it is, even with the heroes who on the battle -field and in
princes and crowned heads of the Ger- the fierce assault have kept our nation's
man States, is uniformly exerted in be- fame untarnished, and added new laurels
balf of the poor, the unfortunate, the to the renown of our country's prowess ;
ignorant, and the degraded. When the but more enduring than marble, more
history of philanthropy shall be written, lasting than brass, should be the monu
and the just meed of commendation be- ment reared to him who, in the fierce
stowed on the benefactors of humanity contest with the powers of evil , shall
how much more exalted a place will he rescue the soul of the child from the
receive, in the memory and gratitude of grasp of the tempter, and change the
the world, than the perjured and auda- brutalized and degraded offspring of
cious despot who, born the same ycar, crime and lust into a youth of generous,
in the neighboring city of the Hague, active, and noble impulses. But though
has won his way to the throne of France earthly fame may be denied to such a
by deeds of selfishness and cruelty ! benefactor of his race, his record shall
Even to -day, who would not rather be be on high ; and at that grand assize
John Henry Wichern , the director of where all human actions shall be weighed,
the Rauhe Haus at Horn, than Louis His voice, whose philanthropy exceeded ,
Napoleon , cmperor of France ? infinitely, the noblest deeds of benevo
Would that on our own side of the lence of the sons of earth, shall be heard ,
Atlantic a Wichern might arise, whose saying to these humble laborers in the
abilities should be sufficient to unite in vineyard of our God, “ Friends, come
one common purpose our reforinatory up higher ! ”
enterprises, and rescue from infamy and Those who are interested in knowing
sin the tens of thousands of children what has been accomplished by the re
who now, apt scholars in crime, throng formatory institutions of Europe will
the purlieus of vice in our large cities, find a full and entertaining account of
and are already committing deeds whose most of them in a volume recently pub
desperate wickedness might well cause lished, entitled 6“ Papers on Preventive,
hardened criminals to shudder. The Correctional, and Reformatory Institu
existence of a popular government de- tions and Agencies in Different Coun
pends, we are often told, upon the intel- tries,” by Henry Barnard, LL.D. Hart
ligence and virtue of the people. What ford : F. C. Brownell, 1857. Dr. Bar
hope, then, can we have of the perpe- nard has done a good work in collecting
tuity of our institutions, when those who these valuable documents.
1858 . Beauty . 575

BEAUTY.

Fond lover of the Ideal Fair,

My soul, eluded everywhere,
Is lapsed into a sweet despair.
Perpetual pilgrim , seeking ever,
Baffled , enamored, finding never ;
Each morn the cheerful chase renewing,
Misled, bewildered, still pursuing;
Not all my lavished years have bought
One steadfast smile from her I sought,
But sidelong glances, glimpsing light,
A something far too fine for sight,
Veiled voices, far off thridding strains,
And precious agonies and pains :
Not love, but only love's dear wound
And exquisite unrest I found.
At early morn I saw her pass
The lone lake's blurred and quivering glass;
Her trailing veil of amber mist
The unbending beaded clover kissed ;
And straight I hasted to waylay
Her coming by the willowy way ;
But, swift companion of the Dawn,
She left her footprints on the lawn,
And, in arriving, she was gone.
Alert í ranged the winding shore ;
Her luminous presence flashed before ;
The wild -rose and the daisies wet
From her light touch were trembling yet ;
Faint smiled the conscious violet ;
Each bush and brier and rock betrayed
Some tender sign her parting made;
And when far on her flight I tracked
To where the thunderous cataract
O'er walls of foamy ledges broke,
She vanished in the vapory smoke.

To-night I pace this pallid floor,

The sparkling waves curl up the shore,
The August moon is flushed and full ;
The soft, low winds, the liquid lull,
The whited , silent , misty realm ,
The wan-blue heaven, each whostly elm ,
All these, her ministers, conspire
To fill my bosom with the fire
And sweet delirium of desire.
576 The Grindwell Governing Machine. [ March,
Enchantress ! leave thy sheeny height,
Descend, be all mine own this night,
Transfuse, enfold, entrance me quite !
Or break thy spell, my heart restore ,
And disenchant me evermore !

THE GRINDWELL GOVERNING MACHINE .

On the other side of the Atlantic there dulgence while I attempt to give some
is a populous city called Grandville. It account of it. It may be thought a very
is, as its name indicates, a great city,– curious affair, though I believe there is
but it is said that it thinks itself a good little about it that is original or new.
deal greater than it really is. I meant The idea of it was handed down from
to say that Grandville was its original remote generations.
name, and the name by which even at In America I know that many persons
the present day it is called by its own may consider the Grindwell Governing
citizens. Machine a humbug,-an obsolete, absurd,
But there are certain wits, or
it may be, vulgar people, who by some and tyrannous institution, wholly unfitted
process have converted this name into to the nineteenth century. A machine
Grindwell. that proposes to think and act for the
I may be able, in the course of this whole people, and which is rigidly op
sketch, to give a reason why so sound- posed to the people's thinking and acting
ing and aristocratic a name as Grand- for themselves, is likely to find little far
ville has been changed into the plebe- vor among us. With us the doctrine is,
ian one of Grindwell. I might account that each one should think for himself, —
for it by adducing similar instances of be an individual mind and will, and not
changes in the names of cities through the spoke of a wheel. Every American
the bad pronunciation and spelling of voter or votress is allowed to keep his or
foreigners. For instance, the English her little intellectual wind-mill, coffee-mill,
nickname Livorno Leghorn, the Ger- pepper -mill, loom , steam -engine, hand -or
mans insist on calling Venice Venedig, gan, or whatever moral manufacturing or
and the French convert Washington into grinding apparatus he or she likes. Each
the Chinese word Voss-Hang -Tong. And one may be his own Church or his own
so it may be that the name Grindwell has State, and yet be none the less a good
originated among us Americans simply and useful citizen, and the union of the
from miscalling or misspelling the foreign States be in none the more danger. But
name of Grandville. it is not so in Grindwell. The rules of
I incline to think, however, that there the Grindwell machine allow no one to
is a better reason for the name. do his own grinding, unless his mill-wheel
For a good many years Grandville has is turned bythe central governing power.
been famous for a great machine, of a He must allow the big State machine to
very curious construction, which is said do everything,—he paying for it, of
to regulate the movements of the whole course. A regular programme prescribes
city, and almost to convert the men , wom- what he shall believe and say and do ;
en, and children into cranks, wheels, and and any departure from this order is
pinions. As a model of this machine considered a violation of the laws, or at
does not exist in our Patent Office at least a reprehensible invasion of the
Washington, I shall beg the reader's in- time-honored customs of the city.
1858.] The Grindwell Governing Machine. 577

The Grindwell Governing Machine So preacheth his crooked fag -end of a

( though a patent has been taken out for conscience, that very , very small still
it in Europe, and it is thought everything voice, in very husky tones ; but he
of by royal heads and the gilded flics that knows that a policeman, walking behind
buzz about them ) is really an old ma- him, saw him pick up the purse, which
chine, nearly worn out, and every now alters the case, —which, in fact, complete
and then patched up and painted and ly sets aside his fag -end of a husky-voiced
varnished anew . If aa committee of our conscience, and makes virtue his neces
knowing Yankees were sent over to gain sity, and necessity his virtue. External
information with regard to its actual con- morality is hastily drawn on as a de
dition , I am inclined to think they would cent overcoat to hide the tag-rags of his
bring back a curious and not very fa- roguishness, while he magnanimously re
vorable report. It wouldn't astonish me, stores the purse to the owner.
if they should pronounce the whole ap- Jones left his umbrella in a cab one
paratus of the State rotten from top tonight. Discovering that he hadn't it
bottom , and only kept from falling to under his arm , he rushed after the cab
pieces by all sorts of ingenious contriv- man ; but he was gone. Jones had his
ances of an external and temporary na- number, however, and with it proceeded
9

ture, -here a wheel, or pivot, or spring the next day to the police office, feeling
to be replaced ,—there a prop or buttress · sure that he would find his umbrella
to be set up ,-here a pipe choked up, there. And there, in a closet appropriat
there a boiler burst,—and so on, from ed to articles left in hackney -coaches ,
one end of the works to the other. a perfect limbo of canes, parasols, shawls,
However, the machine keeps a -going, pocket-books, and what-not - he found it,
and many persons think it works beauti- ticketed and awaiting its lawful owner.
fully. The explanation of which mystery is,
Everything is reduced to such perfect that the cabmen in Grindwell are strictly
system in its operations, that the necessity amenable to the police for any depart
for individual opinion is almost supersed- ure from the system which provides for
ed, and even private consciences are laid the security of private property, and a
upon the shelf,—just as people lay by yearly reward is given to those of the
an antiquated timepiece that no wind- coach-driving fraternity who prove to be
ing- up or shaking can persuade into the most faithful restorers of articles left
marking the hours, —for have they not in their carriages. Surely, the result of
the clock on the Government railroad system can no farther go than this ,—that
station opposite, which they can at any Monsieur Vaurien's moral sense , like his
time consult by stepping to the window ? opinions, should be absorbed and over
For instance, individual honesty is set ruled by the governing powers.
aside and replaced by a system of re- What a capital thing it is to have the
wards and punishments. Honesty is an great governmental head and heart think
old -fashioned coat. The police, like a ing and feeling for us! Why, even the
great sponge, absorbs the private virtue. little boys, on winter afternoons, are re
It says to conscience, “ Stay there,—don't stricted by the policemen from sliding on
trouble yourself,—I will act for you ." the ice in the streets, for fear the impetu
You drop your purse in the street. A ous little fellows should break or dislocate
rogue picks it up. In his private con- some of their bones, and the hospital
science he says, “ Honesty is a very might have the expense of setting them ;
good thing, perhaps, but it is by no means so patriarchal a regard has the machine
the best policy ,—it is simply no policy at for its young friends !
all,—it is sheer stupidity. What can be I might allude here to a special depart
more politic than for me to pocket this ment of the machine, which once had
windfall and turn the corner quick ? " - great power in overruling the thoughts
VOL . I. 37
578 The Grindwell Governing Machine. [March,
and consciences of the people, and which For instance, it is said that there are
is still considered by some as not alto pipes laid all along the streets, like hose,
gether powerless. I refer to the Ecclesi- leading from a central reservoir. No
astic department of the Grindwell works. body knows exactly what they are for ;
This was formerly the greatest labor- but if any one steps upon them , up spirts
saving machinery ever invented . But something like a stream of gas, and takes
however powerful the operation of the the form of a gendarme,—and the un
Church machinery upon the grandmoth- lucky street -walker must pay dear for his
ers and grandfathers of the modern carelessness. Telegraph wires radiate
Grindwellites, it has certainly fallen like cobwebs from the chamber of the
greatly into disuse, and is kept a -going main -spring, and carry intelligence of all
now more for the sake of appearances that is going on in the houses and streets.
than for any real efficacy. The most Man - traps are laid under the pavements,
knowing ones think it rather old -fashioned --sometimes they are secretly introduced
and cunibrous, —at any rate, not compa- under your very table or bed , —and if
rable to the State machinery, either in its anything is said against that piece of ma
design or its mode of operation. And chinery called the main -spring, or against
as in these days of percussion -caps and the head engineer, the trap will nab you
Miniè rifles we lay by an old matchlock and fly away with you, like the spider
or crossbow , using it only to ornament that carried off Margery Mopp. If a
our walls, -or as the powdered postilion number of people get together to discuss
with his born and his boots is superseded the meaning of and the reasons for the ex
by the locomotive and the electric tele- istence of the main -spring, or any of the
graph,-so the old rusty Church wheels big wheels immediately connected there
are removed into buildings apart from with, the ground under them will some
the daily life of the people, where they times give way, and they will suddenly
seem to revolve harmlessly and without find themselves in unfurnished apart
any necessary connection with the State ments not to their liking. And if any
wheels. one should be so rash as to put his hand
Not that I mean to say that it works on the wheels, he is cut to pieces or
smoothly and well at all times ,—this strangled by the silent, incessant, fatal
Grindwell machine. How can such an whirl of the engine.
old patched and crumbling apparatus be The head engineer keeps his machine,
expected always to work well ? And how and the city on which it acts, as much in
can you hope to find, even in the most the dark as possible. He has a special
enslaved or routine -ridden community, horror of sunshine. He seems to think
entire obedience to the will of the mon- that the sky is one great burning lens,
arch and his satellites ? Unfortunately and his machine - rooms and the city a
for the cause of order and quiet, there vast powder -magazine.
will always be found certain tough lumps, There are certain articles thought to
in the shape of rebellious or non -conform- be especially dangerous. Newspapers are
ist men, which refuse to be melted in the strictly forbidden ,-unless first steeped in
strong solvents or ground up in the swift a tincture of asbestos of a very dull col
mills of Absolutism . Government must or, expressly manufactured and suppli
look after these impediments. If they ed by the Governing Machine. When
are positively dangerous, they must be properly saturated with the essence of
destroyed or removed . If only suspected, dulness and death, and brought down
or known to be powerless or inactive, from a glaring white and black to a de
they must at least be watched. cidedly ashy -gray neutral color, a few
And here, again , the machine of gov- small newspapers are permitted to be
ernment shows a remarkable ingenuity of circulated, but with the greatest caution .
organization. They sometimes take fire, it is said ,
1858.] The Grindwell Governing Machine. 579

these journals,—when brought too near ed, and lie in great piles outside the city
any brain overcharged with electricity. walls.
Two or three times, it is said, the Govern- But in spite of the utmost vigilance and
ing Machine has been put out of order by care of the officers at the gates and the
the newspapers and their readers bring- sentinels on the thick walls, dangerous
ing too much electro -magnetism (or some- articles and dangerous people will pass
thing like it) to bear on parts of the in. A man like Kossuth or Mazzini go
works ;—the machine had even taken fire ing through would produce such a cur
and been nearly burnt up, and the head rent of the electric fluid, that the machine
engincer got so singed that he never would be in great danger of combustion.
dared to take the management of the Remonstrances were sometimes sent to
works again . neighboring cities, to the effect that they
So it is thought that nothing is so un- should keep their light and heat to them
favorable to the working of the wheels selves, and not be throwing such strong
as light, beat, electricity, magnetism , and, reflections into the weak eyes of the
generally, all the imponderable and un- Grindwellites, and putting in danger the
catchable essences that float about in the governmental powder-magazine, —as the
air ; and these, it is thought, are gen- machine -offices were sometimes called .
erated and diffused by these villanous An inundation or bad harvest, producing
newspapers. Certain kinds of books are a famine among the poor, causes great
also forbidden, as being electric conduc- alarm , and the government officers have
tors. Most of the books allowed in the a time of it, running about distributing
city of Grindwell are so heavy, that they alms, or raising money to keep down the
are thought to be usually non -conductors, price of bread. Thousands of servants
and therefore quite safe in the hands of in livery, armed with terrific instruments
the people. for the destruction of life, are kept stand
It is at the city gates that most vigi- ing on and around the walls of the city,
lance is required with regard to the pro ready at a moment's notice to shoot down
hibited articles. There the poor fellows any one who makes any movement or
who keep the gates have no rest night or demonstration in a direction contrary to
day,—so many suspicious -looking boxes, the laws of the machine. And to sup
bundles, bales, and barrels claim admit- port this great crowd of liveried lackeys,
tance . Quantities of articles are ar- the people are squeezed like sponges, till
rested and prevented from entering. they furnish the necessary money.
Nothing that can in any way interfere The respectable editors of the daily
with the great machine can come in. papers go about somewhat as the dogs do
Newspapers and books from other coun- in August, with muzzles on their mouths.
tries are torn and burnt up. Speaking. They are prohibited from printing more
trumpets, ear-trumpets, spectacles, micro than a hundred words a day. Any ref
scopes, spy -glasses, telescopes, and, gen- erence to the sunshine, or to any of the
erally, all instruments and contrivances subtile and imponderable substances be
for extending the sphere of ordinary fore mentioned, is considered contrary to
knowledge, are very narrowly examined the order of the machine ; to compen
before they are admitted. The only sate for which, there is great show of gas
trumpets freely allowed are a mu light (under glass covers) throughout the
sical sort, fit to amuse the people, —the city. Gas and moonshine are the staple
only spectacles, green goggles to keep out subjects of conversation. Besides light
the glare of truth's sunshine, —the magni- ing the streets and shops, the chief use of
fying-glasses, those which exaggerate the fire seems to be for cooking, lighting
proportions of the imperial governor of pipes and cigars, and fireworks to amuse
the machinery. All sorts of moral light the working classes.
ning-rods and telegraph -wires are arrest- Great attention is paid to polishing
580 The Grindwell Governing Machine. [ March,
and beautifying the outer case of the ma from our side of the Atlantic, engaged
chine, and the outer surface generally of in commerce, had been annoyed a good
the city of Grindwell. Where any por- deal by the gate -officers opening and
tion of the framework has fallen into di- searching his baggage. The next time
lapidation and decay, the gaunt skeleton he went to Grindwell, he brought, besides
bones of the ruined structure are decked his usual trunks and carpet-bags, a rather
and covered with leaves and flowers. large and very mysterious-looking box.
Old rusty boilers that are on the verge After going through with the trunks and
of bursting are newly painted, varnished, bags, the officers took hold of this box.
and labelled with letters of gold. The “ Gentlemen ," said the young practical
main -spring, which has grown old and joker, “ I have great objections to having
weak, is said to be helped by the secret that box opened. Yet it contains, I as
application of steam , —and the fires are sure you, nothing contraband, nothing
fed with huge bundles of worthless bank- dangerous to the peace of the Grindwell
bills and other paper promises. The government or people. It is simply a
noise of the clanking piston and whcels toy I am taking to aа friend's house as a
is drowned by orchestras of music ; the Christmas present to his little boy. If I
roofs and sides of the machine buildings open it, I fear I shall bave difficulty in
are covered all over with roses ; and the arranging it again as neatly as I wish ,
smell of smoke and machine oil is pre- and it would be a great disappointment
vented by scattering delicious perfumes. to my little friend Auguste Henri, if he
The minds of the populace are turned should not find it neatly packed. It
from the precarious condition of things would show at once that it had been
by all sorts of public amusements, such opened ; and children like to have their
as mask balls, theatres, operas, public presents done up nicely, just as they is
gardens, etc. sued from the shop. Gentlemen, I shall
But all this does not preserve some take it as a great favor, if you will let it
persons from the continual apprehension pass.”
that there will be one day a great and “ Sir," said the head officer, “ it is im
terrific explosion. Some say the city is possible to grant the favor you ask. The
sleeping over volcanic fires, which will government is very strict. Many pro
sooner or later burst up from below and Jibited articles have lately found their
destroy or change the whole upper sur- way in. We are determined to put a
face. The actual state of things miuht stop to it.”
be represented on canvas by a gaping, Gentlemen ," said the young man ,
laughing crowd pressing around aa Punch 66“take hold of that box, - lift it. You
and Judy exhibition in the street, be- see how light it is ; you see that there
neath a great ruined palace in the pro- can be no contraband goods there ,-still
cess of repairing, where the rickety scaf less, anything dangerous. I pray you to
»
folding, the loose stones and mortar, and let it pass."
in fact the whole rotten building, may at “ Impossible, Sir ! ” said the officer.
any moment topple down upon their “ How do I know that there is nothing
heads. dangerous there ? The weight is noth
But while such grave thoughts are ing. Its lightness rather makes it the
passing in the minds of some people, I more suspicious. Boxes like this are
must relate one or two amusing scenes usually heavy. This is something out of
the usual course. I'm afraid there's elec
which lately occurred at the city gates.
Travellers are not prohibited from go tricity here. Gentlemen officers, pro
ing and coming ; but on entering, it is ceed to do your duty ! ”
necessary to be sure that they bring with So a crowd of custom - house officers
their passports and baggage no prohibit gathered around the suspected box, with
ed or dangerous articles. A young man their noses bent down over the lid, await
1858. ] The Grindwell Governing Machine. 581

ing the opening. One of them was about “ I assure you, it is nothing but aa bust. "
to proceed with hammer and chisel. “ Pray, whose bust may it be, Madam ? "
66
Stop," said the young merchant, “ I “ The bust of Plato . "
can save you aa great deal of trouble. I “ Plato ? Plato ? Who's Plato ? Is he
can open it in an instant. Allow me- an Italian ? "
by touching a little spring here " - “ He was a Greek philosopher."
66
As he said this, he pressed a secret Why is it so heavy ? "
spring on the side of the box. No soon “ It is a bronze bust. "
er was it done than the lid was thrown “ We beg your pardon, Madam ; but
back with sudden and tremendous vio we fear there's something wrong here.
lence, as if by some living force, and up This Plato may be a conspirator, - а
jumped a hideous and shaggy monster Carbonaro ,-a member of some secret
which knocked the six custoin -house offi- society,-- a red -republican , -a conductor
cers flat on their backs. It was an enor- of the electric fluid . How can we answer
mous Punchinello on springs, who had for this Plato ? We don't like this heavy
been confined in the box like the Genie box ;—these very heavy boxes are suspi
in the Arabian story , and by the broad cious. Suppose it should be some in
grin on his face he seemed delighted with fernal-machine. Madam , we have our
lis liberty and his triumph over his in- doubts. This box must be detained till
quisitors. The six officers lay stunned full inquiries are made.”
by the blow ; and while others ran up to There was no help for it. The box
see what was the matter , the young trav- was detained . “ It must be so , Plato ! "
eller persuaded Mr. Punch back again After waiting several hours, itwas brought
into his box, and, shutting him down, took forward in presence of the entire com
advantage of the confusion to carry it off pany of inquisitors, and cautiously open
with the rest of his baggage, and reach a ed . Seeing no Plato, but only some
cab in safety. When the officers recov- sawdust, they grew still more suspicious
ered their senses, the practical joker bad Having placed the box on the ground,
escaped into the crowded city. They they all retired to a safe distance , as if
could give no clear account of what had awaiting some explosion . They evidently
happened ; but I verily believe they took it for an infernal-machine. In their
thought that Lucifer himself had knock- eyes everything was a machine of some
ed them down , and was now let loose in sort or other . After waiting some time,
the city of Grindwell. and finding that it didn't burst, nor emit
Another amusing incident occurred af- even a smell of sulphur, the boldest man
terwards at the city gates. An Amer- of the party approached it very cautious
ican lady, who was a great lover of Art, ly, and upset it with his foot and ran .
had purchased a bronze bust of Plato All this while the lady and her friends
somewhere on the Continent. She had stood by, silent spectators of this farce.
it carefully boxed, and took it along with The only danger of explosion was on
her baggage. She got on very well until their part, with laughter at the whole
she reached the city of Grindwell. Here scene . They contrived , however, to
she was stopped, of course, and her bag- keep their countenances, though less rig
gage examined. Finding nothing con- idly than the Greek philosopher in the
traband, they were about to let her pass, box did his.
when they came to the box containing the When the custom -house officials found,
ancient philosopher's head . that, though the box was upset, nothing
“ What's this ? ” they asked. “ What's occurred, they grew more bold , and, ap
in this box, so heavy ? ” proaching, saw a piece of the bronze bead
“ A bust,” said the lady. peering above the sawdust. Then, for
“ A bust ? so heavy ? a bust in a lady's the first time, they began to feel ashamed
baggage ? -Impossible ! " of themselves. So replacing the sawdust
582 Saints, and their Bodies. [March ,
and the cover, they allowed the box to One eccentric gentleman of my ac
pass into the city, and tried, by avoiding quaintance persists in predicting that any
to speak of the affair among themselves, day there may be a general blow-up, and
to forget what donkeys they had been . the whole concern , engineers, financiers,
The Grindwell government has many priests, soldiers, and flunkies, all go to
such alarms, and never appears entirely smash. He evidently wishes to see its
at its ease . It is fully ayare of the com- though, as far as personal comfort goes,
bustible nature of the component parts one would rather be out of the way at
of the Governing Machine. There is such aa time.
consequently great outlay of means to Most people seem to think, that, con
insure its safety. An immense number sidering all things, the present head en
of public spies and functionaries are con- gineer is about the best man that could
stantly cinployed in looking after the be found for the post he occupies. There
fires and lights about the city. Heavy are, however, a number of the Grindwell
restrictions are laid on all substances people — I can't say how many, for they
containing electricity, and great care is are afraid to speak—who feel more and
taken lest this subtile fluid should con- more that they are living in a stiſed and
dense in spots and take the form of altogether abnormal condition, and wish
lightning. Fortunately, the unclouded for an indefinite supply of the light, heat,
sunshine seldom comes into Grindwell, air, and electricity which they see some
else there would be the same fears with of the neighboring cities enjoying.
regard to light. What the result is to be no one can
So long as this perpetual surveillance yet tell. We are such stuff as dreams
is kept up, the machine seems to work on are made of, and our little life is rounded
well enough in the main ; but the mo with - a crust ; somo say, a very thin
ment there is any remissness on the part crust, such as might be got up by a skil
of the police,-bang ! goes a small explo ful patissier, and over which gilded court
sion somewhere , or, crack ! a bit of the flies, and even scarabæi, may crawl with
machinery, -- and out rusb the engineers safety, but which must inevitably cave
with their bags of cotton -wool or tow to in beneath the boot-heels of a real, true,
stop up the chinks, or their bundles of thinking man. We cannot forget that
paper money to keep up the stcam , or there are measureless catacombs and
their buckets of oil and soft soap to pour caverns yawning bencath the streets and
upon the wheels. houses of modern Grindwell.

SAINTS, AND THEIR BODIES.

Ever sincc the time of that dyspeptic the four Greek fathers — Chrysostom , Ba
heathen, Plotinus, the saints have been sil, and Gregory of Nazianzen — ruined
“ ashamed of their bodies. " What is their health early, and were wretched in
worse , they have visually had reason for valids for the remainder of their days.
the shame. Of the four famous Latin Three only of the whole cight were able
fathers, Jerome describes his own limbs bodied men , Ambrose , Augustine, and
-

as misshapen, his skin as squalid, his
bones as scarcely holding together ; while
Gregory the Great speaks in his Epistles
of his own large size, as contrasted with
his weakness and infirmities. Three of
Athanasius; and the permanent influ
ence of these three has been far greater,
for good or for evil, than that of all the
others put together.
Robust military saints there have
1858.] Saints, and their Bodies. 583

doubtless been, in the Roman Catholicthe existence of the paintings, but he

Church : George, Michael, Sebastian, would take their word for it. And in this
Eustace, Martin , not to mention Hubert non -intercourse with the visible world
the Hunter, and Christopher the Chris- there has been an apostolical succession,
tian Hercules. But these have always from Chittagutta, down to the Andover
held a very secondary place in canoniza- divinity-student who refused to join his
tion. If we mistake not, Maurice and companions in their admiring gaze on
his whole Theban legion were sainted that wonderful qutunnal laudscape which
together, to the number of six thousand spreads itself before the Seminary Hill in
six hundred and sixty -six ; doubtless they October, but marched back into the Li
were stalwart men, but there never yet brary, ejaculating, “ Lord, turn thou mine
has been a chapel crected to one of eyes'from bebolding vanity ! ”
them . The mediæval type of sanctity It is to be reluctantly recorded, in
was a strong soul in a weak body; and it fact, that the Protestant saints have not
could be intensified either by strengthen- ordinarily had much to boast of, in physi
ing the one or by further debilitating cal stamina, as compared with the Roman
the other. The glory lay in contrast, not Catholic. They have not got far beyond
in combination. Yet, to do them justice, Plotinus. We do not think it worth
they conceded a strong and stately beau- while to quote Calvin on this point, for
ty to their female saints,-Catherine, Ag- he, as everybody knows, was an inva
nes, Agatha, Barbara, Cecilia, and the lid for his whole lifetime. But we do
rest. It was reserved for the modern take it hard, that the jovial Luther, in
Pre-Raphaelites to attempt the combina- the midst of his ale and skittles, should
tión of a maximum of saintliness with a have deliberately censured Juvenal's '
minimum of pulmonary and digestive ca- mens sana in corpore sano, as a pagan
pacity: maxim !
But, indeed, from that day to this, the If Saint Luther fails us, where are the
saints by spiritual laws have usually been advocates of the body to look for com
sinners against physical laws, and the fort ? Nothing this side of ancient
artists have merely followed the exam- Greece, we fear, will afford adequate ex
ples they found. Vasari records, that amples of the union of saintly souls and
Carotto's masterpiece of painting, “ The strong bodies. Pythagoras the sage we
Three Archangels," at Verona, was crit- doubt not to have been identical with
icized because the limbs of the angels Pythagoras the inventor of pugilism ,
were too slender, and Carotto, true to his and he was, at any rate , in the loving
conventional standard , replied , “ Thenwords of Bentley,) “ a lusty proper man,
they will fly the better. ” Saints haye and built as it were to make a good box
been flying to heaven for the same rea- er.” Cleanthes, whose sublime “ Prayer "
son
ever since, -and have commonly is, to our thinking, the highest strain left
flown very early. of early piety, was a boxer likewise .
Indeed, the earlier some such saints Plato was a famous wrestler, and Soo
cast off their bodies the better, they rates was unequalled for his military en
make so little use of them . Chittagutta , durance . Nor was one of these, like
the Buddhist saint, dwelt in a cave in their puny follower Plotinus, too weak
Ceylon. His devont visitors one day sighted to revise his own manuscripts.
remarked on the miraculous beauty of It would be tedious to analyze the
the legendary paintings, representing causes of this modern deterioration of the
scenes from the life of Buddha, which saints. The fact is clear. There is in
adorned the walls. The holy man in- the community an impression that phys
formed them , that, during his sixty years' ical vigor and spiritual sanctity are in
residence in the cave, he had been too compatible. We knew a young Ortho
much absorbed in meditation to notice dox divine who lost his parish by swim
 584 Saints, and their Bodies. [ March,
ming the Merrimac River, and another mens of the drunkard conveys scarcely
who was compelled to ask aa dismissal in a sterner moral lesson than the second
consequence of vanquishing his most in- childishness of the pure and abstemious
fluential parishioner in a game of ten- Southey.
pins ; it seemed to the beaten party But, happily, times change, and saints
very unclerical. We further remember with them . Our moral conceptions are
a match, in a certain sea- side bowling- expanding to take in that “ athletic vir
alley, in which two brothers, young di- tue ” of the Greeks, úpeth Yuuvaotuc),
vines, took part. The sides being made which Dr. Arnold , by precept and prac
up, with the exception of these two tice, defended. The modern English
players, it was necessary to find places “ Broad Church ” aims at breadth of
for them also. The head of one side shoulders, as well as of doctrines
accordingly picked his man, on the pre- Kingsley paints his stalwart Philammons
gumption (as he afterwards confessed ) and Amyas Leighs, and his critics charge
that the best preacher would naturally him with laying down a new definition
be the worst bowler. The athletic capac- of the saint, as a man who fears God
ity, he thought, would be in inverse ratio and can walk aa thousand miles in a thou
to the sanctity. We are happy to add, sand hours. Our American saintship,
that in this case his hopes were signally also, is beginning to have a body to it,
disappointed. But it shows which way a “ Body of Divinity,” indeed . Look at
the popular impression lics. our three great popular preachers. The
The poets have probably assisted in vigor of the paternal blacksmith still
maintaining the delusion. How many swings the sincwy arm of Beecher ;
cases of consumption Wordsworth must Parker performed the labors, mental and
have accelerated by his assertion, that physical, of four able-bodied men, until
" the good die first ” ! Happily, he lived even his great strength temporarily
to disprove his own maxim. We, too, yielded ;—and if ever dyspepsia attack
repudiate it utterly. Professor Peirce the burly frame of Chapin, we fancy
bas proved by statistics that the best that dyspepsia will get the worst of it.
scholars in our colleges survive the rest ; This is as it should be. One of the
and we hold that virtue, like intellect, most potent causes of the ill-concealed
tends to longevity. The experience of alienation between the clergy and the
the literary class shows that all excess is people, in our community, is the suppos
destructive, and that we need the lar- ed deficiency, on the part of the former,
monious action of all the faculties. Of of a vigorous, manly life . It must be
the brilliant roll of the “ young men of confessed that our saints suffer greatly
1830,” in Paris ,–Balzac, Soulié, De Mus- from this moral and physical anhæmia,
set, De Bernard , Sue, and their com- this bloodlessness, which separates them,
peers,—it is said that nearly every one more effectually than a cloister, from
has already perished, in the prime of life. the strong life of the age. What satir
What is the explanation ? A stern one : ists upon religion are those parents who
opium , tobacco, wine, and licentiousness. say of their pallid, puny, sedentary, life
“ All died of softening of the brain or less, joyless little offspring, “ He is born
spinal marrow , or swelling of the heart." for a minister,” while the ruddy, the
No doubt, many of the noble and the brave, and the strong are as promptly as
pure were dying prematurely at the signed to a secular career ! Never yet
same time; but it proceeded from the did an ill-starred young saint waste his
same essential cause : physical laws diso Saturday afternoons in preaching ser
beyed and bodies exhausted. The evil mons in the garret to his deluded little
is, that what in the debauchce is con- sisters and their dolls, without living to
demned, as suicide, is lauded in the repent it in maturity. These precocious
devotee, as saintship. The delirium tre- little sentimentalists wither away like
 1858.] Saints, and their Bodies. 585

blanched potato-plants in a cellar ; and Of course , the mind has immense con
then comes some vigorous youth from his trol over physical endurance, and every
out-door work or play, and grasps the one knows that among soldiers, sailors,
rudder of the age, as he grasped the oar, emigrants, and woodsmen , the leaders,
the bat, or the plough-handle. We dis- though more delicately nurtured , will
trust the achievements of every saint often endure hardship better than the
without a body ; and really have hopes followers, — “ because,” says Sir Philip
of the Cambridge Divinity School, sinçe Sidney, “ they dre supported by the
hearing that it has organized a boat -club. great appetites of honor.” But for all
We speak especially of men, but the these triumphs of nervous power a reac
samc principles apply to women. The tion lies in store , as in the case of the su
triumphs of Rosa Bonheur and Harriet perhuman efforts often made by delicate
Hosmer grew out of aa free and vigorous women . And besides, there is a point
training, and they learned to delineate beyond which no mental heroism can ig
muscle by using it. nore the body,-as, for instance, in sea
Everybody admires the physical train- sickness and toothache. Can virtue ar
ing of military and naval schools. But rest consumption, or self-devotion set free
these same persons never seem to imagine the agonized breath of asthma, or heroic
that the body is worth cultivating for any energy defy paralysis ? More formidable
purpose, except to annibilate the bodies still are those subtle results of disease,
of others. Yet it needs more training which cannot be resisted, because their
to preserve life than to destroy it. The source is unseen . Voltaire declared that
vocation of a literary man is far more the fate of a nation had often depended
perilous than that of a frontier dragoon. on the good or bad digestion of a prime
The latter dies at most but once, by an minister ; and Motley holds that the gout
Indian bullet ; the former dies daily, un- of Charles V. changed the destinies of
less he be warned in time and take occa- the world .
sional refuge in the saddle and the prai- But so blinded, on these matters, is our
rie with the dragoon. What battle-piece accustomed mode of thought, that Mr.
is so pathetic as Browning's “ Gramma- Brecher's recent lecture on the Laws of
rian's Funeral ” ? Do not waste your Nature has been met with strong objec
gymnastics on the West Point or Annap- tions from a portion of the religious press.
0 olis student, whose whole life will be one These newspapers agree in asserting that
of active exercise, but bring them into admiration of physical strength belonged
the professional schools and the count- to the barbarous ages of the world . So it
ing -rooms. Whatever may be the excep- certainly did, and so much the better for
tional cases, the stern truth remains, that those ages. They had that one merit, at
the great deeds of the world can be more least ; and so surely as an exclusively in
easily done by illiterate men than by tellectual civilization ignored it, the arm
sickly ones. Wisely said Iorace Mann, of some robust barbarian prostrated that
“ All through the life of aa pure-minded but civilization at last. What Sismondi says
feeble -boilied man , his path is lined with of courage is preeminently truc of that
memory's gravestones, which mark the bodily vigor which it usually presupposes :
spots where noble enterprises perished, that, although it is by no means the first
for lack of physical vigor to embody of virtues, its loss is more fatal than that
them in deeds.” And yetmore eloquently of all others. “Were it possible to unite
it has been said by a younger American the advantages of a perfect government
thinker, ( D). A. Wilsson ) “ Intellect in a with the cowardice of a whole people,
weak body is like gold in a spent swim- those advantages would be utterly value
mer's poiket,—the richer he would be, less, since they would be utterly without
ander other circumstances, by so much security.”
the greater his danger now .” Physical health is a necessary condi
586 Saints, and their Bodies. [ March,
tion of all permanent success. To the est American Indians cannot equal the
American people it has a stupendous im- average strength of wrist of Europeans,
portance, because it is the only attribute or rival them in ordinary athletic feats.
of power iu which they are losing ground. Indeed, it is generally supposed that
Guaranty us against physical degener- any physical deterioration is local, being
acy, and we can risk all other perils, - peculiar to the United States. Recently,
financial crises, Slavery, Romanism , Mor- however, we have read, with great regret,
monism , Border Ruffians, and New York in the “ Englishwoınan's Review ," that “ it
assassins; “ domestic malice, foreign levy, is allowed by all, that the appearance of
nothing " can daunt us. Guaranty us the English peasant, in the present day,
health, and Mrs. Stowe cannot frighten is very different to [from] what it was
us with all the prophecies of Dred ; but fifty years ago ; the robust, healthy, hard
when her sister Catherine informs us looking countrywoman or girl is as rare
that in all the vast female acquaintance now as the pale, delicate, nervous female
of the Beecher family there are not a of our times would bave been a century
dozen healthy women , we confess our- ago.” And the writer proceeds to give
selves a little tempted to despair of the alarming illustrations, based upon tbe ap
republic. pearance of children in English schools,
The one drawback to satisfaction in both in city and country.
our Public-School System is the physical We cannot speak for England, but
weakness which it reveals and helps to certainly no one can visit Canada with
perpetuate. One seldom notices a ruddy out being struck with the spectacle of a
face in the school-room , without tracing more athletic race of people than our
it back to a Transatlantic origin . The own. On every side one sees rosy fe
teacher of a large school in Canada went male faces and noble manly figures. In
so far as to declare to us, that she could the shop -windows, in winter weather,
recognize the children born this side the hang snow -shoes, “gentlemen's and la
line by their invariable appearance of dies' sizes.” The street- corners inform
ill -health joined with intellectual precoci- you that the members of the “ Curling
ty ,—stamina wanting, and the place sup- Club ” are to meet to -day at “ Dolly's,”
plied by equations. Look at a class of and the “ Montreal Fox -hounds ” at St.
boys or girls in our Grammar Schools; a Lawrence Hall to -morrow . And next
glance along the line of their backs af- day comes off the annual steeple-chase, •
"
fords a study of geometrical curves. You at the “ Mile -End Course,” ridden by
almost long to reverse the position of gentlemen of the city with their own
their heads, as Dante has those of the horses ; a scene, by the way, whose ex
false prophets, and thus improve their citing interest can scarcely be conceived
figures ; the rounded shoulders affording by those accustomed only to “ trials of
a vigorous chest, and the hollow chest an speed ” at agricultural exhibitions. Ev
excellent back . erything indicates out-door habits and
There are statistics to show that the av- athletic constitutions.
erage length of human life is increasing; We are aware that we may be met
but it is probable that this results from with the distinction between a good idle
the diminution of epidemic discases, rath- constitution and a good working constitu
er than from any general improvement tion , —the latter of which often belongs to
in physique. There are facts also to indi- persons who make no show of physical
cate an increase of size and strength with powers. But this only means that there
advancing civilization . It is known that are different temperaments and types of
two men of middle size were unable to physical organization, while, within the
find a suit of armor large enough among limits of cach, the distinction between a
the sixty sets owned by Sir Samuel Mey- healthy and a diseased condition still
rick . It is also known that the strong- holds; and we insist on that alone.
 1858.] Saints, and their Bodies. 587

Still more specious is the claim of the of flannel drawers on . Still less should
Fourth -of-July orators, that, health or no we think of debating (or of tasting) Ken
health, it is the sallow Americans, and nedy's Medical Discovery, or R. R. R., or
not the robust English, who are really the Cow Pepsin. We know our aim , and
leading the world. But this, again, is a will pursue it with a single eye.
question of temperaments. The Eng “ The wise for cure on exercise depend, "
lishman concedes the greater intensity,
but prefers a more solid and permanent saith Dryden ,—and that is our hobby.
power. It is the noble masonry and A great physician has said, “ I know
vast canals of Montreal, against the not which is most indispensable for the
Aladdin's palaces of Chicago. “ I ob- support of the frame, -food or exercise ."
>
serve,” admits the Englishman, “ that an But who, in this community, really takes
American can accomplish more, at a sin- exercise ? Even the mechanic common
gle effort, than any other man on earth ; ly confines himself to one set of mus
but I also observe that he exhausts him- cles ; the blacksmith acquires strength in
self in the achievement. Kane, a deli- bis right arm , and the dancing-master
cate invalid, astounds the world by his in his left leg. But the professional or
two Arctic winters,—and then dies in business man, what muscles has he at all ?
tropical Cuba." The solution is simple ; The tradition, that Phidippides ran from
nervous energy is grand, and so is mus- Athens to Sparta, one hundred and
cular power ; combine the two, and you twenty miles, in two days, seems to us
move the world. Americans as mythical as the Golden
We shall assume, as admitted, there- Fleece. Even to ride sixty miles in a
fore, the deficiency of physical health in day, to walk thirty, to run five, or to
America, and the need of a great amend- swim one, would cost most men among
ment. But into the general question of us a fit of illness, and many their lives.
cause and cure we do not propose to Let any man test his physical condition,
enter. In view of the vast variety of we will not say by sawing his own cord
special theories, and the inadequacy of of wood, but by an hour in the gym
any one, (or any dozen,) we shall for- nasium or at cricket, and his enfeebled
bear. To our thinking, the best diag- muscular apparatus will groan with rheu
nosis of the universal American disease matism for a week. Or let him test the
• is to be found in Andral's famous descrip- strength of his arins and chest by raising
tion of the cholera : “ Anatomical charac- and lowering himself a few times upon a
teristics, insufficient ;-cause, mysterious; horizontal bar, or hanging by the arms
-nature, hypothetical;-symptoms, char- to a rope, and he will probably agree
acteristic ; - diagnosis, easy ;-treatment, with Galen in pronouncing it robustum
very doubtful.” validumque laborem . Yet so manifest
Every man must have his hobby, how- ly are these things within the reach of
ever, and it is a great deal to ride only common constitutions, that a few weeks
one hobby at a time. For the present or months of judicious practice will
we disavow all minor ones. We forbear renovate his whole system, and the most
giving our pet arguments in defence of vigorous exercise will refresh him like a
animal food , and in opposition to tobacco, cold bath.
coffee, and india -rubbers. We will not To a well -regulated frame, mere physi
criticize the old -school physician whom cal exertion, even for an uninteresting
we once knew, who boasted of not hav- object, is a great enjoyment, which is, of
ing performed a thorough ablution for course, enhanced by the excitement of
twenty -five years ; nor will we question games and sports. To almost every
the physiological orthodoxy of Miss Sedg- man there is joy in the memory of
wick's New England artist, who repre- these things ; they are the happiest as
sented the Goddess of Health with a pair sociations of his boyhood. It does not
588 Saints, and their Bodies. [ March,
occur to him , that he also might be as ble shed on the “ College Wharf,” which
happy as a boy, if he lived more like one. was for a brief season the paradise of
What do most men know of the “ wild swimmers, and which, after having been
joys of living," the daily zest and luxury deliberately arranged for their accom
of out-loor existence, in which every modation, was suddenly removed, the
healthy boy beside them revels ? -skat next season , to make room for coal- bins.
ing, while the orange sky of sunset dies Manly sports were not positively discour
away over the delicate tracery of gray aged in our day,—but that was all.
branches, and the throbbing feet.; pause Yet earlier reminiscences of the same
in their tingling motion , and the frosty beloved Cambridge suggest deeper grati
air is filled with the shrill sound of dis- tude. Thanks to thee, W. W ., - first
tant steel, the resounding of the ice, and pioneer, in New England, of true classi
the echoes up the hillsides ?—sailing, cal learning ,—last wielder of the old
beating up against a stiff breeze, with English birch,—for the manly British
the waves thumping under the bow , as sympathy which encouraged to activity
if aa dozen sea -gods had laid their heads the bodies, as well as the brains, of the
together to resist it ?-climbing tall trees, numerous band of boys who played be
where the higher foliage, closing around, neath the stately elms of that pleasant
cures the dizziness which began below, play -ground ! Who among modern ped
and one feels as if he had left a coward agogues can show such an example of
beneath and found a hero above ? —the vigorous pedestrianism in his youth as
joyous hour of crowded life in football thou in thine age ? and who now grants
or cricket ? —the gallant glories of riding, half-holidays, unasked , for no other rea
and the jubilee of swimming ? son than that the skating is good and the
The charm which all have found in Tom boys must use it while it lasts ?
Brown's “ School Days at Rugby ” lies We cling still to the belief, that the
simply in this healthy boy's -lite which it Persian curriculum of studies — to ride,
exhibits, and in the recognition of physical to shoot, and to speak the truth — is the
culture, which is so novel to Americans. better part of a boy's education. As the
At present, boys are annually sent acrossurchin is undoubtedly physically safer for
the Atlantic simply for bodily training. having learned to turn a somerset and
But efforts after the same thing begin to fire a gun, perilous though these feats
creep in among ourselves. A few Nor- appear to mothers,—so his soul is made
mal Schools have gymnasiums (rather healthier, larger, freer, stronger, by hours
neglected, however) ; the “Mystic Hall and days of manly exercise and copious
Female Seminary ” advertises riding. draughts of open air, at whatever risk of
horses ; and we believe the new “ Con- idle habits and bad companions. Even
cord School ” recognizes boating as an if the balance is sometimes lost, and
incidental ;—but these are all exceptional play prevails, what matter ? We rejoice
cases, and far between. Faint and shad- to have been a schoolmate of him who
owy in our memory are certain ruined wrote

structures lingering Stonehenge -like on " The hours the idle schoolboy squandered
the Cambridge “ Delta ,” — and mysterious The man would die ere he'd forget."
pits ailjoining, into which Freshmen were
decoyed to stumble, and of which we Only keep in a boy a pure and gen
find that vestiges still remain. Tradition erous heart, and, whether he work or
spoke of Dr. Follen and German gym- play, his time can scarcely be wasted.
nastics ; but the beneficent exotic was Which really has done most for the edu
transplanted prematurely, and died.. The cation of Boston ,,-- Dixwell and Sherwin,
only direct encouragement of athletic ex- or Sheridan and Braman ?
ercises which stands out in our memory Should it prove, however, that the cul
of academic life was a certain inestima- tivation of active exercises diminishes
1858.] Saints, and their Bodies. 589

the proportion of time given by children chestnuts, skates and cricket-balls, cher
to study, we can only view it as an add- ry -birds and pickerel. There is an inde
ed advantage. Every year confirms us scribable fascination in the gradual trans
in the conviction , that our schools, public ference of these childish companionships
and private, systematically overtask the into maturer relations. We love to en
brains of the rising generation. We all counter in the contests of manhood those
complain that Young America grows to whom we first met at football, and to fol
mental maturity too soon , and yet we all low the profound thoughts of those who
contribute our share to continue the evil. always dived deeper, even in the river,
It is but a few weeks since we saw the than our efforts could attain . There is a
warmest praises, in the New York news- certain gorernor, of whom we personally
papers, of a girl's school, in that city, can remember only, that he found the
where the appointed hours of study Fresh Pond heronry, which we sought in
amounted to nine and a quarter daily, vain ; and in memory the august sheriff
and the hours of exercise to a bare unit. of a neighboring county still skates in
Almost all the Students' Manuals assume victorious pursuit of us, (fit emblem of
that American students need stimulus in- swift -footed justice ! ) on the black ice of
stead of restraint, and urge them to mul- the same lovely lake. Our imagination
tiply the hours of study and diminish crowns the Cambridge poet, and the
those of out-door amusements and of Cambridge sculptor, not with their later
sleep, as if the great danger did not lie laurels, but with the willows out of which
that way already. When will parents they taught us to carve whistles, shriller
and teachers learn to regard mental pre- than any trump of fame, in the happy
cocity as a disaster to be shunned, in- days when Mount Auburn was Sweet
stead of a glory to be coveted ? We Auburn still.
could count up a dozen young men who Luckily, boy-nature is too strong for
have graduated at Harvard College, dur- theory. And we admit, for the sake of
ing the last twenty years, with high hon- truth, that physical education is not so
ors, before the age of eighteen ; and we entirely neglected among us as the ab
suppose that nearly every one of them sence of popular games would indicate.
has lived to regret it. « Nature ,” says We suppose, that, if the truth were told,
Tissot, in his Essay on the Health of Men this last fact proceeds partly from the
of Letters, “ is unable successfully to car- greater freedom of field -sports in this
ry on two rapid processes at the same country. There are few New England
time. We attempt a prodigy, and the re- boys who do not become familiar with
sult is a fool.” There was a child in the rod or gun in childhood. We take
Languedoc who at six years was of the it, that, in the mother country , the mo
size of a large man ; of course , his mind nopoly of land interferes with this, and
was a vacuum . On the other hand, Jean that game laws, by a sort of spontaneous
Philippe Baratier was a learned man in pun, tend to introduce games.
his eighth year, and died of apparent old Again , the practice of match -playing
age at twenty. Both were monstrosities, is opposed to our habits, both as a con
and a healthy childhood would be equi- sumer of time and as partaking too much
distant from either. of gambling. Still, it is done in the case
One invaluable merit of out-door sports of “ firemen's musters, ” which are , we
is to be found in this, that they afford believe, a wholly indigenous institution.
the best cement for childish friendship. We have known a very few cases where
Their associations outlive all others. the young men of neighboring country
There is many a man , now perchance parishes have challenged each other to
bard and worldly, whom we love to pass games of base-ball, as is common in Eng
in the street simply because in meeting land ; and there was, if we mistake not, a
him we meet spring flowers and autumn recent match at football between the boys
590 Saints, and their Bodies. [ March,
of the Fall River and the New Bedford more generally practised in this commu
High Schools. And within a few years nity before the Revolution than at pres
regattas and cricket-matches have be- ent. A state of almost constant Indian
come common events. Still, these pub warfare then created an obvious demand
lic exhibitions are far from being a full for muscle and agility. At present there
exponent of the athletic babits of our is no such immediate necessity. And it
people; and there is really more going has been supposed that a race of shop
on among us than this meagre “pentath- keepers, brokers, and lawyers could live
lon ” exhibits. without bodies. Now that the terrible
Again, a foreigner is apt to infer, from records of dyspepsia and paralysis are
the more desultory and unsystematized disproving this, we may hope for a reac
character of our out-door amusements, tion in favor of bodily exercises. And
that we are less addicted to them than when we once begin the competition,
we really are . But this belongs to the there seems no reason why any other
habit of our nation, impatient, to a nation should surpass us. The wide
fault, of precedents and conventional- area of our country, and its variety of
isms. The English-born Frank Forres- surface and shore, offer a corresponding
ter complains of the total indifference range of physical training. Take our
of our sportsmen to correct phraseology. coasts and inland waters alone. It is
We should say, he urges, “for large one thing to steer a pleasure-boat with a
flocks of wild fowl,—of swans, a while- rudder, and another to steer a dory with
ness,-of geese, a gaggle, -- of brent, a an oar ; one thing to paddle a birch
gang, of duck, a team or a plump,—of canoe, and another to paddle a ducking
widgeon, a trip,—of snipes, a wisp ,- of float; in a Charles River club -boat, the
larks, an exaltation . — The young of post of honor is in the stern , -in a Pe
grousc are cheepers,-of quail, squeakers, nobscot bateau, in the bow ; and each
-of wild duck, flappers.” And yet, care- of these experiences educates a different
less of these proprieties, Young Amer set of muscles. Add to this the con
ica goes gunning
” to good purpose. stitutional American receptiveness, which
So with all games. A college football- welcomes new pursuits without distinc
player reads with astonishment Tomtion of origin,-unites German gymnas
Brown's description of the very compli- tics with English sports and sparring, and
cated performance which passes under takes the red Indians for instructors in
that name at Rugby. So cricket is sim- paddling and running. With these va
plified ; it is hard to organize an Ameri- rious aptitudes, we certainly ought to
can club into the conventional distribu become aa nation of athletes.
tion of point and cover-point, long slip We have shown, that, in one way or
and short slip, but the players persist in another, American schoolboys obtain ac
winning the game by the most heterodox tive exercise. The same is true, in a
grouping. This constitutional independ very limited degree, even of girls. They
ence has its good and evil results, in are occasionally, in our larger cities, sent
sports as elsewhere. It is this which has to gymnasiums, - the more the better.
created the American breed of trotting Dancing-schools are better than nothing,
horses, and which won the Cowes regatta though all the attendant circumstances
by a mainsail as flat as a board. are usually unfavorable. A fashionable
But, so far as there is a deficiency in young lady is estimated to traverse her
these respects among us, this generation three hundred miles a season on foot ;
must not shrink from the responsibility. and this needs training. But out-door
It is unfair to charge it on the Puritans. exercise for girls is terribly restricted ,
They are not even answerable for Mas- first by their costume, and secondly by
sachusetts ; for there is no doubt that the remarks of Mrs. Grundy. All young
athletic exercises, of some sort, were far female animals unquestionably require
1858.] Saints, and their Bodies. 591

as much motion as their brothers, and their strength, (if female strength among
naturally make as much noise ; but what us has any fulness ,) can surpass this Eng
mother would not be shocked, in the lish invalid !
case of her girl of twelve, by one-tenth But even among American men, how
part the activity and uproar which are few carry athletic babits into manhood !
recognized as being the breath of life The great hindrance, no doubt, is absorp
to her twin brother ? Still, there is a tion in business ; and we observe that this
change going on, which is tantamount winter's hard times and consequent leis
to an admission that there is an evil to ure have given a great stimulus to out
be remedied. Twenty years ago, if we door sports. But in most places there is
mistake not, it was by no means con- the further obstacle, that a certain stigma
sidered “ proper ” for little girls to play of boyishness goes with them . So carly
with their hoops and balls on Boston does this begin, that we remember, in
Common ; and swimming and skating our teens, to have been slightly re
have hardly been recognized as “ lady- proached with juvenility, because, though
like” for half that period of time. a Senior Sophister, we still clung to foot
Still it is beyond question, that far ball. Juvenility ! We only wish we had
more out-door exercise is habitually tak- the opportunity now . Full-grown men
en by the female population of almost all are, of course, intended to take not only
European countries than by our own. as mucb, but far more active exercise
In the first place, the peasant women of than boys. Some physiologists go so far
all other countries (a class non -existent as to demand six hours of out-door life
here) are trained to active labor from daily ; and it is absurd in us to complain
childhood ; and what traveller has not that we have not the healthy animal hap
seen , on foreign mountain -paths, long piness of children, while we forswear
rows of maidens ascending and descend- their simple sources of pleasure.
ing the difficult ways, bearing heavy bur- Most of the exercise habitually taken
dens on their heads, and winning by the by men of sedentary pursuits is in the
exercise such a superb symmetry and form of walking. We believe its merits
grace of figure as were a new wonder of to be greatly overrated. Walking is to
the world to Cisatlantic eyes ? Among real exercise what vegetable food is to
the higher classes, physical exercises take animal ; it satisfies the appetite, but the
the place of these things. Miss Beecher nourishment is not sufficiently concentrat
glowingly describes a Russian female ed to be invigorating. It takes a man
seminary in which nine hundred girls of out-doors, and it uses his muscles, and
the noblest families were being trained therefore of course it is good ; but it is
by Ling's system of calisthenics, and her not the best kind of good. Walking, for
informant declared that she never beheld walking's sake, becomes tedious. We
such an array of girlish health and beau- must not ignore the play-impulse in hu
ty. Englishwomen , again, have horse- man nature, which, according to Schiller,
manship and pedestrianism , in which is the foundation of all Art. In female
their ordinary feats appear to our healthy boarding -schools, teachers uniformly tes
women incredible. Thus, Mary Lamb tify to the aversion of pupils to the pre
writes to Miss Wordsworth, (both ladies scribed walk . Give them a sled , or a
being between fifty and sixty,) “ You say pair of skates, or a row -boat, or put them
you can walk fifteen miles with ease ; on horseback, and they will protract the
that is exactly my stint, and more fatigues period of cxercise till the teacher in turn
me” ; and then speaks pityingly of a grumbles. Put them into a gymnasium ,
delicate lady who could accomplish only with an efficient teacher, and they will
“ four or five miles every third or fourth soon require restraint, instead of urging.
day, keeping very quiet between . ” How Gymnastic exercises have two disad
few American ladies, in the fulness of vantages: one, in being commonly per
592 Saints, and their Bodies. [ March,
formed under cover (though this may forty -two and a half inches round the
sometimes prove an advantage as well) ; chest, and employed clubs weighing no
another, in requiring apparatus, and at less than forty-seven pounds.
first a teacher. These apart, perhaps no It may seem to our non - resistant
other forin of exercise is so universally friends to be going rather far, if we
invigorating. A teacher is required, less should indulge our saints in taking box
for the sake of stimulus than of precau- ing lessons; yet it is not long since a
tion . The tendency is almost always to New York clergyman saved his life in
dare too much ; and there is also need of Broadway by the judicious administra
a daily moderation in commencing exer- tion of a “ cross-counter ” or a “flying
cises; for the wise pupil will always pre- crook ," and we have not heard of bis ex
fer to supple his muscles by mild exer- communication from the Church Militant. • .

cises and calisthenics, before proceeding No doubt, a laudable aversion prevails, in

to harsher performances on the bars and this country, to the English practices of
ladders. With this precaution, strains pugilism ; yet it must be remembered that
are easily avoided ; even with this, the sparring is, by its very name, a “science
hand will sometimes blister and the body of self-defence ” ; and if a gentleman
ache, but perseverance will cure the one wishes to know how to hold a rude an
and Russia Salve the other ; and the tagonist at bay, in any emergency, and
invigorated life in every limb will give a keep out of an undignified scuffle, the
perpetual charm to those secmingly aim- mcans are most easily afforded him by
less leaps and somersets. The feats once the art which Pythagoras founded. Apart
learned , a private gymnasium can easily from this, boxing exercises every muscle
be constructed, of the simplest apparatus, in the body, and gives a wonderful quick
and so daily used ; though nothing can ness to eye and hand. These same re
wholly supply the stimulus afforded by a marks apply, though in a minor degree,
class in a public institution, with a com- to fencing also .
petent teacher. In summer, the whole Billiards is aa graceful game, and affords,
thing can partially be dispensed with ; in some respects, admirable training, but
but we are really unable to imagine how is hardly to be classed among athletic
any person gets through the winter hap- exercises. Tenpins afford, perhaps, the
pily without a gymnasium . most popular form of exercise among us,
For the favorite in -door exercise of and have become almost a national game,
dumb-bells we have little to say ; they and a good one, too, so far as it goes.
are not an enlivening performance, nor The English game of bowls is less enter
do they task a variety of muscles, —while taining, and is, indeed, rather a sluggislı
they are apt to strain and fatigue them , sport, though it has the merit of being
if used with energy. Far better, for a played in the open air. The severer
solitary exercise, is the Indian club, a British sports, as tennis and rackets, are
lineal descendant of that antique one in scarcely more than names, to us Ameri
cans.
whose handle rare medicaments were
fabled to be concealed. The modern one Passing now to out-door exercises,
is simply a rounded club, weighing from (and no one should confine himself to
four pounds upwards, according to the in -door ones,) we hold with the Thale
strength of the pupil; grasping a pair of sian school, and rank water first. Vish
these by the handles, he learns a variety nu Sarma gives, in his apologues, the
of exercises, having always before him characteristics of the fit place for a wise
the feats of the marvellous Mr. Harrison, man to live in, and enumerates among
whose praise is in the “Spirit of the its necessities first “ a Rajah ” and then
Times ,” and whose portrait adorns the “ a river .” Democrats as we are, we can
back of Dr. Trall's Gymnastics. By the dispense with the first, but not with the
latest bulletins, that gentleman measured second. A square mile even of pond
1858.] Saints, and their Bodies. 593

water is worth a year's schooling to any it is rare to see a swimmer venture out
intelligent boy. A boat is a kingdom . more than a rod or two, though this pro
We personally own one, -a mere flat- ceeds partly from the fear of sharks ,—as
bottomed “ float," with a centre-board. It if sharks of the dangerous order were
has seen service, —it is eight years old, -
not far more afraid of the rocks than
bas spent two winters under the ice, and the swimmers of being eaten. But the
been fished in by boys every day for as fact of the timidity is unquestionable ;
many summers. It grew at last so hope- and we were told by a certain clerical
lessly leaky, that even the boys disdained frequenter of a watering -place, himself
it. It cost seven dollars originally, and a robust swimmer, that he had never
we would not sell it to -day for seventeen . met but two companions who would
To own the poorest boat is better than venture boldly out with him , both being
hiring the best. It is a link to Nature; ministers, and one a distinguished Ex
without a boat, one is so much the less a President of Brown University. We
man . place this fact to the credit of the bodies
Sailing is of course delicious; it is as of our saints.
good as flying to steer anything with But space forbids us thus to descant
wings of canvas, whether one stand by on the details of all active exercises.
the wheel of a clipper-ship, or by the Riding may be left to the eulogies of
clumsy stern -oar of a “ gundalow .” But Mr. N. P. Willis, and cricket to Mr.
rowing has also its charins; and the In- Lillywhite's “ Guide. ” We will only say,
dian noiselessness of the paddle, beneath in passing, that it is pleasant to see the
the fringing branches of the Assabeth rapid spread of clubs for the latter game,
or Artichoke, puts one into Fairyland which a few years since was practised
at once, and Hiawatha's cheemaun be- only by a few transplanted Englishmen
comes a possible possession. Rowing is and Scotchmen ; and it is pleasant also
peculiarly graceful and appropriate as a to observe the twin growth of our in
feminine exercise, and any able-bodied digenous American game of base -ball,
girl can learn to handle one light oar at wbose briskness and unceasing activity
the first lesson, and two at the second ; are perhaps more congenial, after all, to
this, at least, we demand of our own pu- our national character, than the compar
pils. ative deliberation of cricket. Football,
Swimming has also a birdlike charm bating its roughness, is the most glorious
of motion . The novel element, the free of all games to those whose animal life
action, the abated drapery, give a sense is sufficiently vigorous to enjoy it. Skat
of personal contact with Nature which ing is just at present the fashion for
nothing else so fully bestows. No later ladies as well as gentlemen, and needs
triumph of existence is so fascinating, per- no apostle; the open weather of the
haps, as that in which the boy first wins current winter has been unusually favor
his panting way across the deep gulf that able for its practice, and it is destined
severs one green bank from another, (ten to become a permanent institution.
yards, perhaps,) and feels himself thence- A word, in passing, on the literature
forward lord of the watery world . The of athletic exercises; it is too scanty to
Athenian phrase for a man who knew detain us long. Five hundred books, it
nothing was, that he could “ neither is estimated, have been written on the
read nor swim ." Yet there is a vast digestive organs, but we shall not speak
amount of this ignorance; the major- of half a dozen in connection with the
ity of sailors, it is said, cannot swim muscular powers. The common Physi
a stroke ; and in a late lake disaster, ologies recommend exercise in general
many able - bodied men perished by terins, but seldom venture on details ;
drowning, in calm water, only half a unhappily, they are written, for the most
mile from shore. At our watering-places part, by men who have alrcady lost their
VOL. I. 38
594 Saints, and their Bodies. [ March,
own health, and are therefore useful as ical exercises which partake most of
warnings rather than examples. The the character of sports. Field -sports
first real book of gymnastics printed in alone we have omitted, because these
this country, so far as we know, was the are so often discussed by abler hands.
work of the veteran Salzmann, trans- Mechanical and horticultural labors lie
lated and published in Philadelphia, in out of our present province. So do the
1802, and sometimes to be met with in walks and labors of the artist and the
libraries, -an odd, desultory book, with man of science. The out-door study
many good reasonings and suggestions, of natural history alone is a vast field,
and quaint pictures of youths exercising even yet very little entered upon. In
in the old German costume. Like Dr. how many American towns or villages
Follen's gymnasium , at Cambridge, it are to be found local collections of nat
was probably transplanted too early, and
ural objects, such as every large town in
pr aced no effect. Next came, in Europe affords, and without which the
1836, the book which is still, after foundations of thorough knowledge can
twenty years, the standard , so far as it not be laid ? We can scarcely point to
goes, — Walker's " Manly Exercises,” — a any. We have innumerable fragmen
thoroughly English book , and needing tary and aimless “ Muscums, " — collec
adaptation to our habits, but full of manly tions of South - Sea shells in inland vil
vigor, and containing good and copious lages, and of aboriginal remains in seaport
directions for skating, swiinming, boat- towns,- mere curiosity -shops, which no
ing, and horsemanship. The only later man confers any real benefit by collect
general treatise worth naming is Dr. ing ; while the most ignorant person may
Trall's recently published “ Family Gym- be a true benefactor to science by form
»

nasium ,” — a good book, yet not good ing a cabinet, however scanty, of the
enough. On gymnastics proper it con- animal and vegetable productions of his
tains scarcely anything; and the essays own township. We have often heard
on rowing, riding, and skating are so Professor Agassiz lament this waste of
meagre , that they might almost as well energy , and we would urge upon all our
have been omitted, though that on swim- readers to do their share to remedy the
2

ming is excellent. The main body of defect, while they invigorate their bodies
the book is devoted to the subject of by the exercise which the effort will give,
calisthenics, and especially to Ling's sys- and the joyous open -air life into which
tem ; all this is valuable for its novelty, it will take them.
although we cannot imagine how a sys- For, after all, the secret charm of all
tem so tediously elaborate and so little these sports and studies is simply this,
interesting can ever be made very use- —that they bring us into more familiar
ful for American pupils. Miss Beecher intercourse with Nature. They give
has an excellent essay on calisthenics, us that vitam sub divo in which the .
with very useful figures, at the end of Roman exulted , —those out-door days,
9

her “ Physiology.” And on proper gym- which, say the Arabs, are not to be
nastic exercises there is a little book so reckoned in the length of life. Nay, to
full and admirable, that it atones for the a true lover of the open air, night be
defects of all the others, — “ Paul Pres- neath its curtain is as beautiful as day.
ton's Gymnasties,"— nominally a child's We personally have camped out un
book, but so spirited and graphic, and der a variety of auspices --before a fire
cntering so admirably into the whole of pine logs in the forests of Maine,
extent of the subject, that it ought to beside a blaze of faya -boughs on the
be reprinted and find ten thousand steep side of a foreign volcano, and
readers. beside no fire at all, (except a possible
In our own remarks, we have pur- one of Sharp's rifles,) in that domestic
posely confined ourselves to those phys volcano, Kansas; and every such re
1858.] By the Dead. 595

membrance is worth many nights of in- beauty of the universe, who has not
door slumber. We never found a week learned the subtile mystery, that Nature
in the year, nor an hour of day or night loves to work on us by indirections.
which had not, in the open air, its own Astronomers say, that, when observing
special beauty. We will not say, with with the naked eye, you see a star less
Reade's Australians, that the only use of clearly by looking at it, than by looking
a house is to sleep in the lee of it ; but at the next one. Margaret Fuller's fine
there is method in even that madness. saying touches the same point, — " Nature
As for rain, it is chiefly formidable in- will not be stared at. ” Go out merely
doors. Lord Bacon used to ride with to enjoy her, and it seems a little tame,
uncovered head in a shower, and loved and you begin to suspect yourself of
" to feel the spirit of the universe upon affectation . We know persons who, after
his brow " ; and we once knew an enthu- years of abstinence from athletic sports
siastic hydropathic physician who loved or the pursuits of the naturalist or artist,
to expose himself in thunder-storms at have resumed them , simply in order to
midnight, without a shred of earthly restore to the woods and the sunsets the
clothing between himself and the at- zest of the old fascination . Go out un
mosphere. Some prudent persons may der pretence of shooting on the marshes
possibly regard this as being rather an or botanizing in the forests ; study en
extreme, while yet their own extreme tomology, that most fascinating, most
of avoidance of every breath from heav- neglected of all the branches of natural
en is really the more extravagantly un- history ; go to paint a red maple-leaf in
reasonable of the two. autumn, or watch a pickerel-line in win
It is easy for the sentimentalist to say, ter ; meet Nature on the cricket ground
“ But if the object is, after all, the enjoy- or at the regatta ; swim with her, ride
ment of Nature, why not go and enjoy with her, run with her, and she gladly
her, without any collateral aim ?? Be- takes you back once more within the
cause it is the universal experience of horizon of her magic, and your heart of
man , that, if we have a collateral aim , we manhood is born again into more than
enjoy her far more. He knows not the the fresh happiness of the boy.

BY THE DEAD.

PRIDE that sat on the beautiful brow ,

Scorn that lay in the arching lips,
Will of the oak -grain , where are ye now ?
I may dare to touch her finger- tips !
Deep, flaming eyes, ye are shallow enough ;
The steadiest fire burns out at last.
Throw back the shutters,—the sky is rough,
And the winds are high ,—but the night is pasto

Mother, I speak with the voice of a man ;

Death is between us, I stoop no more ;
And yet so dim is cach new -born plan,
I am feebler than ever I was before, -
596 By the Dead. [Darch,
Feebler than when the western hill
Faded away with its sunset gold.
Mother, your voice seemed dark and chill,
And your words made my young heart very cold .

You talked of fame,--but my thoughts would stray

To the brook that laughed across the lane ;
And of hopes for me,—but your hand's light play
On my brow was ice to my shrinking brain ;
And you called me your son , your only son,
But I felt your eye on my tortured heart
To and fro, like a spider, run ,
On a quivering web ; — 'twas a cruel art !
But crueller, crueller far, the art
Of the low, quick laugh that Memory hears!
Mother, I lay my head on your heart ;
Has it throbbed even once these fifty years ?
Throbbed even once, by some strange heat thawed ?
It would then have warmed to her, poor thing,
Who echoed your laugh with a cry !-O God,
When in my soul will it cease to ring ?

Starlike her eyes were, — but yours were blind ;

Sweet her red lips, but yours were curled ;
Pure her young heart - but yours, -ah, you find
This,mother, is not the only world !
She came,-bright gleam of the dawning day ;
She went,-pale dream of the winding -sheet.
Mother, they come to me and say
Your headstone will almost touch her feet !

You are walking now in a strange, dim land :

Tell me, has pride gone with you there ?
Does aa frail white form before you stand,
And tremble to earth, beneath your stare ?
No, no -she is strong in her pureness now,
And Love to Power no more defers.
I fear the roses will never grow
On your lonely grave as they do on hers !

But now from those lips one last, sad touch,-

Kiss it is not, and has never been ;
In my boyhood's sleep I dreamed of such,
And shuddered ,—they were so cold and thin !
There,—now cover the cold, white face,
Whiter and colder than statue stone !
Mother, you have aa resting-place;
But I am weary, and all alone !
1858.] Aaron Burr. 597

AARON BURR . *

The life of Aaron Burt is an admi- effort in some useful occupation, rose
rable subject for a biographer. He be- slowly to distinguished place, —who dis
longed to a class of men, rare in Ameri- played high •talents, and made an honor
ca, who are remarkable, not so much for able use of them . Aaron Burr , how
their talents or their achievements, as ever, is an exception. His adventures,
for their adventures and the vicissitudes his striking relations with the leading
of their fortunes. Europe has produced men of his time, his romantic enter
many such men and women : political prises, the crimes and the talents which
intriguers; royal favorites; adroit cour- have been attributed to him , bis sudden
tiers; adventurers who carried their elevation, and his protracted and ago
swords into every scene of danger; cour- nizing humiliation have attached to his
tesans who controlled the affairs of states; name a strange and peculiar interest.
persevering schemers who haunted the Mr. Parton has done a good service in
purlieus of courts, plotted treason in gar- recalling a character which had well
rets, and levied war in fine ladies' bou- nigh passed out of popular thought,
doirs. though not entirely out of popular rec
In countries where all the social and ollection .
political action is concentrated around As to the manner in which this ser
the throne, where a pretty woman may vice has been performed, it is impossible
decide the policy of a reign, a royal mar- to speak very highly. The book has
riage plunge nations into war, and the evidently cost its author great pains ; it
disgrace of a favorite cause the down- is filled with detail, and with consider
fall of a party, such persons find an able gossip concerning the hero, which is
ample field for the exercise of the arts piquant, and, if true, important. The
upon which they depend for success . style is meant to be lively, and in some
The history and romance of Modern passages is pleasant enough ; but it is
Europe are full of them ; they crowd mårked with a flippancy, which, after a
the pages of Macaulay and Scott. But few pages, becomes very disagreeable.
the full sunlight of our republican life It abounds with the slang usually con
leaves no lurking-place for the mere fined to sporting papers. According to
trickster. Doubtless, selfish purposes the author, a civil man is “ as civil as an
influence our statesmen , as well as the orange," a well-dressed man is “got up
statesmen of other countries; but such regardless of expense ,” and an unob
purposes cannot be accomplished here served action is done “on the sly." He
by the means which effect them else- affects the intense, and, in his pages,
where. He who wishes to attract the newspapers “ go rabid and foam person
»

attention of a people must act publicly alities,” are “ ablaze with victories ” and
and with reference to practical matters; “ bristling with bulletins," — the public is
but the ear of a monarch may be reach- in a “ delirium ," — the politicians are
ed in private. Therefore there is a cer- “ maddened , ” — letters are written in
»
tain monotony in the lives of most of our “ hot haste,” and proclamations “sent
public men ; they may be read in the flying." He appears to be on terms of
life of one. It is, generally, a simple intimacy with historical personages such
story of a poor youth, who was born in as few writers are fortunate enough to
humble station, and who, by painful be admitted to. He approves a remark
* The Life and Times of Aaron Burr. By of George II. and patronizingly ex
J. Parton. New York : Mason, Brothers. claims, “ Sensible King ! ” He has oc
1857. casion to mention John Adams, and sa
598 Aaron Burr. [March,
lutes him thus : “ Glorious, delightful, entered public life, he became Vice-Pres
honest John Adams ! An American ident. Hamilton was a member of Con
John Bull ! The Comic Uncle of this gress at twenty -five, and at thirty -two was
exciting drama ! ” He then calls him Secretary of the Treasury ; Jefferson
" a high -mettled game-cock," and says wrote the great Declaration when only
" he made a splendid show of fight.” thirty -two years old ; and the present
Such little foibles and vanities might Vice - President is a much younger man
easily be pardoned, if the book had no than Burr was when he reached that
more important defects. It professes to station. The statement, that Burr was
explain portions of our history hitherto the rival of Washington and Adams for
not perfectly understood, and it contains the Presidency, is absurd. Under the
many statements for the truth of which Constitution, at that time, each elector
we must rely upon the good sense and voted for two persons,—the candidate
accuracy of the writer ; yet it is full of who received the greatest number of
errors, and often evinces a disposition to votes (if a majority of the whole ) being
exaggeration little calculated to produce declared President, and the one having
confidence in its reliability. the next highest number Vice-President.
Our space will not permit us to point In 1792, at which time Burr received
out all the mistakes which Mr. Parton one vote in the Electoral College, all the
has made, and we will mention only a electors voted for Washington ; conse
few which attracted our attention upon quently the vote for Burr, upon the
the first perusal of his book . His hero strength of which Mr. Parton makes his
was appointed Lieutenant- Colonel when magnificent boast, was palpably for the
only twenty -one years of age, and the Vice- Presidency. In 1796, the Presi
author says that he was “the youngest dential candidates were Adams and Jef
man who held that rank in the Revolu- ferson, for one or the other of whom eve
tionary army, or who has ever held it in ry elector voted ,—the votes for Burr, in
an army of the United States. " Alex- this instance thirty in number, being, as
ander Hamilton and Brockholst Liv- before, only for the Vice-Presidency.
ingston both reached that rank at twenty Even in 1800, when the votes for Jeffer
years of age .-- Mr. Parton tells us that son and Burr in the Electoral College
Burt's rise in politics was more 66 rapid were equal, it is notorious that this equal
than that of any other man who has ity was simply the result of their being
played a conspicuous part in the affairs supported on the same ticket,—the for
of the United States " ; and that “ in four mer for the office of President, and the
years after fairly entering the political latter for that of Vice - President. Mr.
arena, he was advanced, first, to the Parton says, that, in the House of
highest honor of the bar, next, to a seat Representatives, Burr would have been
in the National Council, and then , to a elected on the first ballot, if a majority
competition with Washington, Adams, would have sufficed ; and that Mr. Jef
Jefferson, and Clinton, for the Presi- ferson never received more than fifty
dency itself.” He could hardly have one votes in a House of one hundred
crowded more errors into a single para- and six members. Had he taken the
graph. Burr never attained the highest trouble to examine Gales's “ Annals of
honor of the bar. His first appearance Congress " for 1799–1801 , he would have
in politics was as a member of the Le- found that the House consisted of one
gislature of New York, in 1784, when hundred and four members, two seats
twenty -cight years old ; five years after, being vacant; and that on the first bal
he was appointed Attorney -General; in lot Jefferson received fifty -five votes, a
1791 he was elected to the Senate of the majority of six.- We are several times
United States ; and in 1801 , at the age of told that Robert R. Livingston was one
forty -five, seventeen years after he fairly of the framers of the Constitution. Mr.
1858.] Aaron Burr. 599

Livingston was not a member of the most curious exhibition which Mr. Parton
Constitutional Convention ; the only per- makes of this mental and moral confu
son of the name in that body was Wil- sion occurs in a passage where he at
liam Livingston, Governor of New Jer- tempts to prove his assertion, that “ Burr
sey.—Mr. Parton comes into conflict with has done the state some service, though
other writers upon matters affecting his they know it not. ” This service, of which
hero, as to which he would have done the state has continued so obstinately ig
well if he had given his authority. Mat- norant, consists mainly in having invented
thew L. Davis, Burr's first biographer and filibustering, and in having brought du
intimate friend, says that Burr's grand- elling into disgrace by killing Hamilton .
father was a German ; Parton, speaking “ That was a benefit,” our moralist grave
of the family at the time of the birth of ly remarks concerning this last claim to
Burr's father, says that it was Puritan and gratitude. Certainly ; just such a bene
had flourished in New England for three fit as Captain Kidd conferred upon the
generations. Mr. Parton makes Burr a world ; he brought piracy into disgrace by
witness of a dramatic interview between being hanged for it. As to the invention
Mrs. Arnold and Mrs. Prevost shortly af- of filibustering, we are hardly disposed
ter the discovery of Arnold's treason, the to rank Burr with Fulton and Morse for
particulars of which Davis says Burr ob- his valuable discovery; but perhaps the
tained from the latter lady after she be- shades of Lopez and De Boulbon, and
the living " gray -eyed man of destiny,"
came his wifc . - Our author is not consist-
ent in his own statements. Upon one will worship him as the founder of their
page he describes Mrs. Prevost, about the order.
time of her marriage, as “ the beautiful It is impossible to define Mr. Parton's
Mrs. Prevost ” ; a few pages farther on opinion of his hero. It is not very clear
he says she was “ not beautiful, being to himself. He is inclined to adınire him ,
past her prime.” He informs us that it and is quite sure that he has been harshly
is the fashion to underrate Jefferson, that dealt with . In the Preface he intimates
the polite circles and writers of the coun- that it is his purpose to exhibit Burr's
try have never sympathized with bim , - good qualities,-for, as he says, “ it is
and in the very same paragraph he re- the good in a man who goes astray that
marks that “ Thomas Jefferson has been ought most to alarm and warn his fellow
for fifty years the victim of incessant men.” The converse of which proposi
eulogy ." tion we suppose the author thinks equal
This carelessness in reciting facts is ly true, and that it is the evil in a man
associated with a certain confusion of who does not go astray which ought most
mind. Mr. Parton does not appear to to delight and attract his fellow -men. At
have the power of distinguishing between the end of the volume Mr. Parton makes
conflicting statements of the same thing. a summary of Burr's character,-says that
He describes Hamilton as honest and he was too good for a politician, and not
generous, and then accuses him of ma- great enough for a statesman ,—that Na
lignity and dishonorable intrigue. He ture meant him for a schoolmaster,—that
says that Wilkinson, at that time a gener- he was a useful Senator, an ideal Vice
al in the United States service, may have President, and would have been a good
thought of hastening the dissolution of President,—and that, if his Mexican ex
the Union “ without being in any sense pedition had succeeded , he would have
a traitor. ” How an officer can meditate run a career similar to that of Napo
the destruction of a government which leon. We do not dare attack this ex
he has sworn to protect, and not be in traordinary eulogy. To describe a man
any sense of the word a traitor, will puz- as not great enough for a statesman , yet
zle minds not educated in what the au- fitted to make a good President, as a nat
thor calls “the Burr school. ” But the ural-born schoolmaster and at the same
600 Aaron Burr . [March,
time a Napoleon, argues a boldness of litical course and contest with Jefferson ;
conception which makes criticism dan- the duel ; and the Mexican expedition.
gerous. Upon the first and most pleasing portion
Mr. Parton occasionally assumes an air of his life we cannot dwell. He entered
of impartiality , and mildly expresses his the service shortly after the battle of
disapprobation of Burr's vices; but in Bunker Hill, and in two years rose to a
every instance where those vices were Lieutenant - Colonelcy. Though engaged
displayed he earnestly defends him. In in several important battles, he did not
the contest with Jefferson, Parton insists have an opportunity to display great mil
that Burr acted honorably ; in the duel itary talents, if he possessed them . He
with Hamilton , Burr was the injured par- was distinguished, but not more so than
ty ; in his amours he was not a bad man ; many otheryoung men. He resigned in
so that, although we are told that Burr' the spring of 1779,-as he alleged, on
had faults, we look in vain for any exhi- account of ill health, but more probably
bition of them . In the cases where we because the failure of the Lee and Con
have been accustomed to think that his way intrigue had disappointed his hopes
passions led him into crime, he either dis-
of promotion.
played the strictest virtue, or, at most, As an indication of character, the most
sinned in so gentlemanlike a manner, important circumstance of Burr's mili
with so much kindness and generosity, tary life was his quarrel with Washington.
as hardly to sin at all. This difficulty is said to have grown out
There are three ways of writing a biog- of some scandalous affair in which Burt .
raphy : one is, to make a simple narra- was engaged, a belief which is strength
tive and leave the reader to form his own ened by his intrigue with the beautiful
opinion ; another, to present the facts so and unfortunate Margaret Moncrieffe a
as to illustrate the author's conception few months after. But aside from any
of his hero's character; a third, and the such cause , there was ground enough for
most common way, to proceed like an difference in the characters of the two
advocate, to suppress everything which men . Discipline compelled Washington
can be suppressed, to sneer at every- to hold his subordinates at a distance of
thing which cannot be answered, to put implied, if not asserted inferiority; and
the most favorable construction upon all Burr never met a man to whom he
dubious matters, and to throw the strong thought himself inferior. Mr. Parton's
est light upon every fortunate circum- explanation is, that “ Hamilton probably
stance . Mr. Parton has tried all three implanted a dislike for Burr in Washing
modes, and failed in all. He is an un- ton's breast. ” The only difficulty with
skilful delineator of character, a poor this theory is one which the author's sup
story-teller, and a worse advocate. His positions often encounter, - it has no
book, despite its spasmodic style, lacks foundation in fact. At the time that
vigor. It indicates a want of fimmness Burr was in Washington's family, Ham
and precision of thought. It leaves a ilton was probably not acquainted with
mixed impression on the mind. We ven- the General ; he did not enter his staff
ture to say, that two thirds of its readers until nine months after Burr had left it.
will close the volume with an indefinite Burr entered public life at the only
contradictory opinion that Burr was a period in our history when a man of his
sort of villanous saint, and that the other stamp of mind could have played a con
third, by no means the most inattentive spicuous part. At the close of the Revo
readers, will not be able to form any ' lution, in addition to the Tories, there
opinion whatever . were already two political factions in
There are four periods or events in New York. As early ase1777 the Whigs
the life of Burr which are worthy of at- had divided upon the election for Gov
tention : his career in the army ; his po ernor, and George Clinton was chosen
1858.] Aaron Burr. 601

over Philip Schuyler. The division then when politics were looked upon almost
created continued after the peace, but the wholly as the means of personal and
differences were, at first, purely personal. family aggrandizement, and the motives
Schuyler was the leader of a party made of party conduct such as flow from the
up of a few great families, most promi- passions of men, he, more than any of
nent among which were the Van Rensse- his opponents, adhered to a consistent
laers and Livingstons. The Van Rensse- and not illiberal theory of public action .
laers have never been particularly dis- At the outset of his political career,
tinguished except as the possessors of a Burr acted upon the policy which al
great estate ; the Livingstons, on the oth- ways governed him . He attached him
er hand, second only to the great Dutch self closely to neither party. Wben the
family in wealth, far surpassed them in political issues grew broader, he was
political power and reputation. The Van careful not to connect himself with any
Rensselaers and Schuylers were connect- measure . He did not heartily oppose
ed with the Livingstons by marriage; and the abolition of the Tory disabilities, nor
this powerful association, made more pow .' the adoption of the Constitution. He
erful by the banishment of the wealthy was a Clintonian, but not so decidedly as
inhabitants of New York city and Long to prevent him from attempting to defeat
Island, was still further strengthened by Clinton. With a few adherents, he stood
the connection with it of Alexander between the two parties and maintained
Hamilton, who married a daughter of a position where he could avail himself
Philip Schuyler, and John Jay, who mar- of any overtures which might be made
ried a daughter of William Livingston. to him ; yet he was careful to be so far
The Schuyler faction excited that oppo identified with one side as to be able to
sition which wealth and social and polit- claim some political association whenever
ical influence always excite. A party it became necessary to do so . His suc
arose which was composed of men of eve- cess in this artful course was remarkable.
ry condition and shade of opinion ,—those Nominally aa Clintonian, in 1789 he sup
who were galled by the exclusiveness of ported Yates, and a few months after
the aristocracy ,—those who had joined wards took office under Clinton . In
the opposition to Washington ,—theyoung 1791 , while holding a place under a Re
men who had made their reputation dur- publican governor, he persuaded a Fed
ing the war and were eager for profes- eral legislature to send him to the Senate
sional and political promotion , —and all of the United States. In the Senate he
those who were converts to the new sided with the opposition, but so moder
doctrines of government which the dis- ately that some Federalists were willing
pute with England had originated. At to support him for Governor. The Re
the head of these was George Clinton. publicans nominated him for the Vice
Though a man of liberal education, and Presidency, and shortly after, the Fed
trained to a liberal profession, he had eralists in Congress, almost in a body,
not the showy and attractive accomplish- voted for him for the Presidency. Dur
ments which distinguished his rivals; but ing all this time, his name was not
he possessed in an extraordinary degree associated with any important measure
those more sturdy qualities of mind and except a fraudulent banking-scheme in
character which, in a country where dis- New York .
tinction is in the gift of the people, are The occasion of his elevation to the
always generously rewarded . He had Vice -Presidency is a perfect illustration
great aptitude for business, aa clear and of the accidental circumstances and un
rapid judgment, and high physical and important services to which he was gen
moral courage. He was faithful to his erally indebted for advancement. From
friends, and though an unyielding, he the commencement of the Presidential
was a magnanimous foe. At a time canvass of 1800, it was evident that the
602 Aaron Burr . [ March,
action of New York would control the solely due to his labors at this election ,
election. That State then had twelve but in part also to his subsequent ad
votes in the Electoral College ; but the dress. The importance of New York
electors were chosen by the Legislature, made it desirable to select the candidate
-not, as at present, by the people. The for the Vice-Presidency from that State.
parties in New York were nearly equal, A caucus of the Republican members of
and the result in the Legislature was very Congress directed Mr. Gallatin to ascer
doubtful. The city of New York sent tain who would be the most acceptable
twelve members to the Assembly, and candidate. He wrote to Commodore
usually determined the political com- Nicholson , asking him to discover the
plexion of that body. Thus the contest sentiments of the leading men in the
in the nation was narrowed down to a State. The names of Livingston, George
single city, and that not a large one. Clinton, and Burr had been suggested.
This gave Burr a favorable field for the Livingston was deaf, and Nicholson is
exercise of his peculiar talents. His en- said to have deterinined to recommend
ergy, tact, unscrupulousness, and art in ' Clinton. Burr, however, saw him after
conciliating the hostile and animating the wards, and persuaded him to substitute
indifferent made him unequalled in polit- his name instead of Clinton's in the let
ical finesse. He did not hesitate to use ter which he had prepared to send to
any means in his power. Some one Philadelphia. Col. Burr was according
in his pay overheard the discussion in ly placed upon the Republican ticket.
a Federal caucus, and revealed to him The tie vote between Jefferson and
the plans of his opponents. He had be- Burr, which unexpectedly occurred in
come unpopular, and had brought odium the Electoral College, has given rise to the
upon his party by a corrupt speculation ; assertion that Burr endeavored to defeat
he therefore declined presenting bis own Jefferson and secure his own election.
name, and made a ticket comprehend- Mr. Parton devotes a chapter to the
ing the most distinguished persons in refutation of this charge, but does not
the Republican ranks. George Clinton, succeed in making a very strong argu
Gen. Gates, and Brockholst Livingston ment. The evidence of Burr's treachery
were placed at the head of it. The most is as positive as from the nature of the
urgent solicitations were necessary to case it can be. Of course , he made no
persuade these gentlemen to consent to open pledges ; it was unnecessary, anıl
a nomination for places which were be- it would have been impolitic to do so.
neath their pretensions, but Burr answer- The main fact cannot be denicd, that
ed every objection and overcame every for several weeks before and after the
scruple. The respectability of the can- election went to the House of Repre
didates and the vigorous prosecution of sentatives, Burr was openly supported
the canvass carried the city by a consid- by the Federalists in opposition to Jeffer
erable majority, and insured the election son . Burr knew it ; everybody knew it.
of Mr. Jefferson . Mr. Parton finds in Why was this support given ? It will re
this abundant material for extravagant quire plain proof to satisfy any one who
eulogy of Burr. But most people will is familiar with the motives of political ac
be surprised to learn that such services tion, that a party would have so earnestly
constituted a claim to the Vice- Presi- advocated the election of any man with
dency. If being an adroit politician out good reason to suppose that he would
entitles a person to high office, there is make an adequate return for its support.
not a town in New York which cannot There was but one course which Burr, in
furnish half a dozen statesmen whose honor, could take ; he should have per
exploits have been far more remarkable emptorily refused to permit his name to
than Burr's. be used. A word from him would have
Burr's nomination , however, was not ended the matter ; but that word was
1858.] Aaron Burr. 603

not spoken. The evidence on the other action can be which is intrinsically wrong
side consists of some statements made and absurd .” By this we understand him
several years after, by parties concerned , to say that the course of Col. Burr was
which are by no means so direct and in accordance with the etiquette which
unequivocal as might be wished ,-- and of then governed men of the world in such
a series of depositions taken in some law- affairs. We think differently.
suits instituted by Col. Burr to investi- During the election for Governor,
gate the truth of this charge. One cir- Dr. Cooper, of Albany, heard Hamilton
cumstance, which seems to have escaped declare that he was opposed to Burr,
the notice of our biographer, casts sus- and made a public statement to that ef
picion upon all these documents. Burrfect. Gen. Schuyler denied the truth of
applied to Samuel Smith, a United States this assertion, which Dr. Cooper then
Senator from Maryland, for his testi- reiterated in a published letter, saying
mony. Smith gives the following account that Hamilton and Judge Kent had both
of the transaction :- “ Col. Burr called characterized Burr as “ aa dangerous man ,
on me. I told him that I had written and one who ought not to be trusted with
my deposition, and would have a fair the reins of government,” and that “ he
copy made of it. He said, Trust it to could detail a still more despicable opin
me and I will get Mr. to copy it! I ion which Gen. Hamilton had expressed
did so, and, on his returning it to me, I of Mr. Burr ." Nearly two months after
found words not mine interpolated in the this letter was written, Burr addressed a
copy .” It is not worth while to discuss note to Hamilton asking for an unquali
a defence which was made out by for- fied acknowledgment or denial of the
gery . use of any expression which would justi
His election to the Vice-Presidency fy Dr. Cooper's assertion . The dispute
terminated Burr's official career. He turned upon the words “ more despica
was deserted by his party, and denounced ble,” and as to them there obviously were
by the Republican press. Burning with many difficulties. Cooper thought that
resentment, he turned upon his enemies, the expression, “ a dangerous man and
and, supported by the Federalists, be- one who ought not to be trusted with the
came a candidate for the Governorship reins of government,” conveyed a despi
of New York, in opposition to the Re- cable opinion ; but many persons might
publican nominee. Hamilton , who alone think that such language did not go be
among the Federal statesmen had open- yond the reasonable limits of political
ly opposed Burr during the contest for animadversion . Burr himself made no
the Presidency, again separated from his objection to that particular phrase ; he
party, and earnestly denounced him. did not allude to it except by way of
Burr was defeated by an enormous ma- explanation . The use of such language
jority. His disappointment and anger at was common . In his celebrated attack
being again foiled by Hamilton prompt- upon John Adams, Hamilton had spoken
ed him to the most notorious and unfor- of Mr. Jefferson as an ineligible and
tunate act of his life. dangerous candidate. ” The same words
In speaking of his duel with Gen. had been publicly applied to Burr him
Hamilton, we do not intend to judge Col. self, two years before. He did not see
Burr's conduct by the rules by which anything despicable in the opinion then
a more enlightened public opinion now expressed . A man may be unfit for
judges the duellist. He and his adversary office from lack of capacity, and danger
acted according to the custom of their ous on account of his principles. The
time; by that standard let them be meas- most rigid construction of the Code of
ured . Mr. Parton thinks that the chal- Honor has never compelled a person to
lenge was as 66 near an approach to a fight every fool whom he thought un
reasonable and inevitable action as an worthy of public station, and every dem
604 Aaron Burr. [March,
agogue whose views he considered un- been the sole subject of discussion, and
sound. If Dr. Cooper, then, was able to peremptorily insisted that Gen. Hamilton
discover a despicable opinion where most should deny ever having made remarks
people could find none, might he not from which inferences derogatory to him
have seen what he called a more des- could fairly have been drawn. This
picable opinion in some remark equal- demand was plainly unjustifiable. No
ly innocent ? Burr did not ask what person would answer such an interroga
were the precise terms of the remark tory. It showed that Burt's desire was,
to which Cooper alluded ; he demanded not to satisfy his honor, but to goad his
that Hamilton should disavow Cooper's adversary to the field. It establishes the
construction of that expression. He took general charge, which Parton virtually
offence, not at what had been said, but admits, that it was not passion excited by
at the inference which another had a recent insult which impelled him to
drawn from what had been said . The revenge, but hatred engendered iring
justification of such an inference de- years of rivalry and stimulated by his
-

volved upon Cooper, not Hamilton,- late defeat. Burr must long have known
who by no rule of courtesy could be in- Hamilton's feelings towards him. Those
terrogated as to the justice of another's feelings had been freely expressed ; and
opinions. These difficulties presented Burr's letters discover that he was fully
themselves the mind of Hamilton . He aware of the distrust and hostility with
stated them in his reply, declared that he which he was regarded by his political
was ready to answer for any precise or associates and opponents. A man has
definite opinion which he had express- no claim to satisfaction for an insult giv
ed, but refused to explain the import en years ago. The entire theory of the
which others had placed upon his lan- duello makes it impossible for one to ask
guage. Unfortunately, the last line of redress for an injury which he has long
his note contained an intimation that he permitted to go unredressed. The ques
expected a challenge. Burr rudely re- tion being, not whether the practice of
torted, reiterating his demand in most in- duelling is wrong, but whether Burr was
solent terms. The correspondence then wrong according to that practice, we
passed into the bands of Nathaniel Pen- have no difficulty in concluding that the
dleton on the part of Hamilton, and challenge was given upon vague and un
William P. Van Ness, a man of peculiar justifiable grounds, and that Gen. Ham
malignity of character, upon the part of ilton would have been excusable, if he
Burr. The responsibility of his position had refused to meet him.
weighing upon Hamilton's mind, before It may be said , that, if Hamilton ac
the final step was taken, he voluntarily cepted an improper challenge, he should
stated that the conversation with Dr. receive the same condemnation as the
Cooper “related exclusively to political one who gave it. But, even on general
topics, and did not attribute to Burr any grounds, some qualification should be
instance of dishonorable conduct,” and made in favor of the challenged party.
again offered to explain any specific re- His is a different position from that of the
mark. This generous, unusual, and, ac- challenger. A sensitive man, though he
cording to strict etiquette, unwarranted think that he is improperly questioned,
proposition removed at once Burr's cause may have some delicacy about making
of complaint. Had he been disposed to his own judgment the rule of another's
an honorable accommodation, he would conduct. Besides, there were many con
have received Hamilton's proposal in siderations peculiar to this case. The
the spirit in which it was made. But menacing tone of Burr's first note made
embarrassed by this liberal offer, he at it evident that he meant to force the quar
once changed his ground, abandoned rel to a bloody issue: Hamilton, jealous
Cooper's remark , which had previously of his reputation for courage, could not
1858.) Aaron Burr. 605

run the risk of appearing anxious to wards thought that it was his intention
avoid a danger so apparent. Moreover, by this slight act to express his desire to
he was conscious, that, during his life, he bury all personal differences between Mr.
had said many things which might give Adams and himself. These, and various
Burr cause for offence, and he was un- other little incidents, show that he felt
willing to avail himself of a technical, his death to be certain ; yet all his busi
though reasonable objection, to escape ness in court and out was marked by his
the consequences of his own remarks. ordinary clearness and ability, all his in
Neither could he apologize for what he tercourse with his family and friends by
still thought was true. These consider his usual sweetness and cheerfulness of
ations were doubly powerful with Hamil- disposition.
ton . His early manhood had been pass- On the Fourth of July,7 Hamilton and
ed in camps ; his early fame had been Burr met at the annual banquet of the
won in the profession of arnis. He was Society of Cincinnati. Hamilton pre
a man of the world. He had never dis- sided . No one was afterwards able to
countenanced duelling ;3 he himself had remember that his manner gave any in
been engaged in the affair between Lau- dication of the dreadful event which was
rens and Lee; and a few years before, his so near at hand. He joined freely in the
own son had fallen in a duel. Neither conversation and badinage of such occa
his education nor his professions nor his sions, and towards the close of the feast
practice could excuse him. It was too sang aa song , -- the only one he knew ,-- the
late to take shelter behind his general ballad of the Drum . But many remem
disapproval of a custom which was rec- bered that Burr was silent and moody.
ognized by his professional brethren and He did not look towards Hamilton until
had been countenanced by himself. It is he began to sing, when he fixed his eyes
true that he would have shown a higher upon him and gazed intently at him until
courage by braving an ignorant and the song was ended.
brutal public opinion, but it would be Hamilton was living at the Grange,
unjust to censure bim for not showing a his country -seat, near Manhattanville.
degree of courage which no man of his The place is still unchanged. His office
day displayed. He and Burr are to be was in a small house on Cedar Street,
measured by their own standard, not by where he likewise found lodgings when
ours ; and tried by that test, it is easy to necessary . The night previous to the
see a difference between one who ' ac- duel was passed there. We have been
cepts and one who sends an unjustifiable told by an aged citizen of New York,
challenge ; it is the difference which ex- that Hamilton was seen long after mid
ists between an error and a crime. night walking to and fro in front of the
There was an interval of two weeks house .
between the message and the meeting. During these last hours both parties
This was required by Hamilton to finish wrote a few farewell lines. In no act
some important law business. When he of their lives does the difference in the
went to White Plains to try causes, he characters of Hamilton and Burr show
was in the habit of staying at a friend's itself so distinctly as in these parting let
house . The last time he visited there, a ters . Hamilton was oppressed by the
few days before his death, he said, upon difficulties and responsibilities of his situ
leaving, “ I shall probably never come ation. His duty to his creditors and his
here again .” During this period he in- family forbade him rashly to expose a
vited Col. Wm. Smith, and his wife, who life which was so valuable to them ; his
was the only daughter of John Adams, duty to his country forbade him to leave
to dine with him . Some rare old Madeira so evil an example ; he was not conscious
which had been given to him was pro of ill- will towards Col. Burr ; and his na
duced on this occasion, and it was after- ture revolted at the thought of destroying
606 Aaron Burr. [ March,
human life in a private quarrel. These gret, when he saw his adversary fall;
thoughts, and the considerations of pride but his second hurried him from the
and ambition which nevertheless con- field, screening him with an umbrella
trolled him , are beautifully expressed from the recognition of the surgeon and
in language which is full of pathos and bargemen.
manly dignity. He had made his will Hamilton was carried to the house of
the day before. He was distressed lest Mr. Bayard, in the suburbs of the city.
his estate should prove insufficient to pay The news flew through the town, produc
his debts, and, after committing their ing intense excitement. Bulletins were
mother to the filial protection of his chil- posted at the Tontine, and changed with
dren, he besought them , as his last re- every new report. Crowds soon gather
quest, to vindicate his memory by mak- ed around Mr. Bayard's house , and in the
ing up any deficiency which might occur .grounds. So deep was the feeling, that
Burr's letters to Theodosia and her hus- visitors were permitted to pass one by
band are mainly occupied with directions one through the room where Gen. Ham
as to the disposal of his property and pa- ilton was lying. From the first, there
pers. The tone of them does not differ was no hope of his recovery. This opin
greatly from that of his ordinary corre- ion of the most eminent surgeons in the
spondence. They do not contain aa word city was concurred in by the surgeons
such as an affectionate father or a patri- of two French frigates in the harbor, who
otic citizen would have written at such were consulted. Gen. Hamilton was a
a time. They do not express a senti- man of slight frame, and aa disorder, from
ment such as a generous and thoughtful which he had recently suffered , prevent
man would naturally feel on the eve of cd the use of the ordinary remedies. He
60 momentous an occurrence . There are retained his composure to the last ; nor
no misgivings as to the propriety of his was his fortitude disturbed until his seven
conduct, nor a whisper of regret at the children approached his bedside. He
unfortunate circumstances which , as he gave them one look, and, closing his eyes,
professed to think, compelled him to seek did not open them again while they re
another's blood . He addressed to his mained in the room . He expired at two
daughter a few lines of graceful com- o'clock on the day after the duel.
pliment, and, in striking contrast with He was not the only victim . His oldest
Hamilton's injunction to his children , daughter, a girl of twenty, whose educa
Burr's last request with regard to Theo tion he had carefully directed, and whose
dosia is, that she shall acquire a “ crit- musical talents gave him great pleasure,
ical knowledge of Latin , English, and never recovered from the shock of her
all branches of natural philosophy .” father's death . In her disordered fancy,
The combatants met on the 11th of she visited by night the fatal ground
July, 1804, at a place beneath the heights at Weehawken, and told her friends
of Weehawken, upon the New Jersey that she crossed the river and returned
side of the Hudson ,—the usual resort, at before morning. Her mind soon gave
that time, for such encounters. Burr way entirely ; and only last spring death
fired the moment the word was given, released her from a total, though gentle
raising his arm deliberately and taking insanity of fifty years' duration.
aim. The ball struck Hamilton on the The sudden and tragic death of Al
side, and, as he reeled under the blow, exander Hamilton produced a universal
his pistol was discharged into the air. feeling of sympathy and sorrow . As the
“ I should have shot him through the leader of the bar, the advocate of the
heart," said Burr, afterwards, “ but, at Constitution, the statesman who had give
the moment I was about to fire, my en the law to American commerce , the
aim was confused by a vapor.” Burr most accomplished soldier in the army,
stepped forward with a gesture of re- and connected with the still recent glo
1858.] Aaron Burr . 607

ries of the Revolution, his name had be- lished, a storm of condemnation burst
come familiar to every ear, and was asso upon him . Indictments were found
ciated with every subject of popular in- against him in New York and New
terest. His career was, in all respects, an Jersey. In every pulpit, upon every
extraordinary one. He came here a stran- platform , where the virtues and services
ger, without fortune or powerful family of Hamilton were celebrated, the features
connections. While yet a school-boy, he of his malignant foe were displayed in
had borne a creditable part in the discus- dramatic contrast. He was compared to
sion of public affairs. At an age when Richard III. and Catiline, to Saul, and to
the ambition of most young soldiers is the wretch who fired the temple of Diana.
satisfied , if, by the performance of their This feeling was not confined to orators
ordinary duties as subalterns, they have and clergymen, nor to this country. It
attracted the regard of their superiors, reached other communities, and was
he was in a position of responsibility, and shared by men of the world like Talley
occupied with the most serious and com- rand, and retired students like Jeremy
plicated matters of war. He was one of Bentham . The former, a few years
the youngest and at the same time one before his death, related to an American
of the most influential members of the gentleman, that Burr, on his arrival in
Constitutional Convention . To this dis- Paris, in 1810, sent to him and request
tinction in affairs and arms he added ed an interview . The French states
equal distinction at the bar. It will be man could not well refuse to receive an
difficult to find in our history, or in that American of such distinction , with whom
of England, an instance of such emi- be was personally acquainted, and by
nence in three departments of action so whom he had formerly been hospitably
distinct and dissimilar. Although it may entertained, and told the gentlenian who
- 66
be said of Hamilton, that he had not the brought the message, — " Say to Col.
intuitive perception, which Jefferson pos- Burr, that I will receive him to -mor
sessed, of the necessities iniposed upon row ; but tell him also, that Gen. Ham
the country by its anomalous condition, ilton's likeness always hangs over my
yet, as a statesman under an establish- mantel.” Burr did not call upon him .
ed government, he was surpassed by no Talleyrand directed that after his death
man of his generation. His talents were the miniature should be sent to Ham
of the kind which most attracts the sym ilton's descendants, with some newspa
pathics and impresses the understand- per scraps relating to him , which he had
ings of others. He was a grave man, thrust into the lining. When Burr was
occupied with business affairs, but not in England, he became intimate with
unequal to occasions which required the Bentham . The latter, in his " Memoirs
display of taste and eloquence. His sol- and Correspondence ,” makes a brief al
id qualities of mind inspired universal lusion to the acquaintance, in which the
confidence in the soundness of his views Bu
following passage occurs : ga 66 rr ve
upon all questions which were not the me an account of his duel with Ham
subject of political dispute. There were ilton. He was sure of being able to
many plain Republicans of that day kill him : so I thought it little better
:

who were firmly attached to the princi- than a murder . "

ples which Jefferson advocated, but who Previously to his retirement from the
thought that Jefferson was a dreamer Vice-Presidency , in March, 1805, Burr
and an enthusiast , and that Hamilton had formed the design of seeking a home
was a far safer man in the ordinary in the Southwest. Little more than a
affairs of government. year before, Louisiana had been annex
The grief which the death of Hamilton ed , and then offered a wide field to an
caused in the nation reacted upon Burr ;
ambitious man. Encouraged by some ac
and when the correspondence was pub- quaintances, he projected various politi
608 Aaron Burr. [March,
cal and financial speculations. In April, the account of the misfortunes which
he repaired to Pittsburg, and started up- Burr brought upon him and his amiable
on a journey down the Ohio and the wife to justify the sympathy with which
Mississippi. On the way, curiosity led they have been regarded.
him to the house of Herman Blenner- Soon after his arrival at New Orleans
hassett, and he thus accidentally made Burr seems to have formed bolder de
the acquaintance of a man whose name signs. From this time we find in his
has become historic by its association correspondence, and that of his friends,
with his own. Blennerhassett was an vague bints of some great undertaking.
Irishman by birth ; he had inherited a This proved to be a project for an expe
considerable fortune, and was a man of dition against Mexico, and the establish
education. Beguiled by the belief that in ment there of an Empire which was to
the retirement of the American forests he include the States west of the Alleghanies;
would find the solitude most congenial to subsidiary to this, and connected with it,
the pursuit of his favorite studies, he pur- was a plan for the colonization of a large
chased an island in the Ohio River near tract of land upon the Washita.
the mouth of the Little Kanawha. He It is difficult to believe that a design so
expended most of his property in build- absurd can have been entertained by a
ing a house and adorning his grounds. man of common sense ; yet it is certain
The house was a plain wooden structure ; that it was seriously undertaken by Burr.
and the shrubbery, in its best estate, His conduct in carrying it out furnishes
could hardly have excited the envy of the best measure of his talents and a sig
Shenstone. Men of strong character are nal exhibition of his folly and his vices.
not dependent upon certain conditions of His high standing, his reputation as a
climate and quiet for the ability to ac- soldier, attracted the vulgar, and brought
complish their purposes. But Blenner him into intercourse with the most intelli
hassett was not a man of strong charac- gent people of the Territory. The fasci
ter ; neither was he an exception to this nation of his manners, and the skill in the
rule . He was, at the best, but an idle arts of intrigue which long discipline had
student; and his zeal for science never given him , enabled him to sustain the im
carried him beyond a little desultory pression which the prestige of his name
study of Astronomy and Botany and everywhere produced. The details of
some absurd experiments in Chemistry. his political conduct could not have been
His figure was awkward, his manners accurately known in a region so remote .
were ungracious, and he was so near- The affair with Hamilton had not injured
sighted that he used to take a ser- his reputation in communities where such
vant hunting with him, to show him affairs were common and often applauded.
the game. His credulity and want of The circumstances of the time, to his su
worldly knowledge exposed him to the perficial glance, seemed to be encourag
-
practices of the shrewd frontiersmen ing. A large portion of the country had
among whom he lived . He soon be- lately passed under our flag ; - many
came involved in debt, and at the time of the inhabitants spoke a foreign lan
of Burr's visit his situation made hiin guage, and retained foreign customs and
a ready volunteer for any enterprise predilections ; – the American settlers
which promised to repair his shattered were an adventurous race , and eager for
fortunes. That the enterprise was im- an opportunity to indulge their martial
practicable, and that he was unfit for spirit ; — Mexico was uneasy under the
it, only made it more attractive to his Spanish yoke;—and some indications of
imaginative and simple mind. The fan- a war between the United States and
cy of Wirt has thrown a deceptive ro- Spain held out a faint hope that the ini
mance around the career of Blenner- tiatory steps of his enterprise might be
hassett, yet there is enough of truth in taken with the connivance of the gov
1858.] Aaron Burr. 609

ernment. To recruit an army among denounced in Congress, and had a claim

the hardy citizens of Kentucky and Ten- against the government; Burr tempted
nessee, to excite the jealousies of the him with an opportunity to redress his
French in Louisiana, to subdue feeble wrongs and satisfy his claim . Com
and demoralized Mexico, and create a modore Truxton had been struck from
new and stable empire, did not appear the Navy list ; he offered him a high
difficult to the sanguine imagination of a cominand in the Mexican navy. He
man who was without means or power- took every occasion to flatter the vanity
ful friends, and who at no time had suf- of the people ; attended militia parades,
ficient confidence in those with whom he and praised the troops for their discipline
was engaged to fully inform them of his and martial bearing. Large donations of
plans. But he pursued his purposes with land were freely promised to recruits ;
a tenacity which leaves no doubt of his men were enlisted ; Blennerhassett's Is
sincerity, and an audacity and unscrupu- land was made the rendezvous; and pro
lousness seldom equalled. A few whom visions were gathered there.
he thought it safe to trust were admitted At length his movements began to cause
to his secrets. Upon those in whom he some anxiety to the public officers . The
did not dare to confide he practised every United States District Attorney attempt
species of deception . He told some, that ed to indict him at Frankfort, Kentucky,
his intentions were approved by the gov- but the grand- jury refused to find aa bill.
ernment ,—others, that his expedition was Henry Clay defended him in these pro
against Mexico only, and that he was ceedings, and in reference to his connec
sure of foreign aid. He represented to tion with the case , Mr. Parton makes a
the honest, that he had bought lands, characteristic display of the spirit in which
and wished to form a colony and institute his book is written , and of his unfitness
a new and better order of society ; the for the ambitious task he hasundertaken .
ignorant were deluded with a fanciful He quotes the following passage from Col
tale of Southern conquest , and a magnifi- lins's“ Historical Sketches of Kentucky ” :
cent empire, of which he was to be king, — “ Before Mr. Clay took any active part
and Thcodosia queen after his death. as the counsel of Burr, he required of
So thoroughly was this deception car- him an explicit disavowal, [ avowal,) upon
ried out, that it is difficult to determine his honor, that he was engaged in no de
who were actually engaged with him . sign contrary to the laws and peace of the
Without doubt, many acceded to his country. This pledge was promptly giv
plans only because they did not know en by Burr, in language the most broad,
what his plans really were. He made comprehensive, and particular. He had
rapid journeys from New Orleans to no design , he said , to intermeddle with
Natchez , Nashville, Lexington , Louis- or disturb the tranquillity of the United
ville, and St. Louis. In the winter of States, nor its territories, nor any part of
1805 he returned to Washington, and in them . He had neither issued nor signed
the following summer again went down nor promised a commission to any person
the Ohio. Wherever he went, he threw for any purpose . He did not own a single
out complaints against the government, musket, nor bayonet, nor any single arti
-charged it with imbecility , — boasted cle of military stores,-nor did any other
that with two hundred men he could person for him , by his authority or knowl
drive the President and Congress into edye. His views had been explained to
the Potomac,— freely prophesied a dis- several distinguished members of the ad
solution of the Union, and published in ministration , were well understood and
the local journals articles pointing out approved by the government. They
the advantages which would result from were such as every man of honor and
a separation of the Western from the every good citizen must approve ." Upon
Eastern States. Gen. Eaton had been this paragraph Mr. Parton makes the fol
VOL. I. 39
610 Aaron Burr. [March,
lowing extraordinary comments :—“ Mr. thought of it could ever have entered a
Clay, there is reason to believe, went to sane mind. A wilder or more chimeri
his grave in the belief that each of these cal scheme never disturbed the dreams
assertions was an unmitigated falsehood, of a schoolboy ; yet no one has ever
and the writer of the above adduces them pressed a reasonable undertaking with
merely as remarkable instances of cool, more earnestness and confidence than
impudent lying. On the contrary , with Burr his visionary purpose. He exhib
one exception, all of Burr's allegations ited, throughout, an infatuation and a de
were strictly true; and even that one was gree of incompetency for great achieve
true in a Burrian sense . He did not own ments, which would cover the enterprise
any arms or military stores : by the terms with ridicule, were it not for the misfor
of his engagement with his recruits, every tunes which it brought upon himself and
man was to join him armed , just as erery others.
backwoodsman was arined whenever he We do not desire to linger over the
went from home. He had not issued nor last period of Burr's life. His deadliest
promised any commissions: the tiine had foe could not have wished for him so ter
:

not come for that. Jefferson and his rible a punishment as that which afflicted
cabinet undoubtedly knew his views and his long and ignominious old age.
intentions, up to the point where they In 1808 he went to Europe to obtain
ceased to be lawful. ” aid for his Mexican expedition. While
To this miserable tissue of sophistry in England, he made another display of
and misrepresentation the only reply we his adroitness and boldness in falschood .
have to make is, that Burr's statements The English government became suspi
were the unmitigated falsehoods which cious of him ; whereupon he had the
Henry Clay believed them to be. For hardihood to claim , that, although he had
at that very time stores were collected borne arms against Great Britain and
on Blennerhassett's Island ; other persons had held office in an independent state,
were bringing arms for Burr's service and he was still aa British subject. Mr. Par
with his knowledge ; the winter previous ton says, that this 6“ was an amusing in
he had offered commissions to Eaton and stance of Burr's lawyerlike audacity .”
Truxton ; and a month before this state . Less partial judges will probably find a
ment was made, his agent had arrived harsher term to apply to it.
at Wilkinson's camp with the direct After his return to this country, Burr
proposition to that officer, that he should resumed his profession in New York, but
attack the Spaniards, hurry his country never regained his former position at
into a war, and enter upon a career of th: bar. The standard of legal acquire
conquest which was to result in dismem- ments was higher than it had been in his
bering the Union. And yet Burr sol- youth, and the obloquy which rested upon
emnly declared upon his honor that he him excluded him from the respectable
was engaged in no design 66 contrary to departments of practice. During all this
the laws and peace of the country," and time, by far the longest period of his pro
that “ his views were such as every man fessional life, he never displayed any sig
of honor and every good citizen must nal ability. His society was shunned ,—or
approve,” — and Parton says these aver- sought only by a few personal admirers,
ments ' were true. We have no wish to or by the profligate and the curious.
deal harshly with this writer ; but such an When seventy -eight years of age, he
impudent defence of a palpable falsehood wheedled Madame Jumel, an eccentric
is a disgrace to American letters. and wealthy widow, into a marriage.
Every well- informed person knows the On the bridal trip he obtained posses
miserable issue of this ill - contrived con- sion of some of her property, and squan
spiracy. The only emotion which it now dered it in an idle speculation. A con
excites in the student is wonder that the tinuance of such practices led to a
1858.] Aaron Burr. 611

separation, and his wife afterwards made less vanity, of his utter disregard of the
application for a divorce, upon a charge considerations which usually govern even
which Mr. Parton says is now known to the worst of men, does not rest upon the
have been false, but which we have rea- admissions of Davis alone. Those who
son to believe was true, and which was are familiar with aa scandalous book called
so disgusting that we cannot even hint the “ Secret History of St. Domingo,"
at it. which consists of a series of letters ad
It is our duty to notice one chapter in dressed to Col. Burr by Madame D'Au
this book, which, more than anything else vergne, will need no further illustration
it contains, has given it notoriety. We of his influence over women , nor of the
refer to its defence of, or, to speak more character of those with whom he was
mildly, its apology for, Burr's libertinism . most intimately associated. The night
All the faults of the author which we before his duel with Hamilton , he com
have had occasion to notice , examples mitted all the letters of his female cor
of which are scattered through the vols respondents to the care and perusal of 66
ume, are concentrated in these few pages , Theodosia , saying that she would “find
- his inconsistency , his inaccuracy , his in them something to amuse , much to in
disposition to draw inferences from facts struct, and more to forgive .” When in
which they directly contradict, and to re- Europe, he kept a journal in which he
ly on evidence which has nothing to do recorded his various amorous adventures.
with the case in hand. He argues at This book, as published , is one which no
great length upon the assumption, that gentleman would place in the hands of
Burr's correspondence with women was a lady, and the editor tells us that the
unfit for publication, and then , in contra- most improper portions of the diary
diction to Burr's own positive declaration , have been expurgated ; yet this journal
asserts that there were “ no letters neces- was written , not to amuse a scandal-lov
sarily criminating ladies . ” To prove this, ing public , not for purposes of gain ,but
he publishes two letters, one of which is for the private perusal of Theodosia .
an apology, written by Burr in his sev- What can be said of a man who could
enty-fourth year, for having addressed a expose the lascivious expressions of aban
young woman in an improper manner, doned females and retail his own de
and the other is a letter from a female , baucheries to a gentle and innocent wom
couched in language much warmer than an, and that woman his own daughter ?
an innocent woman could use. Mr. Par- The mere statement beggars invective .
ton attacks Davis because that writer It shows a mind so depraved as to be un
stated that Burr left his correspondence conscious of its depravity.
to be disposed of by him, and culogizes / The character of Burr is not difficult
his hero because he ordered that the let- to analyze . His life was consistent, and
ters should be burned . To establish this at the beginning a wise man might have
position , le quotes Burr's will, which di- foretold the end. Our author complains
rected Davis * to destroy, or to deliver to that Burr's reputation bas suffered from
66

all persons interested , such letters, as the disposition to exaggerate his faults .
may, in his estimation, be calculated to This may be true ; but it is likewise true
affect injuriously the feelings of individu- that he has been benefited by the same
als against whom I have no complaint,” – disposition to exaggeration . A character
thus giving Mr. Davis all the discretionary is more dramatic which unites great tal
power with which he claims to have been ents with great vices, and therefore he
invested, and making him the judge as has been represented both as a worse and
to what letters should be destroyed . We a greater man than he really was. Burr
have no more space to expose Mr. Par- cannot be called great in any sense .
ton's blunders and sophistry. The evi- His successes, such as they were, never
dence of Burr's debauchery, of his heart- appear to have been obtained by high
612 Aaron Burr. [ March,
mental effort. He has left not a single a gentleman with whom he could have
measure, no speech, no written discus- had no cause for dispute, who could
sion of the various important subjects supply him with information as to new
that came before him, to which one can and interesting forms of society and gov
point as an exhibition of superior talents. ernment, and whose adventurous and
A certain description of ability cannot romantic career differed so widely from
be denied to him. He did well what his own life of study and thought.
ever could be done by address, courage, Burr's conduct in his various public
and industry, joined to moderate talents. situations affords a perfect measure of his
His chief power lay in the fascination of abilities. As a soldier, he was brave, a
personal intercourse. His countenance good disciplinarian, watchful of details,
was pleasing, and illuminated by eyes of and an excellent executive officer. At
singular beauty and vivacity; his bearing the head of a brigade he would have
was lofty ; his self-possession could not be becn useful; but he did not possess the
disturbed ; he had the tact of a woman, foresight, the breadth of mental vision ,
and an intellect which was active and nor the magnetism of nature awakening
equal to all ordinary occasions. But even the enthusiasm of armies, which are
in society his range was a narrow one, necessary to a great commander. He
and he seems to have been successful was an adroit lawyer, an adept in the
mainly because he avoided positive ef- fence of his profession, skilful to avail
fort. It is usual to speak of him as a himself of the errors of an opponent, and
remarkable conversationalist; but if by to play upon the foibles of judge or jury ;
that term we mean to describe a person but he had not the faculty for general
who is distinguished for his eloquence, ization and analysis, nor the nice dis
grace of expression, information, force crimination in the application of general
and originality of thought, Burr was not principles to particular instances, which
a good converser. A distinguished gen- must be combined in a great lawyer.
tleman, who, while young, was much He cannot by any figure of speech be
noticed by Burr, being asked in what called a statesman . As a politician, he
his personal attraction consisted , re- was one of the first to discover and one
plied, “ In his manner of listening to of the most skilful in the use of those
you. He seemed to give your thought unworthy arts which have brought the
so much value by the air with which he pursuit of politics into disrepute ; but we
received it, and to find so much more doubt whether he could have succeeded
meaning in your words than you had upon the broader field of the present
intended. No flattery was equal to it.” day. Perfectly competent to manage a
We think that this anecdote reveals the single city, he would have failed in an
entire power of the man . He was strong attempt to govern, aa party. His talents
through the weakness of others, rather were well defined by Jefferson, who spoke
than in his own strength. Therefore he of him as a great man in little things,
was most attractive to young or inferior and a small man in great things.
people. He was not on terms of inti- One of the qualities most frequently
macy with any leading man of his time, attributed to Burr is fortitude ; upon
unless it was Jeremy Bentham, and the this characteristic his biographer fre
precise nature of their relations is not quently dwells. And indeed, when one
understood . The philosopher, who could reads of the misfortunes which came
upon him , —the disappointments which
not then boast many disciples, was favor-
ably disposed toward Burr, because the he encountered ,—his poverty abroad , —
latter had ordered a London bookseller his terrible afflictions, and dreary old
to send him Bentham's works as fast as age,—and how gallantly he bore up
they were published. Upon acquaint- under all ,—unblenching, unmurmuring,
ance , he must have been pleased with struggling cheerfully and patiently to
1858.] Aaron Burr. 613

the end, one cannot repress a feeling interests of many communities widely
of admiration for the courage which en- separated by distance, climate , and an
dured so much misery, and of pity for cient differences ; but these complicated
the faults which brought that misery up- and momentous subjects, so absorbing to
on him . Such a feeling would be justi- all thoughtful men, never weighed upon
fied, if we could believe that fortitude his mind. He was in Europe when Na
was a positive trait in his character. polcon was at the height of his power,
That is to say, if he had been proper- when his armies swept from the Danube
ly sensible of the odium which cover- to the Guadalquivir ; but that strange
ed his name, and had really felt the story, which the giddiest school-girl can
sorrows which visited bim , — if these not read with divided attention , drew no
things had moved him as they do others, remark from his lips. It is said that he
and he had still gone on calmly and was fond of his daughter;—it was a fond
bravely to the end, hiding the wounds ness of the head , not of the heart. He
which tortured him , and giving no sign admired her because she was beautiful
of pain , -he would , indeed , have been and intelligent ;—had she been plain and
worthy of admiration ; he would have dull, he would not have cared for her.
been a hero . But we think it will ap- He made no return for the affection,
pear, upon a closer examination , that bis warm and generous, which her noble
fortitude was a negative, not a positive heart lavished upon him , liberal as the
quality ; it was insensibility, not courage. sunlight. Had that earnest love touched,
He did not suffer, because he did not for a single instant, a responsive chord in
feel. The emotional part of our nature bis heart, he could never have written
he did not possess ; at least, it did not show those foul, foul words to make her blush
itself in any of the forms which it usual- at the record of her father's shame. No
ly takes,-in love of country, or of kin- where does he express regret for the mis
dred ,, in the opinions which he profess- fortunes which he brought upon others,
ed , or in the subjects which occupied bis —the bereaved family of Hamilton , -- the
thoughts. The first act of his manhood ruin of Blennerhassett,—the victims of
was to join in the resistance of his coun- his passions and his ambition. He spoke
trymen to foreign oppression. But it was freely, as if they were indifferent mat
no love of liberty that urged him to arms. ters, of things which most men would
He went to the camp at Cambridge from have concealed. He laughed at his trial,
the mere love of adventure. The sacred -alluded to Hamilton as “ my friend
spirit which gave nobility to so many ,- Hamilton , whom I shot,” — and used to
which transformed mechanics, trades- repeat some doggerel lines upon the
men , village lawyers, and plain country- duel, which he had seen in a strolling
gentlemen into statesmen , philosophers, exhibition. It is said that he was cour
diplomatists, and great captains,—which teous and amiable, and that he did many
united the children of many races into kind and generous acts. His courtesy
one nation, and roused a simple people and amiability did not restrain him from
to deeds of lofty heroism ,-awakened no perfidy and debauchery ; neither did he
enthusiasm in him . He was in the very ever do a kind act when an unkind one
flush of youth, yet to his most intimate would have served his purposes better.
friends he did not breathe a word of As we have seen , Mr. Parton has de
even moderate interest in the cause for scribed Aaron Burr as suited to many
which he had drawn his sword . His very incongruous conditions in life. If
political life was passed during the first we were to select an epoch in history
twenty years of our national existence, and a form of society for which he was
when men's minds were exercised in best adapted, we should place him in
the effort to adapt one government to France during the Regency and the
the various and apparently conflicting reign of Louis XV. There, where a
614 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [March,
successful bon -mot established a claim to plomacy, and the wild speculations of
office, and a well- turned leg did more for that period. But here, among the stern
a man than the best mind in Europe, rebels of the Revolution and the practi
Burr would have risen to distinction . cal statesmen of the early Republic,
He might have shone in the literary this trickster and shallow politician, this
circles at Sceaux, and in the petits sou visionary adventurer and boaster of
pers at the Palais Royal. Among the ladies' favors, was out of place. He
wits, the littérateurs, the fashionable men has given to his country nothing except
and women of the time, he would have a pernicious example. The full light,
found society congenial to his tastes, which shows us that his vices may have
and sufficient employment for his tal- been exaggerated, shows likewise that
ents. He would have exhibited in his his talents have surely been overesti
own life and character their vices and mated . The contrast which gave fas
their superficial virtues, their extrav- cination to his career is destroyed ; and
agance, libertinism , and impiety, their for a partial vindication of his charac
politeness, courage, and wit. He might ter he will pay the penalty which be
have borne a distinguished part in the would most have dreaded , that of being
petty statesmanship, the intriguing di- forgotten.

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST - TABLE .

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.

A LYRIC conception — my friend , the train of a dozen stanzas or not is uncer

Poet, said - hits me like a bullet in the tain ; but it exists potentially from the
forehead. I have often had the blood instant that the poet turns pale with it.
drop from my cheeks when it struck, It is enough to stun and scare anybody,
and felt that I turned as white as death. to have a hot thought come crashing into
Then comes a creeping as of centipedes his brain , and ploughing up those paral
running down the spine,—then a gasp lel ruts where the wagon trains of com
and a great jump of the heart,—then a mon ideas were jogging along in their
sudden flush and a beating in the vessels regular sequences of association. No
of the head , —then a long sigh,—and the wonder the ancients made the poetical
poem is written . impulse wholly external. Mīviv úside,
It is an impromptu, I suppose, then, if Ocú : Goddess, - Muse,—divine afflatus,
you write it so suddenly , - I replied . --something outside always. I never
No,-said he, — far from it. I said wrot e any verses worth reading. I can't .
written , but I did not say copied. Every I am too stupid . If I ever copied any
such poem has a soul and a body, and it that were worth reading, I was only a
is the body of it, or the copy, that men medium .
read and publishers pay for. The soul [ I was talking all this time to our
of it is born in an instant in the poet's ,
boarders, you understand-telling them
soul. It comes to him a thought, tangled what this poet told me. The company
in the meshes of a few sweet words, listened rather attentively, I thought, con
worils that have loved each other from sidering the literary character of the
the cradle of the language, but have nev- remarks.]
er been wedded until now. Whether it The old gentleman opposite all at once
will ever fully embody itself in a bridal asked me if I ever read anything bet
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table . 615

ter than Pope's “ Essay on Man ” ? Had ed . When they have bad time to cool,
I ever perused McFingal ? He was fond he is more indifferent.
of poetry when he was a boy, his moth- A good deal as it is with buckwheat
er taught him to say many little pieces - cakes, - said the young fellow whom
-

he remembered one beautiful hymn ; - they call John.

and the old gentleman began, in a clear, The last words, only, reached the ear
loud voice, for his years, of the economically organized female
“ The spacious firmament on high, in black bombazine. Buckwheat is
With all the blue ethereal sky, skerce and high,—she remarked . [ Must
And spangled heavens,' be a poor relation sponging on our land
He stopped, as if startled by our silence, lady,-pays nothing,—so she must stand
and a faint flush ran up beneath the thin by the guns and be ready to repel board
white hairs that fell upon bis cheek . As ers.]
I looked round, I was reminded of a show I liked the turn the conversation bad
I once saw at the Museum ,—the Sleep- taken, for I bad some things I wanted to
ing Beauty, I think they called it. The say, and so , after waiting a minute, I be
old man's sudden breaking out in this gan again . — I don't think the poems I
way turned every face towards him , and read you sometimes can be fairly appre
each kept his posture as if changed to ciated, given to you as they are in the
stone. Our Celtic Bridget, or Biddy, is green state .
not a foolish fat scullion to burst out cry- -You don't know what I mean by
ing for a sentiment. She is of the service- the green state ? Well, then , I will tell
2

able, red - handed , broad -and - high -shoul- you. Certain things are good for noth
dered type; one of those imported female ing until they have been kept a long
.

servants who are known in public by their wbile ; and some are good for nothing
amorphous style of person , their stoop until they have been long kept and
forwards, and a headlong and as it were used. Of the first, wine is the illustrious
precipitous walk , --— the waist plunging and immortal example. Of those which
downwards into the rocking pelvis at must be kept and used I will name
every heavy footfall. Bridget, constitu- three,-meerschaum pipes, violins, and
ted for action, not for emotion, was about poems. The meerschaum is but a poor
to deposit a plate heaped with something affair until it has burned a thousand
upon the table, when I saw the coarse offerings to the cloud-compelling deities.
arm stretched by my shoulder arrested, It comes to us without complexion or
-motionless as the arm of a terra -cot- flavor, -born of the sea -foam , like Aph
ta caryatid ; she couldn't set the plate rodite, but colorless as pallida Mors her
down while the old gentleman was self. The fire is lighted in its central
speaking ! shrine, and gradually the juices which
He was quite silent after this, still the broad leaves of the Great Vegetable
wearing the slight flush on his cheek. had sucked up from an acre and curdled
Don't ever think the poetry is dead in an into a drachm are diffused through its
old man because his forehead is wrin- thirsting pores. First a discoloration ,
kled, or that his manhood has left him then a stain , and at last a rich, glowing,
when his hand trembles ! If they ever umber tint spreading over the whole sur
were there, they are there still ! face. Nature true to her old brown
By and by we got talking again . - autumnal lue, you see,-as true in the
Does a poet love the verses written fire of the mcerschaum as in the sun
through him, do you think, Sir ? —said shine of October ! And then the cumu
the divinity-student. lative wealth of its fragrant reniiniscences!
So long as they are warm from his he who inhales its vapors takes a thou
mind, carry any of his animal heat about sand whiffs in a single breath ; and one
them , I know he loves them , I answer- cannot touch it without awakening the
616 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [March,
old joys that hang around it, as the and scream his untold agonies, and wail
smell of flowers clings to the dresses of his monotonous despair. Passed from
the daughters of the house of Farina ! his dying hand to the cold virtuoso, who
[ Don't think I use a meerschaum my- let it slumber in its case for a generation,
self, for I do nol, though I have owned a till, when his hoard was broken up, it
calumet since my childhood , which from came forth once more and rode the
a naked Pict (of the Mohawk species) stormy symphonies of royal orchestras,
my grandsire won, together with aa tom- beneath the rushing bow of their lord
ahawk and beaded knife-sheath ; paying and leader. Into lonely prisons with
for the lot with a bullet-mark on his iniprovident artists ; into convents from
right cheek. On the maternal side I which arose, day and night, the holy
inherit the loveliest silver -mounted to- hynins with which its tones were blend
bacco-stopper you ever saw . It is aa lit- ed ; and back again to orgies in which it
tle box -wood Triton , carved with charm- learned to howl and laugh as if a legion
ing liveliness and truth ; I have often of devils were shut up in it ; then again
compared it to a figure in Raphael's to the gentle dilettante who calmed it
Triumph of Galatea.” It came to me down with easy melodies until it answer
in an ancient shagreen case, -how old it ed him softly as in the days of the old
is I do not know , -but it must have been maestros . And so given into our hands,
made since Sir Walter Raleigh's timc. If its pores all full of music ; stained , like
you are curious, you shall see it any day, the meerschaum , through and through,
Neither will I pretend that I am so un- with the concentrated hue and sweetness
used to the more perishable smoking of all the harmonies that have kindled
contrivance, that a few whiffs would and faded on its strings.
make me feel as if I lay in a ground- Now I tell you a poem must be kept
swell on the Bay of Biscay. I am and used , like a meerschaum , or a violin .
not unacquainted with that fusiform , A poem is just as porous as the meer
spiral-wound bundle of chopped stems schaum ;-the more porous it is, the bet
and miscellaneous incombustibles, the ter. I mean to say that a genuine poem
cigar, so called, of the shops,—which to is capable of absorbing an indefinite
“ draw ” asks the suction -power of a amount of the essence of our own hu
nursling infant Hercules, and to relish, manity, —its tenderness, its heroism , its
the leathery palate of an old Silenus. regrets, its aspirations, so as to be gradu
I do not advise you, young man, even ally stained through with aa divine second
if my illustration strikes your fancy, to ary color derived from ourselves. So
consecrate the flower of your life to you see it must take time to bring the
painting the bowl of a pipe, for, let me sentiment of a poem into harmony with
assure you , the stain of a reverie -breed- our nature, by staining ourselves through
ing narcotic may strike deeper than you every thought and image our being can
think for. I have seen the green leaf penetrate.
of carly promise grow brown before its Then again as to the mere music of a
time under such Nicotian regimen, and new poem ; why, who can expect any
thought the umbered meerschaum was thing more from that than from the
dearly bought at the cost of aa brain enfee- music of a violin fresh from the maker's
bled and a will enslaved.] hands ? Now you know very well that
Violins, too,—the sweet old Amati ! there are no less than fifty -eight different
the divine Straduarius ! Played on by pieces in a violin. These pieces are
ancient maestros until the bow -hand lost strangers to each other, and it takes a
its power and the flying fingers stiffened. century, more or less, to make them
Bequeathed to the passionate young en- thoroughly acquainted. At last they
thusiast, who made it whisper his hidden learn to vibrate in harmony, and the in
love, and cry his inarticulate longings, strument becomes an organic whole, as
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table. 617

if it were a great seed -capsule that had and said that he rather expected my
grown from a garden -bed in Cremona, pieces had given pretty good “ sahtisfahc
or elsewhere. Besides, the wood is juicy tion.” — I had, up to this moment, consid
and full of sap for fifty years or so, but ered this complimentary phrase as sacred
at the end of fifty or a hundred more to the use of secretaries of lyceums, and,
gets tolerably dry and comparatively as it has been usually accompanied by
resonant. a small pecuniary testimonial, have ac
Don't you see that all this is just as quired a certain relish for this moder
true of a poein ? Counting each word ately tepid and unstimulating expression
as a piece, there are more pieces in an of enthusiasm . But as a reward for
average copy of verscs than in a violin . gratuitous services, I confess I thought it
The poct has forced all these words to a little below that blood -heat standard
gether, and fastened them , and they which a man's breath ought to have,
don't understand it at first. But let the whether silent, or vocal and articulate.
poem be repeated aloud and murmured I waited for a favorable opportunity,
over in the mind's muffled whisper often however, before making the remarks
enough, and at length the parts become which follow .]
knit together in such absolute solidarity - There are single expressions, as I
that you could not change a syllable with have told you already, that fix a man's
out the whole world's crying out against position for you before you have done
you for meddling with the harmonious shaking hands with him. Allow me to
fabric . Observe, too, how the drying expand a little. There are several
process takes place in the stuff of a poem things, very slight in themselves, yet im
just as in that of a violin. Here is a plying other things not so unimportant.
Tyrolese fiddle that is just coming to Thus, your French servant has devalisé
its hundredth birthday , — (Pedro Klauss, your premises and got caught. Ex
Tyroli, fecit, 1760,) — the sap is pretty cuscz, says the sergent-de-ville, as he
well out of it. And here is the song of politely relieves him of his upper gar
an old poet whom Neæra cheated :- ments and displays his bust in the full
“ Nox erat, et cælo fulgebat Luna sereno daylight. Good shoulders enough, ----
Inter minora sidera, little marked , traces of smallpox, per
Cum tu magnorum numen læsura deorum haps,—but white . . ... Crac ! from the
In verba jurabas mea .' sergent-de-ville's broad palm on the
Don't you perceive the sonorousness of white shoulder ! Now look ! Vogue la
these old dead Latin phrases ? Now I galère ! Out comes the big red V
tell you that every word fresh from the mark of the hot iron ;-he had blistered
dictionary brings with it a certain succu- it out pretty nearly,—hadn't he ?-the
lence ; and though I cannot expect the old rascal VOLEUR, branded in the
sheets of the “ Pactolian ," in which, as I galleys at Marseilles ! [ Don't! What if
told you ,I sometimes print my verses, to he has got something like this ? -nobody
get so dry as the crisp papyrus that held supposes I invented such a story .]
those words of Horatius Flaccus, yet you My man John, who used to drive two
may be sure, that, while the sheets are of those six equine females which I told
damp, and while the lines hold their sap, you I had owned ,—for, look you, my
you can't fairly judge of my perform- friends, simple though I stand here, I am
ances, and that, if made of the true stuff, one that has been driven in his “ ker
they will ring better after a while. ridge,” — not using that term , as liberal
[ There was silence for a brief space, shepherds do, for any battered old shab
after my somewhat elaborate exposition by -genteel go-cart that has more than
of these self-evident analogies. Pres- one wheel, but meaning thereby a four
ently a person turned towards me—I do wheeled vehicle with a pole,-my man
not choose to designate the individual – John, II say, was a retired soldier. He
618 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [March,
retired unostentatiously, as many of Her doors should be attended to . One of
Majesty's modest servants have done them particularly, the front door,looked
before and since. John told me, that very badly, crusted, as it were, and as if
when an officer thinks he recognizes it would be all the better for scraping.
one of these retiring heroes, and would There happened to be a microscopist in
know if he has really been in the service, the village who had heard the old pirate
that he may restore hiin, if possible, to a story, and he took it into his head to ex
grateful country, he comes suddenly upon amine the crust on this door. There
him, and says, sharply, “ Strap !" If he. was no mistake about it ; it was a gen
has ever worn the shoulder -strap, he has uine historical document, of the Ziska
learned the reprimand for its ill adjust drum -head pattern ,-a real cutis huma
ment. The old word of command flashes na, stripped from some old Scandinavian
through his muscles, and his hand goes filibuster,-- and the legend was true.
up in an instant to the place where the My friend, the Professor, settled an
strap used to be. important historical and financial ques
[ I was all the time preparing for my tion once by the aid of an exceedingly
grand coup, you understand ; but I saw minute fragment of a similar document.
they were not quite ready for it, and so Behind the pane of plate-glass which
continued,always in illustration of the bore his name and title burned a modest
general principle I had laid down.] lamp, signifying to the passers-by that at
Yes, odd things come out in ways that all hours of the night the slightest favors
nobody thinks of. There was a legend , (or fevers) were welcome. A youth who
that, when the Danish pirates made had freely partaken of the cup which
descents upon the English coast, they cheers and likewise inebriates, following
caught a few Tartars occasionally, in the a moth -like impulse very natural under
shape of Saxons, that would not let them the circumstances, dashed his fist at the
go, on the contrary , insisted on their light and quenched the meek luminary,
staying, and, to make sure of it, treated - breaking through the plate-glass, of
them as Apollo treated Marsyas, or as course, to reach it. Now I don't want to
Bartholinus has treated a fellow -creature go into minutiæ at table, you know, but
in his title-page, and, having divested a naked hand can no more go through a
them of the one essential and perfectly pane of thick glass without leaving some
fitting garment, indispensable in the of its cuticle, to say the least, behind it,
mildest climates, nailed the same on the than a butterfly can go through a sau
church -door as we do the banns of mar- sage-machine without looking the worse
riage, in terrorem. for it. The Professor gathered up the
[ There was a laugh at this among fragments of glass, and with them cer
some of the young folks; but as I looked tain very minute but entirely satisfactory
at our landlady, I saw that “the water documents which would have identified
stood in her eyes," as it did in Chris- and hanged any rogue in Christendom
tiana's when the interpreter asked her who had parted with them . The histori
about the spider, and that the school- cal question, Who did it ? and the finan
mistress blushed , as Mercy did in the cial question, Who paid for it ? were both
same conversation, as you remember.] settled before the new lamp was lighted
That sounds like a cock -and -bull-story, the next evening.
—said the young fellow whom they call You see, my friends, what immense
John. I abstained from making Ham- conclusions, touching our lives, our for
let's remark to Horatio, and continued.
tunes, and our sacred honor, may be
Not long since, the church -wardens reached by means of very insignificant
were repairing and beautifying an old premises. This is eminently true of
Saxon church in a certain English vil- manners and forms of speech ; a move
lage, and among other things thought the ment or a phrase often tells you all you
 1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 619

want to know about a person . Thus, are possible. But the man with a future
“How's your health ? ” ( commonly pro- has almost of necessity sense enough to
nounced haälth) -instead of, How do you see that any odious trick of speech or
do ? or, How are you ? Or calling your manners must be got rid of. Doesn't
little dark entry a hall,” and your old Sidney Smith say that a public man in
66

rickety one-horse wagon a “ kerridge.” England never gets over a false quan
Or telling a person who has been trying tity uttered in early life ? Our public
to please you that he has given you pret- men are in little danger of this fatal mis
ty good 66" sahtisfahction ." Or saying that'step, as few of them are in the habit of
you “ remember of ” such a thing, or that introducing Latin into their speeches ,
you have been “stoppin' ” at Deacon for good and sufficient reasons. But
Somebody's,-and other such expressions. they are bound to speak decent English,
One of my friends had a little marble - unless, indeed, they are rough old
statuette of Cupid in the parlor of his campaigners, like General Jackson or
country -bouse,—bow, arrows, wings, and General Taylor ; in which case, a few
all complete. A visitor, indigenous to scars on Priscian's head are pardoned
the region, looking pensively at the fig- to old fellows that have quite as many
ure , asked the lady of the house “ if that on their own , and a constituency of
was a statoo of her deceased infant ? ” thirty empires is not at all particular,
What a delicious, though somewhat vo- provided they do not swear in their
luminous biography, social, educational Presidential Messages.
and æsthetic in that brief question ! However, it is not for me to talk . I
[ Please observe with what Machiavel- have made mistakes enough in conversa
lian astuteness I smuggled in the partic- tion and print. “ Don't " for doesn't,
ular offence which it was my object to base misspelling of Clos Vougeot, (I wish
hold up to my fellow -boarders, without I saw the label on the bottle a little often
too personal an attack on the individual er,) -- and I don't know how many more.
at whose door it lay.] I never find them out until they are
That was an exceedingly dull person stereotyped, and then I think they rarely
who made the remark, Ex pede Hercu- escape me. I have no doubt I shall
lem . He might as well have said, “ From make half aa dozen slips before this break
a peck of apples you may judge of the fast is over, and remember them all be
barrel.” Ex PEDE, to be sure ! Read, fore another. How one does tremble
instead, Ex ungue minimi digiti pedis with rage at his own intense momentary
Herculem, ejusque patrem , matrem , avos stupidity about things he knows perfectly
et proavos, filios, nepotes el pronepotes ! well, and to think how he lays himself
Talk to me about your δος που στώ ! Tell open to the impertinences of the capla
me about Cuvier's getting up a megathe- lores rerborum , those useful but humble
rium from a tooth, or Agassiz's drawing scavengers of the language, whose busi
a portrait of an undiscovered fish from ness it is to pick up what might offend or
a single scale ! As the “ O ” revealed Gi- injure, and remove it,hugging and feeding .

otto ,-as the one word “ moi ” betrayed on it as they go ! I don't want to speak
the Stratford -atte -Bowe-taught Anglais, too slightingly of these verbal critics;
-so all a man's antecedents and possi- how can I, who am so fond of talking
bilities are summed up in a single utter- about errors and vulgarisms of speech ?
ance which gives at once the gauge of Only there is aa difference between those
his education and his mental organiza- clerical blunders which almost every man
tion . commits, knowing better, and that ha
Possibilities, Sir ? —said the divinity- bitual grossness or meanness of speech
student; can't a man who says Haöw ? which is unendurable to educated per
arrive at distinction ? sons, from anybody that wears silk or
Sir, I replied,--in a republic all things broadcloth.
620 The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table. [March,
[ I write down the above remarks this blinded community of creeping things,
morning, January 26th, making this rec- than all of them that enjoy the luxury
ord of the date that nobody may think it of legs — and some of them have a good
was written in wrath, on account of any many - rush round wildly, butting each
particular grievance suffered from the other and everything in their way, and
invasion of any individual scarabæus end in a general stampede for under
grammaticus.) ground retreats from the region poisoned
-I wonder if anybody ever finds by sunshine. Next year you will find the
fault with anything I say at this table grass growing tall and green where the
when it is repeated ? I hope they do, I stone lay ; the ground-bird builds her
am sure . I should be very certain that nest where the beetle had his hole ; the
I had said nothing of much significance, dandelion and the buttercup are grow
if they did not. ing there, and the broad fans of insect
Did you never, in walking in the angels open and shut over their golden
fields, come across a large flat stone, disks, as the rhythmic waves of blissful
which had lain, nobody knows how long, consciousness pulsate through their glori
just where you found it, with the grass fied being.
forming a little hedge, as it were, all - The young fellow whom they call
round it, close to its edges,—and have John saw fit to say, in his very familiar
you not, in obedience to a kind of feel- way ,-at which I do not choose to take
ing that told you it had been lying there offence, but which I sometimes think it
long enough, insinuated your stick or necessary to repress, —that I was coming
your foot or your fingers under its edge it rather strong on the butterflies.
and turned it over as a housewife turns a No, I replied ; there is meaning in
cake, when she says to herself, “ It's done each of those images,—the butterfly as
brown enough by this time ” ? What an well as the others. The stone is ancient
odd revelation , and what an unforeseen error .The grass is human nature borne
and unpleasant surprise to a small com- down and bleached of all its color by it.
munity, the very existence of which you The shapes that are found beneath are
had not suspected, until the sudden dis- the crafty beings that thrive in darkness,
may and scattering among its members and the weaker organisms kept helpless
produced by your turning the old stone by it. He who turns the stone over is
over ! Blades of grass flattened down, whosocver puts the staff of truth to the
colorless, matted together, as if they had old lying incubus, no matter whether he
been bleached and ironed ; hideous crawl- do it with a serious face or a laughing
ing creatures, some of them coleopterous one. The next year stands for the com
or horny-shelled
- ,-turtle-bugs one wants ing time. Then shall the nature which
to call them ; some of them softer, but had lain blanched and broken rise in its
cunningly spread out and compressed full stature and native hues in the sun
like Lepine watches; (Nature never los- shine. Then shall God's minstrels build
es a crack or a crevice, mind you, or a their nests in the hearts of a new -born
joint in a tavern bedstead, but she al- humanity. Then shall beauty - Divinity
ways has one of her flat-pattern live taking outlines and color - light upon the
timekeepers to slide into it ;) black, glossy souls of men as the butterfly, image of
crickets, with their long filaments sticking the beatified spirit rising from the dust,
out like the whips of four-borse stage- soars from the shell that held a poor grub,
coaches ; motionless, slug-like creatures, which would never have found wings, had
larvæ, perhaps, more borrible in their not the stone been lifted.
pulpy stillness than even in the infernal You never need think you can turn
wriggle of maturity ! But no sooner is over any old falsehood without a terrible
the stone turned and the wholesome light squirming and scattering of the horrid
of day let upon this compressed and little population that dwells under it.
 1

1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table. 621

-Every real thought on every real the form of suppers given to gentlemen
subject knocks the wind out of somebody connected with criticism . I believe in
or other. As soon as his breath comes the school, the college, and the clergy ;
back, he very probably begins to expend but my sovereign logic for regulating
it in hard words. These are the best public opinion — which means commonly
evidence a man can have that he has the opinion of half a dozen of the critical
said something it was time to say. Dr. gentry — is the following: Major proposi
Johnson was disappointed in the effect tion. Oysters au naturel. Minor prop
of one of his pamphlets. “ I think I have osition . The same “ scalloped.” Conclu
not been attacked enough for it,” he said ; . sion. That- - (here insert entertainer's
_ " attack is the reaction ; I never think name) is clever, witty, wise, brilliant ,
I have bit hard unless it rebounds." and the rest.
-If a fellow attacked my opinions -No, it isn't exactly bribery. One
in print, would I reply ? Not I. Do man has oysters, and another epithets.
you think I don't understand what my It is an exchange of hospitalities ; one
friend, the Professor, long ago called the gives a “spread" on linen, and the other
hydrostatic paradox of controversy ? on paper,—that is all. Don't you think
Don't know what that means ?–Well, you and I should be apt to do just so, if
I will tell you. You know, that, if you we were in the critical line ? I am sure
had a bent tube, one arm of which was I couldn't resist the softening influences
of the size of a pipe-stem , and the other of hospitality. I don't like to dine out,
big enough to hold the ocean , water would you know ,- I dine so well at our own
stand at the same height in one as in table, Cour landlady looked radiant,) and
the other. Controversy equalizes fools the company is so pleasant [a rustling
and wise men in the same way, - and the movement of satisfaction among the
fools know it. boarders ]; but if I did partake of a man's
-No, but I often read what they salt, with such additions as that article of
say about other people. There are food requires to make it palatable, I could
about a dozen phrases that all come never abuse him, and if I had to speak
tumbling along together, like the tongs, of him, I suppose I should hang my set
and the shovel, and the poker, and the of jingling epithets round him like a
brush, and the bellows, in one of those string of sleigh-bells. Good feeling helps
domestic avalanches that everybody society to make liars of most of us,-not
knows. If you get one, you get the absolute liars, but such careless handlers
whole lot. of truth that its sharp corners get terribly
What are they ?-- Oh, that depends a rounded. I love truth as chiefest among
good deal on latitude and longitude. the virtues ; I trust it runs in my blood ;
Epithets follow the isothermal lines pret but I would never be a critic, because I
ty accurately. Grouping them in two know I could not always tell it. I might
families, one finds himself a clever, ge- write a criticism of a book that happened
nial, witty, wise, brilliant, sparkling, to please me ; that is another matter.
thoughtful, distinguished, celebrated, il- Listen, Benjamin Franklin ! This
lustrious scholar and perfect gentleman, is for you , and such others of tender age
and first writer of the age ; or a dull, as you may tell it to .
foolish, wicked , pert, shallow , ignorant, When we are as yet small children,
insolent , traitorous, black -hearted out- long before the time when those two
cast, and disgrace to civilization . grown ladies offer us the choice of Hercu
What do I think determines the set les, there comes up to us a youthful an
of phrases a man gets ?-Well, I should gel, holding in his right hand cubes like
say a set of influences something like dice, and in his left spheres like mar
these :—1st. Relationships, political, relig- bles. The cubes are, of stainless ivory,
ious, social, domestic . 2d. Oysters ; in and on each is written in letters of gold
622 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [March,
-Truth. The spheres are veined and der the title, “ From our Foreign Cor
streaked and spotted beneath, with a respondent," does any harm ?-Why, no,
dark crimson flush above, where the -I don't know that it does. I suppose
light falls on them , and in a certain as- it doesn't really deceive people any more
pect you can make out upon every one than the “ Arabian Nights” or “Gulli
of them the three letters L, I, E. The ver's Travels ” do. Sometimes the writ
child to whom they are offered very prob ers compile too carelessly, though, and
ably clutches at both . The spheres are mix up facts out of geographies, and sto
the most convenient things in the world ; ries out of the penny papers, so as to
they roll with the least possible impulse mislead those who are desirous of infor
just where the child would have them . mation. I cut a piece out of one of the
The cubes will not roll at all ; they have papers, the other day, that contains a
a great talent for standing still, and al- number of improbabilities, and, I sus
ways keep right side up. But very soon pect, misstatements. I will send up and
the young philosopher finds that things get it for you, if you would like to hear
which roll so easily are very apt to roll it.—Ah, this is it ; it is headed
into the wrong corner, and to get out of
his way when he most wants them, while “ OUR SUMATRA CORRESPONDENCE.
he always knows where to find the others, “ This island is now the property of
which stay where they are left. Thus the Stamford family ,—baving been won,
he learns — thus we learn — to drop the it is said, in a raffle, by Sir Stam
streaked and speckled globes of falsehood ford, during the stock -gambling mania
and to hold fast the white angular blocks of the South -Sea Scheme. The history
of truth. But then comes Timidity, and of this gentleman may be found in an
after her Good -nature, and last of all interesting series of questions ( unforti
Polite-behavior, all insisting that truth nately not yet answered ) contained in
must roll or nobody can do anything with the • Notes and Queries. This island
it ; and so the first with her coarse rasp , is entirely surrounded by the ocean , which
and the second with her broad file, and here contains a large amount of saline
the third with her silken sleeve, do so substance, crystallizing in cubes remark
round off and smooth and polish the able for their symmetry, and frequently
snow -white cubes of truth , that, when displays on its surface, during calm
they have got a little dingy by use, it be- weather, the rainbow tints of the cele
comes hard to tell them from the rolling brated South -Sea bubbles. The sum sur
spheres of falsehood . mers are oppressively hot, and the win
The schoolmistress was polite enough ters very probably cold ; but this fact
to say that she was pleased with this, and cannot be ascertained precisely, as, for
that she would read it to her little flock some peculiar reason , the mercury in
the next day. But she should tell the these latitudes never shrinks, as in more
children, she said, that there were better northern regions, and thus the thermom
reasons for truth than could be found in eter is rendered useless in winter.
mere experience of its convenience and “ The principal vegetable productions
the inconvenience of lying. of the island are the pepper tree and the
Yes,-I said,—but education always bread - fruit tree. Pepper being very
begins through the senses, and works up abundantly produced, a benevolent so
to the idea of absolute right and wrong.ciety was organized in London during the
The first thing the child has to learn last century for supplying the natives
about this matter is, that lying is un- with vinegar and oysters, as an addition
profitable ,-afterwards, that it is against to that delightful condiment. [ Note re
the peace and dignity of the universe. ceived from Dr. D. P.] It is said, how
-Do I think that the particular form ever, that, as the oysters were of the kind
of lying often seen in newspapers, un- called natives in England, the natives of
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast -Table. 623

Sumatra, in obedience to a natural in. which its cavity may at any time be
stinct, refused to touch them, and con- thoroughly swept out. These are com
fined themselves entirely to the crew of monly lost or stolen before the maccaroni
the vessel in which they were brought arrives among us. It therefore always
over. This information was received contains many of these insects, which,
from one of the oldest inhabitants, a na- however, generally die of old age in the
tive himself, and exceedingly fond of shops, so that accidents from this source
missionaries. He is said also to be very are comparatively rare.
skilful in the cuisine peculiar to the “ The fruit of the bread -tree consists
island. principally of hot rolls. The buttered
“ During the season of gathering the muffin variety is supposed to be a hybriel
pepper, the persons employed are subject with the cocoa -nut palm, the cream found
to various incommodities, the chief of on the milk of the cocoa -nut exuding
which is violent and long -continued ster-from the hybrid in the shape of butter,
nutation , or sneezing. Such is the ve- just as the ripe fruit is splitting, so as to
hemence of these attacks, that the unfor- fit it for the tea -table, where it is com
tunate subjects of them are often driven monly served up with cold ”
backwards for great distances at immense -There, I don't want to read any
speed, on the well-known principle of more of it. You see that many of these
the æolipile. Not being able to see statements are highly improbable . — No,
where they are going, these poor creatures I shall not mention the paper. — No, nei
dash themselves to pieces against the ther of them wrote it, though it reminds
rocks or are precipitated over the cliffs, me of the style of these popular writers.
and thus many valuable lives are lost an- I think the fellow that wrote it must
nually. As, during the whole pepper have been reading some of their stories,
harvest, they feed exclusively on this and got them mixed up with his history
stimulant, they become exceedingly irri- and geography. I don't suppose he lies ;
table. The smallest injury is resented - he sells it to the editor, who knows
with ungovernable rage. A young man how many squares off “ Sumatra ” is.
suffering from the pepper-fever, as it is The editor, who sells it to the public
called , cudgelled another most severely -By the way, the papers have been
for appropriating a superannuated rela- very civil - haven't they ? -to the-the
tive of trifling value, and was only paci- —what i've call it ? — " Northern Maga
fied by having a present made him of a zinc,” — isn't it ?-got up by some of those
pig of that peculiar species of swine Come-outers, down East, as an organ for
called the Peccavi by the Catholic Jews, their local peculiarities.
who, it is well known , abstain from -The Professor has been to see me.
swine's flesh in imitation of the Mahome- Camc in, glorious, at about twelve o'clock,
tau Buddhists. last night. Said he had been with “ the
“ The bread -tree grows abundantly. Its boys.” On inquiry, found that the boys "
branches are well known to Europe and were certain baldish and grayish old
America under the familiar name ofmac- gentlemen that one sees or hears of in
caroni. The smaller twigs are called various important stations of society.
vermicelli. They have a decided animal The Professor is one of the same sct, but
flavor, as may be observed in the soups he always talks as if he had been out of
containing them. Maccaroni, being tu- college about ten years, whereas
bular, is the favorite habitat of a very .... [ Each of these dots was a little
dangerous insect, which is rendered pe- nod, which the company understood, as
culiarly ferocious by being boiled. The the reader will, no doubt.] He calls them
government of the island, therefore, never sometimes “ the boys,” and sometimes
allows a stick of it to be exported without “ the old fellows." Call him by the latter
being accompanied by a piston with title, and see how he likes it.-Well, he
624 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [March,
came in last night, glorious, as I was say- the. “ Northern Magazine," edited by the
ing. Of course I don't mean vinously Come-outers. There was nothing they
exalted ; he drinks little wine on such were not up to, from a christening to a
occasions, and is well known to all the hanging; the last, to be sure, could never
Johns and Patricks as the gentleman that be called for, unless some stranger got in
always has indefinite quantities of black among them.
tea to kill any extra glass of red claret -I let the Professor talk as long as
he may have swallowed . But the Pro- he liked ; it didn't make much difference
fessor says he always gets tipsy on old to me whether it was all truth, or partly
memories at these gatherings. He was, made up of pale Sherry and similar ele
I forget how many years old when he ments. All at once he jumped up and
went to the meeting; just turned of said , -
twenty now,-he said . He made various Don't you want to hear what I just
youthful proposals to me, including a duet read to the boys ?
under the landlady's daughter's window . I have had questions of a similar
He had just learned a trick, he said , of character asked me before, occasionally.
one of the boys,” of getting a splendid A man of iron mould might perhaps say ,
bass out of a door-panel by rubbing it with No ! I am not a man of iron mould,
the palm of his hand ,—offered to sing and said that I should be delighted.
"The sky is bright," accompanying him- The Professor then read — with that
self on the front-door, if I would go down slightly sing-song cadence which is ob
and help in the chorus. Said there never served to be common in poets reading
was such a set of fellows as the old boys of their own verses—the following stanzas ;
the set he has been with. Judges, mayors, holding them at a focal distance of about
Congress-men , Mr. Speakers, leaders in two feet and a half, with an occasional
science, clergymen better than famous movement back or forward for better ad
and famous too, poets by the half-dozen, justment, the appearance of which has
singers with voices like angels, financiers, been likened by some impertinent young
wits, three of the best laughers in the folks to that of the act of playing on the
agricultur trombone. His eyesight was never bet
Commonwealth, engineers, agricultur-
ists, -all forms of talent and knowledge ter; I have his word for it.
he pretended were represented in that
meeting. Then he began to quote Byron MARE RUBRUM .
about Santa Croce, and maintained that Flash out a stream of blood -red wine !
he could “ furnish out creation " in all its For I would drink to other days ;
details from that set of his. He would And brighter shall their memory shine,
like to have the whole boodle of them, Seen flaming through its crimson blaze .
The roses die, the summers fade ;
(I remonstrated against this word, but But boyhood's dream
every ghost ofpower
the Professor said it was a diabolish good By Nature's magic is laid
word, and he would have no other,) with To sleep beneath this blood -red stream .
their wives and children, shipwrecked on
a remote island, just to see how splen- It filled the purple grapes that lay
And drank the splendors of the sun
didly they would reorganize society. Where the long summer's cloudless day
They could build a city ,—they have done Is mirrored in the broad Garonne ;
it ; make constitutions and laws; estab It pictures still the bacchant shapes
lish churches and lyceums; teach and That saw their hoarded sunlight shed , -
practise the healing art ; instruct in every The maidens dancing on the grapes ,
department; found observatories; create Their milk -white ankles splashed with red.
commerce and manufactures ; write songs Beneath these waves of crimson lie,
and hymns, and sing 'em , and make in In rosy fetters prisoned fast,
struments to accompany the songs with ; Those flitting shapes that never die,
lastly , publish a journal almost as good as The swift-winged visions the past
1858.] Child - Life by the Ganges.
Kiss but the crystal's mystic rim ,
Each shadow rends its flowery chain ,
Springs in a bubble from its brim,
And walks the chambers of the brain .
Poor Beauty ! time and fortune's wrong
No form nor feature may withstand,-
Thy wrecks are scattered all along,
Like emptied sea -shells on the sand ;
Yet, sprinkled with this blushing rain ,
The dust restores each blooming girl,
As if the sea - shells moved again
Their glistening lips of piuk and pearl.
Here lies the home of school-boy life,
With creaking stair and wind -swept hall,
And , scarred by many a truant kuife,
Our old initials on the wall ;
Here rest - their keen vibrations mute
The shout of voices known so well,
625
The ringing laugh, the wailing dute,
The chiding of the sharp -tongued bell.
Here, clad in burning robes, are laid
Life's blossomed joys, untimely shed ;
And here those cherished forms have strayed
We miss awhile, and call them dead.
What wizard fills the maddening glass ?
What soil the enchanted clusters grew ,
That buried passions wake and pass
In beaded drops of fiery dew ?
Nay, take the cup of blood- red wine,–
Our hearts can boast a warmer glow,
Filled from a vintage more divine -
,
Calmed, but not chilled by winter's snow !
To -night the palest wave we sip
Rich as the priceless draught shall be
That wet the bride of Cana's lip,
The wedding wine of Galilee !

CHILD -LIFE BY THE GANGES.

We are told — and, being philosophers, to dirty little rags, and their dirty little
we will amuse ourselves by believing , finger-nails grow through the backs of
that there are towns in India, somewhere their dirty little hands,-or wear little
between Cape Comorin and the Hima- ten -penny nails thrust through their little
layas, wherein everything is butcha,- tongues till they acquire little chronic
that is, “ a little chap ” ; where inhabit- impediments in their decidedly dirty
ants and inhabited are alike in the estate little speech, - or, by means of little
-

of urchins; where little Brahmins extort hooks through the little smalls-of -their
little offerings from little dupes at the backs, circumgyrate from little churruck
foot of little altars, and ring little bells, posts for the edification of infatuated
and blow little horns, and pound little little crowds and the honor of horrid
gongs, and mutter little rigmaroles be- little goddesses; where plucky little wid
fore stupid little Krishnas and Sivas ows perform their little suttees for de
and Vishnus, doing their little wooden funct little husbands, grilling on little
best to look solemn, mounted on little funeral piles; where mangy little Pari
bulls or snakes, under little canopies; ah dogs defile the little dinners of little
where little Brahminee bulls, in all the high -caste folks, by stealing hungry little
little insolence of their little sacred priv- sniffs from sacred little pots ; where om
ileges, poke their little noses into the nivorous little adjutant-birds gobble up
little rice-baskets of pious little maidens little glass bottles, and bones, and little
in little bazaars, and help their little dead cats, and little old slippers, and bits
selves to their little hearts' content, with- of little bricks, in front of little shops in
out “ begging your little pardons,” or little bazaars; where vociferous little cir
" by your little leaves ” ; where dirty lit- cars are driving little bargains with obese
tle fakirs and yogees hold their dirty little banyans, and consequential little
little arms above their dirty little heads, chowkedars — that is, policemen - are bul
until their dirty little muscles are shrunk lying inoffensive little poor people, and
VOL . I. 40
626 Child -Life by the Ganges. [ March,
calling them sooa -logue, that is, pigs ; - beebi-ka kullejee bhee itni burri hoga ,
where — where, in fine, everything in Gurreeb-purwan ! “ How large my lord's
heathen human-nature happens butcha, liver is about to grow ! God grant to
and the very fables with which the little the Mem Sahib, my exalted lady, a liver
story -tellers entertain the little loafers on likewise large,–0 favored protector of
the corners of the little streets, are full the poor ! ” The happiness and honors
of little giants and little dwarfs. Let us which should follow upon the birth of aa
pursue the little idea, and talk butcha to male child being figuratively compre
the end of this chapter. hended in that enlargement of the liver
whence comes the good digestion for
When, in Calcutta, you have smitten which alone life is worth the living.
the dry rock of your lonely life with the
magic rod of connubial love, and that Many and grievous perils do environ
well-spring of pleasure, a new baby, has baby-life by the Ganges,-perils of dry
leaped up in the midst of your wilder- nurses, perils by wolves, perils by croco
ness of exile, the demonstration, if any, diles, perils by the Evil Eye, perils by
with which your servants will receive the kidnappers, perils by cobras, perils by
glad tidings, will depend wholly on the »
devils.
denomination of the imbecile offspring,” You are living at one of the up -coun
as our eleëmosynary widow , Mrs. Diana try stations, where the freer air of the
Thcodosia Comfort Green, would call it. jungle imparts to babes and sucklings a
If it happen to be only a girl, there will voracious appetite. Besides your own
be a trace of pity in the silent salaam dhye, bronght from Calcutta, there is not
with which the grim duruan salutes you another wet- nurse to be had , for love or
as you roll into your palkce at the gate money. Immediately Dhye strikes for
to proceed to the godowns where they higher wages. The Baba Sahib, she says,
are weighing the saltpetre and the gun- has defiled her rice ; yesterday he put
ny -bags. As he touches his forchead . his foot into her curry ; to -day he washes
with his joined palms, he thinks of the the monkey's tail in her consecrated lo
difference that color makes to the babiv- tah . What shall she do ? she has lost
orous crocodiles of Ganges. Perhaps caste ; the presents to the Brahmins, that
your gray -beard circar, privileged by her reinstatement will cost her, will con
virtue of high caste and faithful service, sume all her earnings from the begin
will take upon himself to conclole with ning Gurreeb -purran, O munificent
you :“ Khoilabund ,” he will say, " better and merciful! what shall she do ? She
luck next time ; Heaven is not always strikes for higher wages.—But you are
with one's paternal hopes; let us trust hard -hearted and hard -headed ; you will
that my lord may live to say it might not pay ,—by Gunga, not another pice !
have been worse ; let us pray that the by Latchmee , not one cowry more !—Oh,
baba's bridal necklace may be as gay as then she will leave ; with a heavy heart
rubies and as light as lilies, and that she she will turn her back on the blessed
may dic before her husband .” baby ; she will pour dust upon her head
But if to the existing number of your before the Mem Sahib, at whose door
suntoshums — the jewels that hang on the her disgrace shall lie, and she will return
Mem Sahib's bosom - a man - child is to her kinclred . - Not she ! the durwan,
added, ah, then there is merry -making grim and incorruptible, has his orders;
in the verandas, and happy salaaming she cannot pass the gate . — Oho ! then
on the stairs; and in the fulness of his immediately she dries up ; no “ fount,"
Hindoo Sary-Gampness, which counts and Baby famishing. You try ass's milk ;
the Sahib blessed that hath “his quiver it does not agree with Baby ; besides,
full of sich," he says, Ap-ki kullejee it costs a rupee a pint. You try a goat;
kaisa burri ho-jaga ! Khodá rulho ki she does not agree with Baby, for she
1858.] Child - Life by the Ganges. 627

butts him treacherously, and, leaping roses, and ixoras, and the creeping na
over his prostrate body, scampers, like gatallis ; the Baboo's park is shady with
Leigh Ilunt's pig in Smithfield Mar- banians, and fragrant with sandal- trees,
ket, up all manner of figurative streets. and imposing with tall peepuls, and cool
Then you send for Dhye, and say, with sparkling fountains ; and Chinna
“ Milk , or I shave your head ! ” Milk Tumbe, the Little Brother, the brown
or death ! And, lo, a miracle ! - the apple of the Baboo's eye, plays among
“ fount ” again ! — Baby is saved. the bamboos by the tank , just within the
What was, then, the conjuration and gate, and pelts the gold -fishes with mango
the mighty magic ? In the folds of her secds. Presently comes along a pleasant
saree the dhye conceals leaves of cham- peddler, all the way from Cabool, with a
beli, the Indian jessamnine, roots of dhalla pretty bushy-tailed kitten of Persia in
pee, the jungle radish . She chews the the hollow of his arm , and a cunning lit
chambeli, and hungry Baby, struggling te mungooz cracking nuts on his shoul
for the “6 fount,” is insulted with apples der. A score of tiny silver bells tinkle
of Sodom ; she swallows a portion of from a silken cord around Chinna Tume
dhallapee, and he is regaled as with the be's loins, and the silver wbistle with
melting melons of Ceylon. which he calls his cockatoos is suspended
from his neck by a chain of gold. So
Some fine afternoon your ayah takes the pleasant peddler all the way from
your little Johnny to stroll by the river's Cabool greets Chinna Tumbe merrily,
bank,—to watch the green budgerows, as saying, “ See my pretty kitten, that
they glide, pulled by singing dundees ( so knows a hundred tricks ! and see my
the boatinen of Ganges are called) up to brave mungooz, that can kill cobras in
Patna,—to watch the brown corpses, as fair fight ! My Persian kitten for your
they lloat silently down from Benares. silver bells, Chinna Tumbe, and my cun
At night the ayah returns, wringing her ning mungooz for your golden chain ! "
hands. Where is your merry darling ? And Chinna Tumbe laughs, and claps
She knows not. O Khodabund, go ask his hands, and dances for delight, and all
the evil spirits ! O Sahib, go cry unto his silver bells jingle gleefully. And the
Gunga,—go accuse the greedy river, and pleasant peddler all the way from Cabool
say to the envious waters, “ Give back says, Step without the gate, Little
66

my boy ! ” She had left him sitting on
a stone, she says, counting the sailing kitten play tricks ; if you would stroke
corpses, while she went to find him a blue-
jay's nest among the rocks; when she re-
turned to the stone, —no Jonnee Sahib !
66
My golden image, who hath snatched
him away ? Ile that skipped and hum-
med like a singing-top, where is he
gonee ? " - A month after that, your dan-
dees capture a crocodile, and from his
heathen maw recover a familiar coral
necklace with an inscription on the clasp,
_ " To Johnny, on his birth -day.” A
pair of little silver bangles, whose jocund
jingling had once been happy household
music to some poor Hindoo mother, have
kept the necklace company.
Over against the gate of our com-
pound the Baboo's walks are bright with yellow light, and instantly it stands still,
Brother, if you would see my pretty
my cunning mungooz, step without the
gate ; for 1 dare not pass within, lest my
lord, the Baboo of many lacs, should be
angry .” So Chinna Tumbe steps out
into the road , and the pleasant peddler
all the way from Cabool sets the Persian
kitten on the ground, and rattles off some
strange words, that sound very funnily to
the Little Brother ; and imm diately the
Persian kitten begins to run round after
its bushy tail, faster and faster, faster and
faster, a ring of yellow light. And Chin
na Tumbe claps his hands, and cries,
Wah, wah ! and he dances for delight,
and all his silver bells jingle gleefully.
So the pleasant peddler addresses other
strange and funny words to the ring of
628 Child - Life by the Ganges. [March,
and quivers its bushy tail, and pants. Baboo cried, with a loud voice, three
Then the peddler speaks to the cunning times, “ Chinna Tumbe,” and all the
mungooz, which immediately leaps to the Brahmins stretched forth their hands and
ground, and sittivg quite erect, with its pronounced Asowadam , benediction.
broad tail curled over its back , like a Then they performed arati about the
marabout feather, holds its paws togeth- child's head, to avert the Evil Eye, de
er in the quaint manner of a squirrel, scribing mystic circles with lamps of rice
and looks attentive. More of the ped- paste set on copper salvers, with many
dler's funny conjuration, and up springs pious incantations. But, spite of all, the
the mungooz into the air, like a Birman's Evil Eye overtook Chinna Tumbe, when
wicker football, and, alighting on the kit- the pleasant peddler came all the way
ten's back, clings close and fast. Away from Cabool, with his bushy-tailed kitten,
fly kitten and mungooz , -away from the and his munyooz cracking nuts.
gate , -away from the Baboo's walks, They do say the ghost of Chinna Tum
bright with ixoras and creeping nagatal- be walks, —that always at midnight, when
lis, -away from the Baboo's park, shady the Indian nightingale fills the Baboo's
with banians, and fragrant with sandal- banian topes with her lugubrious song,
trees, and imposing with tall pecpuls, and and the weird ulus hoot froin the pee
cool with sparkling fountains,-away from pul tops, a child, girt with silver bells,
the Baboo's home, away from the Ba- and followed by a Persian kitten and a
boo's heart, bereft thenceforth forever ! mungooz, shakes the Baboo's gate, blows
For Chinna Tumbe follows fast, crying, upon a silver whistle, and cries, so piteous
Wah , wah ! and clapping his hands, and ly, “ Ayah ! Ayah ! ”
jingling gleefully all his silver bells,-fol
lows across the road , and through the At Hurdwar, in the great fair, among
bamboo hedge, and into the darkness jugglers and tumblers, horse - tamers and
and the danger of the jungle ; and the snake-channers, fakirs and pilgrims, I
pleasant peddler all the way from Cabool saw a small boy possessed of aa devil,—an
goes smiling after, —but, as he goes, what authentic devil, as of yore , meet for mi
is it that he draws from the breast of his raculous driving -out. In the midst of dire
dusty coortee ? Only a slender, smooth din, heathenish and horrible, —dissonant
cord, with a slip -knot at the end of it. jangle of zogees' bells, brain -rending
Within the twelvemonth , in stony blasts from Brahmins' shells, strepent
nullah, hard by a clump of crooked saul- howling of opium -drunk devotees, deliri
trees, a mile away from the Baboo's gate, ous pounding of tom -toms, brazen clang
some jackals brought to light the bones or of gongs, -a child of seven years, that
of a little child ; and the deep grave from might, unpossessed, have been beautiful,
which they dug them with their sharp, sat under the shed of a sort of curiosity
busy claws, bore marks of the mystic shop, among bangles and armlets, mouth
pick -axė of Thuggee. But there were no pieces for pipes, leaden idols, and Brah
tinkling bells, no chain of gold, no silver minical cords, and made infernal faces ,
whistle ; and the cockatoos and the gold- his mouth foaming epileptically, his hair
fishes knew Chinna Tumbe no more . dishevelled and matted with sudden
When a name was bestowed on the sweat, his eyes blood -shot, his whole
Little Brother, the Brahmins wrote a aspect diabolic. And on the ground
score of pretty words in rice, and set before the miserable lad were set dishes
over each a lamp freshly trimmed , and of rice mixed with blood , carcasses of
?

the name whose light burned brightest, rams and cocks, handfuls of red flowers,
with happy augury, was “ Chinna Tum- and ragged locks of human hair, where
be. ” And when they had likewise in- with the more miserable people sought to
scribed the day of his birth, and the name appease the fell bhuta that had set up
of his natal star, the proud and happy his throne in that fair soul. Sach bat ?
1858.] Child - Life by the Ganges. 629

It was even so . And as the possessed of eight years who was flourished indis
made spasmy fists with his feet, clinching pensably at every chee -chee hop in
his toes strangely, and grinded, with his Chandernagore :
chin between his knees, I solemnly wished “ O lay me in a little pit,
for the presence of One who might cry With a marvle thtone to cover it,
with the voice of authority, as erst in the And keearve thereon a turkle -dove,
land of the Gadarenes, “ Come out of That the world may know I died for love!”
the lad, thou unclean spirit !” I left India in consequence of that child .
At the Hurdwar fair pretty little na- But for the true Anglo-Indian type
ked girls are cxposed for sale, and in of brat, at all points a complete “ torn
their soft brown innocence appeal at down," " dislikeable and rod -worthy," as
once to the purity of your mind and the Mrs. Mackenzie describes it, there is
tenderness of your heart. They come nothing among nursery nuisances com
from Cashmere with the shawls, or from parable to the Civil- Service child of eight
Cabool with the kittens, or from the Pun- or ten years, whose father, a “Com
jaub with the arms and shields. pany's Bad Bargain,” in the Mint, or the
Supreme Court, or the Marine Office,
Very quaint are the little Miriams, draws per mensem enough to set his
Ruths, and Hannahs of the Jewish brat up in the usual servile surround
houses in Bombay,—with their full trou- ings of such small despots. Deriving the
sers of blue satin and gold, their boyish only education it ever gets directly from
Fez caps of spangled red velvet, bound its personal attendants, this young mon
round with party-colored turbans, their ster of bad temper, bad manners, and
chin -bands of pearls, their coin chains, bad language becomes precociously profi
their great gold bangles, and the jingling cient in overbearing ways, and voluble
tassels of their long plaits. in Hindostance Billingsgate, before it
Less interesting, because formal and has acquired enough of its ancestral
inanimate, even to sulkiness, are the tongue to frame the simplest sentence.
prim little Parsee maidens, who often It bullies its bhearer ; it bangs distract
wear an “ exercised ” expression , of a ingly on the tom -tom ; it surfeits itself to
settled sort, as though they were weary an apoplectic point with pish- pash ; it
of reflecting on the hollowness of the burns its mouth with hot curry, and
world, and how their dolls are stuffed bawls; it indulges in horrid Ilindostanee
with sawdust, and that Dakhma, the songs, whereof the burden will not bear
Tower of Silence, is the end of all translation ; it insults whatever is most
things. sacred to the caste attachments of its
Then there are the regimental baba- attendants ; the Moab of ayahs is its
logue, the soldiers' children, sturdiest and wash -pot, over an Edom of bhearers
toughest of Anglo-Indian urchins,-- af- will it cast out its shoe ; it slaps the
fording, in their brown cheeks and crisp mouth of a gray -haired khansaman with
muscles and boisterous ways, a consoling its slipper, and dips its poodle's paws
contrast to the oh -call-it-pale-not-fair- in a Mohammedan kitmudgar's rice ; it
ness, and the frailness, and premature calls a learned Pundit an asal ulu, an
pensiveness of the little Civil Service. egregious owl; it says to a bigh -caste
And there is the half-caste child, the circar, “ Shut up, you pig ! ” and to an
lisping chee-chee, or Eurasian, grandilo illustrious moonshee, “ Hi, toom junglee
quently so called, much given to senti- wallah ! ” Whereat its fond mamma, to
mental minstrelsy, juvenile polkas, early whom Bengalce, Hindostanee, and San
coquetry, and early beer, hot curries, scrit are alike sealed books of Babel,
loud clothes, bad English, and fast pert- claps the hands of her heart, and crying,
ness . I never think of them without Wah , wah ! in all the innocence of her
recalling a precocious ballad -screamer philological deficiency, blesses the fine
630 Child - Life by the Ganges. [March,
animal spirits of her darling Hastings it is usual to describe his condition by a
Clive. feline figure; he is said to “ cuddle up to
“ Soono, you sooa , toom kis -wasti oma- her like a sick kitten to a hot brick . "
ra bukri not bring ? ” says Hastings Clive, But the sick Oriental kitten, reversing
whose English is apt to figure among his the Occidental order of kitten things,
Hindostanee like Brahmins in a regiment cuddles up to a water-monkey, and fond
of Sepoys,—that is, one Brahmin to every ly embraces the refreshing evaporation
twenty low -caste fellows. of its beaded bulb with all her paws and
The Hon . Mrs. Wellesley Gough . all her bushy tail. The Persian kitten
Wellesley dear, do listen to that darling stands high in the favor of Hastings
Hastings Clive, how sweetly he prattles! Clive.
What did he say then ? If one could Hastings Clive has a whole array of
only learn that delightful Hindostanee, parroqucts and hill-mainahs, which, as
80 that one could converse with one's they learned their small language from
dear Hastings Clive ! Do tell me what his peculiar scurrilous practice, are but
he said . blackguard birds at best. He also re
The Hon . Wellesley Gough, of the joices in many blue-jays, rescued from the
Company's Bad Bargains. — Literally in- Ganges, whereinto they were thrown as
terpreted, my dearest Maud, our darling offerings to the vengeful Doorga during
Hastings Clive sweetly remarked, “ I the barbarous pooja celebrated in her
say, you pig, why in thunder don't you name. Very proud, too , is Hastings Clive
fetch my goat into the parlor ? " of his pigeons,—his many -colored pigeons
The Hon. Mrs. Wellesley Gough, of from Lucknow, Delhi, and Benares ; an
the Hon . Mr. Wellesley Gough's Bad Oudean bird - boy has trained them to the
Bargains. — Oh, isn't he clever ? pretty sport of the Mohammedan princes,
Hastings Clive. - Jou ,you haremzeada ! and every afternoon he flies them from
Bukri na munkta, nimuk-aram ! the house -top in flashing flocks, for Has
The Hon . Wellesley Gough. — My love, tings Clive's entertainment.
he says now, “ Get out, you good -for- Hastings Clive has toys, thc wooden
nothing rascal! I don't want that goat and earthen toys for which Benares was
here. " ever famous among Indian children,
The Hon . Mrs. Wellesley Gough .—Oh, non -descript animals, and as non -descript
isn't he clever ? idols,-little Brahminee bulls with bells,
What dreadful crime did you commit and artillery camels, like those at Rohil
in another life, O illustrious Moonshee, cund and Agra ,—Sahibs taking the air
that you should fall now among such in buggies, country-folk in hackeries,
thieves as this horrid Hastings Clive ? baba-logue in gig -topped ton -jons. But
66
Sahib, I know not. Hum kia kur- much more various and entertaining,
renge ? kismut hi : What can I do ? it isthough frailer, are his Calcutta toys, of
my fate . ” paper, clay, and wax , — hunting -parties
Hastings Clive has a queer assortment in bamboo howdahs, on elephants a foot
of pets, first of which are the bushy- high, that more their trunks very cun
tailed Persian kittens, hereinbefore men- ningly, —avadavats of clay, which flutter
tioned. When, in Yankee-land, some 80 naturally, suspended by bairs in bam
lovelorn Zeekle is notoriously sweet upon boo cages, that the cats destroy them
any Huldy of the rural maids,—when quickly, — miniature palanquins, budge
rows, bungalows, and pagodas, all of pa
“ His heart keeps goin ' pitypat, per, — figures in clay of the different
And hern goes pity Zeekle," —
castes and callings, baboos, kitmudgars,
when she is Fashermen, barbers, tailors, street-water
“ All kind o smily round the lips, ers, box -wallahs, (as the peddlers are
And teary round the lashes ,"' called , nautch-girls, jugglers, sepoys, po
1858.] Child - Life by the Ganges. 631

licemen , doorkeepers, dog-boys,—all true wooden dignity at the foot of the palace
to the life, in costume, attitude, and ex- stairs, taking their respective orders of
pression. wooden precedence with wooden pom
Statedly, on his birth-day, the Anglo- posities and bumilities, and all the mani
Indian child is treated to a kal-poollee kin forms of the customary bore. The
nautch, and Hastings Clive has a birth- manikin courtiers trip woodenly down
day every time he conceives a longing the grand stairs to meet the manikin
for a puppet-show ; so that our wilful guests with little wooden Orientalisms of
young friend may be said to be nine compliment, and all the little wooden del
years, and about nineteen kat-pootlee icacies of the season ; and they conduct
nautches, old . the manikin Sahibs and Beebees into
To make a birth -day for Hastings the presence of the manikin Rajah, who
Clive, three or four tamasha -wallahs, receives them with wooden condescen
or show -fellows, are required ; these, sion and affability, and graciously recip
hired for a few rupees, come from the rocates their wooden salaams, inquiring
nearest bazaar, bringing with them all woodenly into the health of all their
the fantastic apparatus of a kat-pootlee manikin friends, and hoping, with the ut
nautch, with its interludes of story -telling most ligneous solicitude, that they have
and jugglery. A sheet, or table -cloth, or had a pleasant wooden journey : and so
perhaps a painted drop -curtain, expressly on, manikin by manikin, to the wooden
prepared , is hung between two pillars in end. Of course, much desultory tom
the drawing -room , and reaches, not to tomry and wild troubadouring behind the
the floor, but to the tops of the miniature curtain make the occasion musical.
towers of a silver palace, where some The audience is complete in all the
splendid Rajah, of fabulous wealth and picturesqueness of mixed baba- logue. In
power, is about to hold a grand durbar, the front row , chattering brown ayahs,
or levee. All the people, be they illus- gay with red sarees and nose -rings, sit on
trious personages or the common herd, the floor, holding in their laps pale, ten
who assist in the ceremony, are puppets der babies, fair -haired and blue -eyed,
a span long, rudely constructed and lace-swaddled, coral-clasped, and amber
studded . Behind these, on high chairs,
coarsely painted, but very faithful as to
costume and manners, and most dex- are the striplings of three years and up
terously played upon by the invisible ward , vociferous and kicking under the
tamasha-wallahs, whom the curtain con- hand -punkahs of their patient bhearers.
ceals. Tall fellows are these bhcarers, with
A silver throne having been wheeled fierce moustaches, but gentle eyes , —a sort
out on the portico by manikin bhearers, of nursery lions whom a little child can
the manikin Rajab, attended by his mani- lead. On each side are small chocolate
kin moonshee, and as many manikin colored heathens, in a sort of short che
courtiers as the tamasba property-man mises, silver-bangled as to their wrists
can supply, comes forth in his wooden and ankles, and already with the caste
way, and seats himself on the throne in mark on the foreheads of some of them ,
wooden state ; a manikin hookah-badar, shy, demure younglings, just learning
or pipe -server, and a manikin chattah-all the awful significance of the word
wallah, ọr umbrella-bearer, take up their Sahib, who have been brought from mys
wooden position behind, while a manikin tcrious homes by fond ayahs, and smug
punkah-wallah fans, woodenly, his manikin
7 gled in throngh back - stairs influence, or
Highness, and the manikin courtiers dance boldly introduced by the durwan under
wooden attendance around. Then mani- the glorifying patronage of that terrible
kin ladies and gentlemen come on mani. Hastings Clive.
kin elephants and horses and camels, Back of all are Dhobee, the washer
in manikin palanquins, and alight with man , and Dirzee, the tailor, and Mehter,
632 Child - Life by the Ganges. [March ,
the sweeper, and Mussalchee, the torch- and Kama, here, shall be Kurreim Khan,
boy, and Metranee, the scullion , - and the sowar ; and Joota shall be Metcalfe
all the rest of the household riff-raffry. Sahib, the magistrate ; and the rest of
There is much clapping of hands, and you shall be the sahibs, and the sepoys,
happy wah -wah-ing, wherefrom you con- and the priests."
clude that Hastings Clive's birth-day is at Acha, acha !- “ Good, good ! ” they
least one good result of his being born all cried. “ Let us play the Nawab's kis
at all. mut ! let us hang the Nawab ! And
The Sahib baba-logue have a lively Mungloo - he that is more clever than
share in several of the native festivals. all of us — be that is cunning as a Thug
The Hoolee, for instance, is their high –Mungloo shall be the Nawab ! ”
carnival of fun, when they pelt their So they began with the murder of the
elders and each other with the red pow- Commissioner ; and be who personated
der of the mhindee, and repel laughing Kurreim Khan, the assassin, played so
assaults with smart charges of rose -water naturally, that he sent the Commissioner
fired from busy little squirts. During the screaming to his mother, with an arrow
illumination of the Duwallee, they re- sticking in his arm . Then they arrested
ceive from the servants presents of fan- Kurreim Khan, and his accomplice, Un
tastic toys, and search in the compounds nia, a mehwatti, wbo turned king's evi
by moonlight for the flower of the tree dence, and betrayed the sowar ; and
that never blossoms, and for the soul having tried and condemned Kurreim
of a snake, whence comes to the finder Khan, they would have hung him on
good luck for the rest of his life. the spot; but, being but a little fellow ,
These are the traditional sports of the he became alarmed at the serious turn
baba-logue ; but they are ingenious in the sport was taking, although he had
inventing others, wherein , from time to himself set so sharp an example ; so he
time, the imitative faculty, of the native took nimbly to his heels, and followed
child especially, is tragically manifested . his young friend, the Commissioner.
When the Nawab, Shumsh -ud -deen, Then Unnia told how the Nawab had
was hung at Delhi for hiring a sowar to paid Kurreim Khan blood-money, be
assassinate Mr. Fraser, the British Com- cause Shumsh -ud -deen did so hate Fra
missioner, the country population round ser Salib. Whereupon Metcalfe Sahib,
about were seized with the news as with a little naked fellow , just the color of an
the coming of a dragon or a destroying old mahogany table, sent his sepoys and
army ; and the British Lion was the had the Nawab dragged, in all his ragged
Bogy, the Black Douglas, in whose name breech -cloth glory, to the bar of Sahib
poor ryots' wives scared refractory brats justice. In about three minutes, the Na
into trembling obedience. Not far from wab was condemned to die, -condemned
Delhi was a village school, where were to be hung by an outcast sweeper. But,
many small boys,—so many Asiatic frogs in consideration of his exalted rank, they
in -a -well, to whom “the news of the consented that he should wear his slip
day ” was full of terrible portent. Once, pers, and ride to the place of execution,
when they were tired of foot-ball,and the smoking his hookah ; and Mungloo ac
shuttlecock had grown heavy on their knowledgedthe Sahib's magnanimity by
hands, the cry was, “ What shall we play proudly inclining his head, like a true
next ?” And onc daring little fellow , Nawab, with a dignified “ Acha ! ” Then
whose father had been to Delhi with his two members of the court-martial, who
rent, and had told how the Nawab met lived nearest at hand , ran hoine, and
his kismul ( his fate ) so quietly, that the quickly returned , one with his father's
gold -embroidered slippers did not fall slippers, the other with his mother's hub
from his feet - cried, “ Let us play hang- ble -bubble; and having tied the slippers,
ing the Nawab ! and I will be the Nawab ; that were a world too big, on Mungloo's
1858.] Child - Life by the Ganges. 633

little feet, and lighted the bubble-bubble, it takes you ! ” Certainly Mungloo did
that he might smoke, they mounted him it to the life , —for he was dead .
-

on a buffalo, captured from the village

hurkaru, who happened, just in the nick To conclude now with a specimen of
of time, to come riding by, on his way to the tales with which the native story-tell
>

Delhi, with the mail. And they led out ers entertain little heathens on street-cor
the prisoner, smoking his hubble -bubble, ners .
-and looking, as Metcalfe Sahib said of There was once a bastard boy, the son
the real Nawab, “as if he had been ac- of a Brahmin's widow ; and he was ex
customed to be hanged every day of his cluded from a merry wedding -feast on
life," —to the place of execution, an old account of his disgraceful birth . With a
saul- tree with low limbs. Then , having heart full of bitterness, he prayed to Siva
taken the rope with which the hurkaru's for comfort or revenge ; and Siva, taking
mail-bag was lashed to his buffalo, they pity on him , taught him the mystic man
slipped a noose over the Nawab's head, tra, or incantation, called Bijaksbaram ,
made the other end fast to the lower limb Shrum , hrim , craoom, hroom , hroo. So
of the saul-tree, and led away the buf- the boy went to the door of the apart
falo . ment where the wedding guests were re
Little Mungloo, who was cunning as a galing themselves and making merry ;
Thug, acted with surprising talent; in and he pronounced the mantra back
fact, some of the Sahibs thought he rather wards, — Ilroo, hroom, craoom , hrim,
overdid his part, for he dropped his hub- shrum . Immediately the fish, and the
ble -bubble almost awkwardly, and even cucumbers, and the mangoes, and the
kicked , —which the real Nawab had too pumplenoses took the shape of toads, and
much self-respect to do,--so that he sent jumped into the faces of the guests, and
one of his slippers flying one way, and into their bosoms and laps, and on the
the other another. But he choked , and floor. Then the boy laughed so loud ,
gasped, and showed the whites of bis that the astonished guests knew it was he
eyes, and turned black in the face, and who had conjured them ; so they went
shivered through all his frame, so very to the door and let him in, and set him
naturally, that his admiring companions at the head of the table. Then the boy
clapped their hands vehemently, and was satisfied, and uttering the mantra
cried , Wah, wah ! with all their little aright, he conjured the toads back in
lungs. Wah, wah ! they screamed , ~ Wah the dishes again ; and they all lay down
khoob tamasha kurta hi ! Phir kello, in their places, and became fish, and cu
Mungloo ! Bahoot uchi-turri nuhkul, cumbers, and mangoes, and pumplenoses,
kurte ho toom ! “ Bravo ! Bravo ! Such just as if nothing had happened.
fun ! Do it again ,Mungloo, -do it again ! Glory to Siva!
634
MUSIC .
The promise of the autumn has not
been fulfilled ; instead of the anticipated
feasts, we have had but few concerts, and,
as yet, no opera . Some few noteworthy following evening. Its ever fresh and
incidents have occurred, however, which cheerful melodies presented a fine contrast
we desire to record . We pass over the
ever welcome orchestral concerts, the quiet jah.” In rendering purely melodic phras
pleasures of our delightful chamber music, es, Herr Formes was not so preëminent
and the inspiring four- part singing of the
Orpheus Club. Neither can we give the
space to notice fully the début of a young
singer , -a singer with a rare voice, full,
flexible , and sympathetic, and who, with
culture in a larger style, and with maturity
of power and feeling, will be аa rcal acqui-
sition to our musical public. Few young
performers know
“ How much grace, strength, and dignity lie
in repose ."
They dazzle us with pyrotechnics in the
finale of Com’ e bello or Qui la voce , but the
simple feeling of Vedrai carino is beyond
their grasp. Firmly sustained tones, carc-
ful phrasing, flowing grace in the melo-
dy, and just, dramatic expression, are the
great requisites ; without them the bril.
liant flourishes of a modern cadenza aston-
ish only for a brief period .
The appearance of Can Formes in ora-
torio was something to be long remember-
ed . The Handel and Haydn Society
brought out “ Elijah ” and “ The Crea-
tion ” before immense audiences at the
Music Hall. For the first time we heard
" Elijah ” represented by a great artist, and
not by a sentimental, mock-heroic singer.
He infused into the performance his own
intense personality. Every phrase was
charged with his own feeling. He thun-
dered out the curses of Heaven upon idol-
aters ; he prayed with all-absorbing devo
tion to the “ Lord God of Abraham ” ; he
taunted the baffled priests of Baal in grim
and terrible scorn ; he gently soothed the
anguish of the widow ; and when his ca-
<6
reer was finished, he reverently said , “ It
is enough ; now take awaymylife !” The
music we had heard before ; we had been
rapt many a time while hearing the mag .
nificent choruses ; but we never had
Music. [ March ,
known the dramatic power of the compos
er as shown in the principal rôle.
“ The Creation " was performed on the
to the severely intellectual style of “ Eli
as in declamatory passages. Not always
strictly in tune, not specially graceful,
slow in delivery, even beyond the require
ments of a dignified style, he impressed
the audience rather by the volume and
richness of his tones and by a certain re
served force, than by any unusual excel
lence in execution . Some one has said ,
that it makes a great difference in the force .
of a sentence whether or not there is a man
behind it. This impression of a fulness of
resources always accompanied the efforts
of Herr Formes ; every phrase had mean
ing or beauty, as he delivered it. Perhaps
it is as idle to lament his deficiencies, in
comparison with artists like Belletti, for
instance, as to complain because the grand
figures of Michel Angelo have not the del
icacy of finish that marks the sweetly in
sipid Venus de Medici. Of the other solo
performers in the oratorios it is not neces
sary for us to speak, save to commend the
fine voice and good style of Mrs. Harwood ,
a rising singer, well known here , and whom
the country, we hope, will know in due
time.
Another concert demands our attention ,
in which portions of a work by an Ameri
can composer were submitted to the test
of public judgment. This we must con
sider the most important musical event
of the season ; for great singers, though
surely not common among our English
race , have not been unknown ; the ability
to interpret God gives freely , -- the power
to create, rarely. In any generation ,
probably not ten men arise who write
new melodies ; of these, only a small pro
portion have either the intellectual power
or the æsthetic feeling to combine the sub
tile elements of music into forms of last
ing beauty. Most of them are influenced
by prevailing mannerisms, and their mu
1858. ] Music.
sic is therefore ephemeral, like the taste to
which it ministers. Of all the composers
that have lived , probably not more than
six or eight have attained to an absolutely
classic rank . These few are not in rela-
tions with any temporary taste ; their mu-
sic might have been written to-day or a
century ago, and it will be as fresh a cen-
tury hence. No one of the arts has had
fewer great masters. A new composer ,
therefore, has a right to claim our atten-
tion. If, perchance, we discover that he
has the gift of genius, and is not merely
a clever imitator, we cannot rejoice too
much .
The work to which we allude is the
opera “Omano," —the libretto in Italian
by Signor Manetta, the music by Mr. L.
H. Southard. We shall not stop now to
consider the question, whether American he most admired . To mention no later
Art is to be benefited by the production of instances, it is well known that Beetho
operas in the Italian tongue ; it is enough
to say , that, until we have native singers
capable of rendering a great dramatic
work , singers who can give us in Eng-
lish the effects which Grisi, Badiali, Mario ,
and Alboni produce in their own language,
we must be content with the existing state
of things, and allow our composers to write
for those artists who can do justice to their
conceptions. We hope to live to hear
operas in English ; but meanwhile we
must have music, and, at present, the
Italian stage is the only common ground.
Mr. Southard's opera is founded upon
Beckford's Oriental tale , “ Vathek , " with
such alterations as are necessary to adapt
it for representation . We are told that
the plot is full of dramatic situations, full
of human interest, and that its scenes ap-
peal to all the faculties, ranging through
comedy , ballet, and melodrama, and lead-
ing to the awful Hall of Eblis at last. The
principal characters are the Caliph Omano,
baritone ; Carathis , his mother, mezzo so-
prano ; Hinda, a slave in his harem , sopra-
no ; Rustam , her lover, tenor ; and Albatros,
basso, a Mephistophelean spirit who tempts pany of great artists in the Boston Theatre
the Caliph on to his destruction . Selec-
tions were made from this opera , and were
performed by resident artists, without the
aid of stage effects or orchestral accompa-
niments. Only the music was given,
with as much of the harmony as could be
played on the grand piano by one pair of
hands. There could be no severer test
than this. The music is generally Italian
635
in form , especially in the flowing grace of
the cantabile passages, and in tire working
up of the climaxes. But we did not hear
one of the stereotyped Italian cadenzas, nor
did we fall into old ruts in following the
harmonic progressions. The orchestral
figures — the framework on which the mel
odies are supported - are new, ingenious,
and beautiful. The duets, quartette, and
quintette show great command of re
sources and the utmost skill in construc
tion ; we can hardly remember any con
certed pieces in the modern opera where
the "working up” is more satisfactory, or
the effect more brilliant. How far the mu
sic exhibits an absolutely original vein of
melody, it is perhaps premature to say .
No composer has ever been free at first
from the influence of the masters whom
ven's early works are all colored by his
recollections of Mozart, and that his own
peculiar qualities were not clearly brought
out until he had reached the maturity of
his powers. This seems to be the law in
all the arts ; imitation first, self-develop
ment and originality afterwards. Happy
are those who do not stop in the first stage !
It is certain that Mr. Southard's music
pleased, and that some of the most critical
of the audience were roused to a real en
thusiasm . And it is to be borne in mind
that the music is cast in a grand mould ; it
has no prettinesses ; it is either great in it
self, or wears the semblance of greatness.
On the whole, we are inclined to think that
the “ Diarist ” in Dwight's “ Journal of
Music ” was not extravagant in saying that
no first work since the time of Beethoven
has had so much of promise as the opera
“ Omano.” We shall look with great in
terest for its production upon the stage
with the proper accompaniments and
scenic effects. It is due to the compos
er that this should be done. If the music
we heard had been performed by a com
or in the Academy of Music, it would have
been received with tumultuous applause.
The singers on this occasion gained to
themselves great credit by their consci
cntious endeavors. They generously of
fered their services, and sang with a heart
iness that showed a warm interest in the
work. One of them , at least, Mrs. J.
H. Long, would have established her rep
636 Literary Notices.
utation as an accomplished artist, even
if she had never appeared in public be-
fore.
We suppose our readers will agree with
us in looking with eager delight to the
promise of a national school of music.
Every nation must create its own song.
The passionate music of Italy electrifies
our cooler blood , but it does not adequate-
ly express all our feelings nor in any way
represent our character. We also find
many of the compositions of Germany so
purely intellectual that they do not touch
us until we have learned to like them . If
we ever have a school of music, it will be
in harmony with our rapidly developing
characteristics. But it must grow up on
our own soil ; exotics never flourish long
under strange skies. We think that many
things point to this country as the place
where music will achieve new triumphıs.
We are not bound by old traditions, we
have few prejudices to unlearn , and we
are able to see merit in more than one
school. The same audience that becomes
almost intoxicated with the excitement of
the Italian opera will listen with the full- For lyrical purposes the Italian style
est, serenest pleasure to the majestic sym- will always take the precedence, because
phonies of Beethoven or to the sublime
choruses of Handel. The devotees of the feelings. But it may happen, if ever we
various European schools have none of
this catholicity. A very accomplished
Italian musician used frankly to say , that
a symphony always put him to sleep ; and
as for the songs of Franz and other recent
German composers, he would rather hear
the filing of saws with an accompaniment
of wet fingers on a window-pane. The
Germans, on the other hand, have an equal
contempt for Italian music. For them,
Donizetti is melodramatic, Bellini puerile
LITERARY NOTICES.
Biography of Elisha Kent Kane. By Wil
Lian ELDER. Philadelphia : Childs &
Peterson . 8vo.
IF Dr. Kane's character had not been
free from any taint of imposture and vain.
glory, and if his reputation had not been
[ March,
and silly, and even Rossini ( who has writ
ten as many melodics as any composer,
save Mozart) is only fit to compose for
hand -organs. The American musical pub
lic can and do render to both schools the
justice they deny each other, -- and this be
cause we appreciate the aim and direction
of both . The tendency of modern Ger
man music is more and more in what we
might call a mathematical direction ; the
Teutonic listener examines the structure
of a movement as he would a geomet
rical proposition ; he notices the connec
tion and dopondence of the several parts,
and at the end, if he like it, he thinks
Q. E. D .; his pleasure is quiet, but sin
cere . The Italian, on the other hand,
makes everything subordinate to feeling ;
for him the music must sparkle with pleas
ure, burn with passion , or lighten with
rage ; borne upon the tide of emotion , the
under -current of harmony is a matter of
little moment ; there may be symmetry of
structure, and learning in the treatment of
themes ; if so, well ; if not, their absence
is not noticed as an essential defect.
music must primarily be addressed to the
have great composers here in America,
that to the instinctive grace and beauty of
this Southern school the magnificent or
chestral effects of the North may be added,
and thereby a grander and more perfect
whole be produced. At least, we can con
tinue to be eclectic, and in due time we
may develope music which , like Corin .
thian brass, shall contain the valuable
qualities of all the elements we appro
priate.
of that kind which can be submitted to the
austerest tests without being materially
lessened , he would have suffered much in
having so frank and truthful a biographer
as Dr. Elder . Nobody could have been
selected for the task who would have
worse performed the business of puffing,
1858.] Literary Notices. 637

or the work of recognizing and celebrating Though smaller than other boys of his
lofty traits of character and vigorous men- age, he possessed “ the clear advantage of
tal endowments better. He is a friend- that energy of nerve and that sort of twill
ly biographer , -- and well he may be ; for in the muscular texture which give tight
he declares that his researches into Dr. little fellows more size than they measure
Kane's private correspondence and papers and more weight than they weigh . ” At
revealed not a line which , if published, school he had under his charge a brother,
would injure his fame. It is, of course, two years younger than himself, who was
impossible for so genuine a man as Dr. once called up by the master to be whip
Elder to refrain from hearty eulogium ped. This disturbed Elisha’s notions of
where not to praise is the sign of a cyni- justice and his conceptions of the duties of
cal rather than a critical spirit ; but his a guardian, and, springing from his seat,
panegyric has the raciness and sincerity he exclaimed , “ Don't whip him , he's such
which proceed from the generous recogni- a little fellow !-whip me! ” The master,
tion of merit, and never indicates that om- interpreting “ this to be mutiny, which
inous faiseness of feeling which the sim. really was intended for fair compromise,
plest reader instinctively detects in the answered, “ I'll whip you, too ,Sir ! ' Strung
formal constructer of complimentary sen- for endurance, the sense of injustice chang
tences. Throughout the book, the biog- ed his mooil to defiance, and such fight as
rapher writes in the spirit of that sound he was able to make quickly converted
maxim which declares it to be asbase to re- the discipline into a fracas, and Elisha left
fuse praise where it is due, as to give praise the school with marks which required ex
where it is not due ; and we think that planation. "
few readers will be inclined to quarrel with In his eighteenth year he was prostrated
him for the quickness and depth of his by a disease which developed into inflam .
sympathies with his hero, except that mation of the lining membrane of the
small class of “ knowing ” minds who, lieart, from which he never recovered.
mistaking disbelief in human probity for The verdict of the physician was ever in
acuteness of intellect, find a mischievous his mind : “ You may fall at any time as
satisfaction in depressing heroes into cox- suddenly as from (by ) a musket-shot.”
combs, and resolving noble actions into His life was afterwards, indeed , like the
ignoble motives. life of a soldier constantly under fire. In
We have been especially interested in stead of making him a valetudinary, this
the account given of Dr. Kane's boyhood continual liability to death aided to make
and early life. As a boy , he had too much him a hero. He acted in the spirit of his
6
force, originality, and decided bias of na- father's advice, — “ If you must dic, die in
ture to be what is called a " good boy," harness. ” Dr. Elder proves that his ex
-one of those unfortunate children whose istence was prolonged by the hardihood
weakness of individuality passes for mor- which made him careless of death . “ The
al excellence, and who give their guar- current of his life shows convincingly that
dians so little trouble in the early de- incessant toil and exposure was (were) a
velopment and so much trouble in the sound hygienic policy in his case. Natu
maturity of their mediocrity. He would rally his physical constitution was a case of
not learn what he did not like, and coil springs, compacted till they quivered
what he felt would be of no use to him . with their own mobility ; nervous discase
He kept his memory free from all intel- had added its irritability, and mental en
lectual information which could not be ergy electrified them . It was doing or
transmuted into intellectual ability . The dying, with him . And it was not a tyrant
same daring, confidence , enterprise, and selfishness, a wild ambition , that ruled his
passion for action, which in after life made life, but a rare concurrence of mental apti
him an explorer, were first expressed in tude, moral impulse, and bodily necessity,
that love of mischief which vexes the that kept him incessant in adventure.”
hearts of parents and calls into exercise Nothing could damp this ardor. He con
the pedagogue's ferule. All arbitrary au- tracted the peculiar disease of every coun
thority found him a resolute little rebel. try and climate he visited, and was fre
Dr. Elder furnishes some amusing in- quently on what seemed his death -bed ;
stances of his audacity and determination. but no experience of physical misery had
638 Literary Notices. [ March,
any influence in blunting his intellectual mastery over the English language in orig
curiosity or impairing the energies of his inal composition, and Mr. Monti has at
will. One of those elastic natures “ who tained an almost equal success in the trans
ever with a frolic welcome take the thun- lation before us. We have remarked, in
der or the sunshine,” his whole existence reading it, a few solecisms and one or two
was wedded to action , and he was always trifling mistranslations, -but none of them
ready to suffer everything, if he could such as either to affect the essential integri
thereby do anything. ty of the version or to render it difficult for
We have no space to follow Dr. Elder the least intelligent reader to make out
in his minute and interesting account of clearly the sense of the original. We should
a life so short, yet so crowded with events, not have alluded to them at all, had we
as that in which the character of Dr. Kane not thought that they redounded rather to
was formed , manifested, and matured. the credit of the translator ; for they seem
The character itself - s0 gentle and so to prove that the work is entirely his own,
persistent, so full at once of self -reliance and has not been subjected to that super
and reliance on Providence, so tender in vision which any one of Mr. Monti's nu
affection and so indomitable in fortitude merous friends would have been glad to
is now one of the moral possessions of the offer.
country, worth more to it than any new Guerrazzi, the author of the book ,
invention which increases its industrial played a conspicuous part during the
productiveness or any new province which Italian Revolution of 1848–9. An advo
adds to its territorial dominion . That cate, we believe, by profession, he was one
must be a low view of utility which ex- of the chiefs of the moderate liberal party
cludes such a character from its list of use- in Tuscany, who, after the breaking out
ful things ; for the great interest of every of the Revolution, wished to avoid any
nation is, to cherish and value whatever sudden overturn by carrying out such re
tends to prevent its forces of intelligence forms as public sentiment demanded by
and conscience from being weakened by means of the existing powers and forms
idleness or withheld by timidity and self- of government. As head of the ministry
distrust; and certainly the example of Dr. called to inaugurate and administer the new
Kane will exert this wholesome influence, Constitution granted and sworn to by the
by the unmistakable directness with which Grand Duke, he became involuntarily the
it gives the lie to that lazy or cowardly Regent and in fact the Dictator of Tus
skepticism of the powers of the will , which cany , after the Grand Duke's treacherous
furnishes the excuse for thousands to slink flight to Santo Stefano. There is no evi
away from duty on the plea of inability to dence that he abused his power, or that
perform it. To the young men of the coun- he assumed any responsibilities not forced
try we especially commend this biography, upon hin by the necessities of liis position.
in the full belief that it will stimulate and Indeed , the best proof that he did not is,
stir to effort many a sensitive youth who that, after the Grand Duke had been forced
feels within himself the capacity to emu- again on his unwilling subjects by the bayo
late the spirit which prompted Dr. Kane's nets of his Austrian cousins, it was found
actions , if he cannot hope to rival their impossible to obtain Guerrazzi's conviction
splendor and importance. on a charge of high -treason , and that in a
city garrisoned by Austrian soldiers and
still under martial law. He was, however,
Beatrice Cenci : A Ilistorical Novel of the
incarcerated for several years before being
Sixteenth Century, by F. D. GUERRAZ brought to trial , and finally sentenced to
zi . Translated from the Italian by Luigi
Monti, A. M., Instructor of Italian at fifteen years' imprisonment. But even
this was such an outrage on public opinion
Harvard University , Cambridge. New that it was commuted to banishment. He
York : Rudd & Carleton , 310 Broad and en
way. 1858. Two vols. in one. pp. joying those exile nearofGenoa,
is now living inblessings constitutional
270 and 292.
government which he had desired to con
Three contemporary Italians, Mariotti, fer on his own country , and which we fer
( Gallenga , ) Mazzini , and Ruffini, have af- vently hope may survive the misguided
forded extraordinary examples of entire assaults of a fanatic liberalism , and con
1858. ] Literary Notices.
tinue to make Sardinia the centre of Italian
hope, as it is the van of Italian progress .
His “ Beatrice Cenci ” was written dur-
ing his imprisonment; and there is some-
thing fitting in the circumstance , that the
work of an exile should be translated by a
countryman also driven from his native
land in consequence of his devotion to the
idea of liberal and constitutional govern-
ment, and , like the author, sustaining him-
self unrepiningly by a dignified and useful
industry. It was also peculiarly fitting that
the translation should have appeared just
at the moment when the genius of Miss
Hosmer had renewed the interest of her
countrymen in the story of Beatrice, and
deepened their compassion for her un- to the simplicity of nature than in any
deserved misfortunes by a statuc so full
of pathos and power.
Guerrazzi belongs to the extreme left of
the school of historical novelists. He is
almost always at high pressure, and , in
spite of a certain force of thought and ex-
pression , is tinged decidedly and sometimes
unpleasantly with sentimentalism . He is
so little of an artist, that the story -teller is
subordinated in him to the propagandist,
and his work is not so near his heart as the
desire to make a strong argument against
the temporal power of the Papacy. He
interrupts his narrative too often with re-
flection and disquisition , shows too much
that fondness for the striking which is fatal
to the classic in expression, and rushes
out of his way at a highly -colored simile
as certainly as a bull at scarlet. llis char-
acters talk much , and yet develope them-
selves rather circumstantially than psy-
chologically.
Yet, in spite of these defects, Guerrazzi
has succeeded in so intensifying the high
lights and decp shadows of passion, pathos,
and horror in the story, as to make a very
effective picture, of the Caravaggio school.
There is a curious parallel between the
chapter where Count Cenci is imprisoned
in the cavern , and those scenes in Webster's
“ Duchess of Malfy ” where the Duchess
is tortured by her brothers. The rescm
blance is interesting on many accounts,
and serves to confirm us in a belief we
have long entertained that Webster's pecu-
liar power has been overrated, and that the
tendency to heap one nightmarc horror on
another is something characteristic rather
of the childhood than the maturity of gen-
ius. There is no modern story which re-
639
news for us the woes of the house of Tan
talus so awfully as this of the Cenci, and it
cannot fail to be of absorbing interest, espe
cially to those unfamiliar with its ghastly
details. Whether the theory which Guer
razzi assumes in order to render probable
the innocence of the Cenci be tepable or
not we shall not stop to discuss ; it is
enough that it serves to heighten the ro
mance and complicate the plot in a very
effective manner .
We cannot leave the book without say.
ing how much we were charmed with the
little episode of the old curate and his maid,
and his ass Marco . It seems to us that
Guerrazzi in this chapter has come nearer
other part of the book , and we augur
favorably from it for his future escape
from the perils of a too ambitious style
to the serenity of truer artistic develop
ment.
Of Mr. Monti's translation we can speak
in high terms of commendation . Success
in writing a foreign language is a rare
thing, and he has shown a remarkable
command of idiomatic expression. His
familiarity with the habits and proverbial
phrases of his native country gives him,
we think, an advantage over any English
translator, which more than counterbal.
ances the trifling inaccuracies of phrase
ology that here and there betray the for
eigner, and amount to nothing more than
an accent, which is not without its merit
of piquancy. In one respect we think he
has acted with great discretion, namely,
in now and then curtailing the reflections
which Guerrazzi has interpolated upon the
story to the manifest detriment of its in
terest and consecutiveness. If Signor
Guerrazzi should profit by these silent
criticisms, it would be to his advantage as
an author.
The Elements of Drawing ; in three Letters to
Beginners. By John Ruskin. With Il
lustrations drawn by the Author. 12mo.
London. 1857.
The art of drawing may be called the
art of learning to see ,-- and into this art
there is no guide to be compared with Mr.
Ruskin. His own admirable powers of
sight and of expression have been culti
vated by long, patient, and laborious study.
640 Literary Notices.
He has learned not only how to sce, but
what to sce, and how best to represent
what he sees. A teacher of the most ad-
vanced students of Art and Nature, he
offers himself now as a teacher of begin-
ners ; and this little book of his contains
a course of instruction admirably adapted
not only to teach drawing, but also to
teach the object and end for which it is
worth while to learn to draw . “ I would
rather teach drawing,” says Mr. Ruskin,
in his Preface, “ that my pupils may learn
to love Nature, than teach the looking at
Nature that they may learn to draw ."
And no one can study Mr. Ruskin's book
without gaining a profounder sense of the
infinite beauty and variety of Nature, and
of the unfathomable stores of her free .
ly lavished riches, or without acquiring
clearer perceptions of this beauty, and of
its relations to the Divine government and
order of the world .
Mr. Ruskin's book is essentially a prac-
tical one. His long experience as teacher
of drawing in the Working -Men's College
has given him knowledge of and sym-
pathy with the perplexities and difficulties
of beginners. It is a book for children
of twelve or fourteen years old ; and it is
especially fitted for circulation in district
and school libraries. All teachers of
schools, in which drawing forms a part of
the course, will find invaluable hints and
directions in it. In every case , the Eng .
lish edition , which is easily obtainable,
and at a very moderate price - should be
procured, not merely for the sake of the
original illustrations, but also as a mark of
respect and gratitude to the author.
In an Appendix containing many wise
and genial directions with regard to
“ Things to be studied " is a passage con-
cerning Books, which we quote for its co-
incidence of opinion with our own views
expressed in the January Number, and
for the sake of enforcing its recommenda-
tions.
“ I cannot, of course, suggest the choice
of your library to you ; every several mind
needs different books ; but there are some
books which we all need ; and assuredly ,
if you read Homer,** Plato , Æschylus, Ile
* Chapman's, if not the original.
[March.
rodotus, Dantc, * Shakspcare, and Spenser,
as much as you ought, you will not re
quire wide enlargement of shelves to right
and left of them for purposes of perpetual
study. Among modern books, avoid gen
erally magazine and review literature.
Sometimes it may contain a useful abridge
ment or a wholesome picce of criticism ;
but the chances are ten to one it will
either waste your time or mislead you...
Avoid especially that class of literature
which has a knowing tone ; it is the most
poisonous of all. Every good book, or
piece of book, is full of admiration and
awe ; it may contain firm assertion or
stern satire, but it never sneers coldly por
asserts haughtily , and it always leads you
to reverence or love something with your
whole heart. ...... A common book will
often give you much amusement, but it is
only a noble book which will give you
dear friends. Remember, also, that it is
of less importance to you, in your earlier
years, that the books you read should be
clever, than that they should be right ; I
do not mean oppressively or repulsively in
structive, but that the thoughts they ex.
press should be just, and the feelings they
excite generous. It is not necessary for
you to read the wittiest or the most sug
gestive books ; it is better, in general, to
hear what is already known and may be
simply said . ...... Certainly at present,
and perhaps through all your life, your
teachers are wisest when they make you
content in quiet virtue, and that litera
ture and art are best for you which point
out, in common life and familiar things,
the objects for hopeful labor and for hum
ble love." pp. 347–350.
* Cary's or Cayley's, if not the original.
I do not know which are the best translations
of Plato. Herodotus and Æschylus can on
ly be read in the original. It may seem
strange that I name books like these for " be
ginners " ' ; but all the greatest books contain
food for all ages ; and an intelligent and
rightly bred youth or girl ought to enjoy
much , even in Plato, by the time they are
fifteen or sixteen .
† The Allantic Monthly was not in exist
ence when Mr. Ruskin wrote this condemna
tion of magazines. The saving word for it
is “ generally." - EDITOR .
 THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL. I. - APRIL, 1858.—NO. VI.

THE HUNDRED DAYS.

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES.

That period of history between the respective place and going to the Ly
20th of March and the 28th of June, ceum at hours of lecture or recitation .
1815, being the interregnum in the reign All these establishments were, under
of Louis the Eighteenth, caused by the Napoleon, to a certain degree military.
arrival of Napoleon from Elba and his The roll of the drum roused the scholar
assumption of the government of France , to his daily work ; a uniform with the im
is known as “ The Hundred Days.” perial button was the only dress allowed
It is as interesting as it was eventful,to be worn ; and the physical as well as
and has been duly chronicled wherever the intellectual training was such, that
facts have been gathered to gratify a cu- very little additional preparation was re
riosity that is not yet weary of dwelling quired to qualify the inmate of the Lyce
on the point of time which saw the Star um for the duties and privations of the
of Destiny once more in the ascendant soldier's life. The transition was not un
before it sank forever. natural; and the boy who breakfasted in
Whatever is connected with this re- the open air, in midwinter, on a piece of
markable epoch is worthy of remem- dry bread and as much water as he chose
brance, and whoever can add the inter- to pump for himself,—who was turned
est of a personal experience, though it be adrift, without cap or overcoat, from the
limited and unimportant, should be satis study- room into the storm or sunshine of
fied, in the recital, to adopt that familiar an open enclosure, to amuse himself in
form which may give to his recollections his recess as he best might,—whose con
the strongest impress of reality. tinual talk with his comrades was of the
I was at that time a schoolboy in Paris. bivouac or the battle -field, - and who
The institution to which I was attached considered the great object of life to be
was connected with one of the National the development of faculties best fitted
Lyceums, which were colleges where stu- to excel in the art of destruction , would
dents resided in large numbers, and not be astonished to find himself sleep
where classes from private schools also ing on the bare ground with levy of
regularly attended, each studying in its raw conscripts.
VOL . I. 41
642 The Hundred Days. [ April,
I was in daily intercourse with several these things gathered with such avidi
hundred young men, and it may not be ty and regarded with such all-absorbing
uninteresting to dwell a moment on the interest as by the schoolboys of Paris.
character of my companions, especially Every step of the “ Grand Army ” was
as they may be considered a fair type watched with deep solicitude and com
of the youth of France generally at that merited upon with no doubtful criticism .
time. It is, moreover, a topic with which They made themselves acquainted with
few are familiar. There were not many the relative merit of each division, and
Americans in that country at that period. could tell which arm of the service most
I knew of only one at school in Paris contributed to the result of any particu
beside myself. lar battle. They collected information
If the brilliant glories of the Empire from all sources ,-from accounts in news
dazzled the mature mind of age, they papers, from army letters, from casual
wrought into delirium the impulsive brain conversation with some mained strag
of youth, whose impressions do not wait gler fresh from the scene of war. Each
for any aid from the judgment, but burn boy, as he made his periodical visit to
into the soul, never to be totally effaced . his family, brought back something to the
The early boyhood of those with whom general fund of anecdote. The fire that
I was associated had been one of con- burned in their young bosoms was fed by
tinual excitement. Hardly had the tales of daring, and there was a halo
hasty but eloquent bulletin told the Pa-round deeds of blood which effectually
risians that the name of another bloody concealed the woe and misery they
field was to be inscribed among the vic- caused. There was but one side of the
tories of France, and the cannon of the medal visible, and the figures on that
Invalides thundered out their notes of were so bold and beautiful that no one
triumph, when again the mutilated veter- cared for or thought of the ugly death's
ans were on duty at their scarcely cooled head on the reverse . The fearful con
pieces and the newswomen in the streets sumption of human life which drained
were shrilly proclaiming some new tri- the land, sweeping off almost one entire
umph of the imperial arms. Then came generation of able -bodied men , and leav
the details, thrilling a warlike people, and ing the tillage of the fields to the de
the trophies which symbolized success , crepitude of age, feebly aided by female
banners torn and stained in desperate hands, gave ample opportunity to gratify
conflict, destined to hang over Christian the ardent minds panting to exchange
altars until the turning current of for- the tame drudgery of school and college
tune should drift them back ,-parks of for the limited, but to them world -wide,
artillery rumbling through the streets, authority of the subaltern's sword and
to be melted into statue or triumphal epaulet. There seemed to them but one
column,-and, amid the spoils of war, road to advancement. The profession of
everything most glorious in Art to fill arms was the sole pursuit which opened
that wondrous gallery, the like of which a career bounded only by the wildest
the eye of man will never look upon dreams of ambition. What had been
again. At last, in some short respite of could be ; and the fortunate soldier might
those fighting days, came back the con- find no check in the progressive honors
querors themselves, to enjoy a fleeting of his course, until his brows should be
period of rest and fame ere they should encircled by the insignia of royalty. It
stiffen on Russian snows, or swell the required more than mortal courage for
streams which bathe the walls of Leip- a young man to intimate a preference
sic, or blacken, with countless dead, the for some more peaceful occupation . A
plains stretching between the Rhine and learned profession might be sneeringly
their own proud capital. tolerated ; but woe to him who spoke of
By no portion of the people were agriculture, or commerce, or the me
1858.] The Hundred Days. 643

chanic arts ! There was little comfort his admiring auditors. He would then
for the luckless wight who, in some un- tell how, after hours of desperate fighting,
guarded moment, gave utterance to such the Emperor, seeing that the decisive mo
ignoble aspirations. Henceforth he was, ment had arrived, ordered up the Im
like the Pariah of India, cut off from perial Guard ; how the veterans, whose
human sympathy, and the young gen- hairs had bleached in the smoke of a
tlemen whose tastes and tendencies led hundred battles, advanced to fulfil their
them to prefer the more aristocratic mission ; how with firm tread and lofty
trade of butchery felt that there was bearing, proud in the recollections of the
a line of demarcation which complete- past and strong in the consciousness of
ly and conclusively separated them from strength, they entered the well-fought
him . field ; and how from rank to rank of
This predilection for military life re- their exhausted countrymen pealed the
ceived no small encouragement from the shout of exultation, for they knew that
occasional visit of some young Cæsar, the hour of their deliverance had come ;
and then, with overwhelming might,
whose uniform had been tarnished in the
experiences of one campaign, and who all branches of the service, comprised
returned to his former associates to in- in that magnificent reserve, swept like
dulge in an hour of unalloyed glorifica- a whirlwind, driving before them horse
tion . and foot, artillery, equipage, and stand
Napoleon , when he entered the Tuil- ards, all mingled in irremediable con
eries after prostrating some hostile king- fusion .
dom, never felt more importance than With what freedom did our young
did the young lieutenant in his service hero comment on the campaign, speaking
when he passed the ponderous doors such names as Lannes and Ney, Murat
which úshered him into the presence of and Massena, like household words ! He
his old schoolfellows. What a host of did not, perhaps, state that the favorable
adınirers crowded around him ! What result of things was entirely owing to
an honor and privilege to be standing his presence, but it might be inferred
in the presence, and even pressing the that it was well he threw in his sword
hand or rushing into the embrace, of when the fortunes of the Empire trem
an officer who has really seen bayonet- bled in the balance.
charges and heard the whistling of grape- Under such influences, and with the
shot ! Ilow the older ones monopolized excitement produced by the marvellous
the distinguished visitor, and how the success of the French armies, it is not
little boys crowded the outer circle to singular that young men looked eagerly
catch a word from the military oracle, forward to a participation in the prodi
proudly happy if they could get a dis- gies and splendors of their time,, - that
tant nod of recognition ! And then the they should turn disdainfully from the
questions which were showered upon paths of honest industry, and that every
him , too numerous and varied to be an- thing which constitutes the true wealth
swered And how he described the and greatness of a state should have been
forved marches, and the manæuvring, despised or forgotten in the lurid and
and the great battle how the cannon- blood -stained glare of military glory,
ade seemed the breaking up of heaven which cowered like an incubus on the
and earth, and the solid ground shook breast of Europe. The battle - fields
under the charges of cavalry ; how, yet were beyond the frontiers of their own
louder than all, rang the imperial bat- country ; the calamities of war were too
tle -cry, maddening those who uttered it ; far distant to obtrude their disheartening
how death was everywhere, and yet he features; and no lamentations mingled
escaped unharñed , or with some slight with the public rejoicings. Many a
wound which trebled his importance to broken - hearted mother mourned in se
614 The Hundred Days. [ April,
cret for her son lying in his bloody had long waved over them, their unnum
grave ; but individual grief was disre- bered graves lay thick in the German's
garded in the madness which pervaded Fatherland, and the floods of the Bere
all classes, vain -glorious from repeated zina were yet giving up their unburied
and uninterrupted success. dead . The remnant of that once invin
But the time had come when the storm cible army did all that could be done ;
was to pour in desolation over the fields but there were limits to endurance, and
of France, and the nations which had exhaustion anticipated the hour of com
trembled at her power were to tender bat. Men fell dead in their ranks, un
back to her the bitter cup of humilia- touched by shot or steel; and yet the
tion. The unaccustomed sound of hostile survivors pressed on to take up the
cannon broke in on the dreams of invin- positions assigned by their leader, who
cibility which bad entranced the people, seemed to be proof against either fatigue
and deeds of violence and blood , which or despair. His last bold move, on
had been complacently regarded when which he staked his empire, was a splen
the theatre of action was on foreign did effort, but it failed him . It was the
territory, seemed quite another thing daring play of a desperate gamester, and
when the scene was shifted to their own nearly checkmated his opponents. But
vineyards and villages. when , instead of pursuing him, they
The genius of Napoleon never exhib- marched on Paris, he left his army to fol
ited such vast fertility of resources as low as it could, and hastened to anticipate
when he battled for life and empire in his enemies. When about fifteen miles
his own dominions. Every foot of ground from Paris, he received news of the bat
was wrested from him at an expense of tle of Montmartre and the capitulation
life which thinned the innumerable hosts of the city. The post-house where he
pressing onward to his destruction . He encountered this intelligence was within
stood at bay against all Europe in arms ; sight of the place where I passed my
and so desperately did he contend against vacations. I often looked at it with inter
the vast odds opposed to him, and so est, for it was there that the vision first
rapidly did he move from one invading flashed before him of his broken empire
column to another, successively beating and the utter ruin which bade farewell
back division upon division, that his as- to hope. He had become familiar with
tonished foes, awed by his superhuman reverses . His veteran legions bad per
exertions, bad wellnigh turned their fa- ished in unequal strife with the ele
ces to the Rhine in panic - stricken re- ments, or melted away in the hot flame
treat. But the line of invasion was so of conflict; his most devoted adherents
widely extended that even his ubiquity had fallen around him ; yet his iron soul
could not compass it. His wonderful bore up against his changing fortunes,
power of concentration was of little avail and from the wrecks of storin and battle
to him when the mere skeletons of regi- there returned
ments answered to his call, and, along -" the conqueror's broken car,
his weakened line, the neglected glean The conqueror's yet unbroken heart."
ings left by the conscription, now hastily
garnered in this last extremity, greeted But the spirit which had never quailed
him in the treble notes of childhood . before his enemies was crushed by the
The voices of the bearded men , which desertion of his friends. He had now to
once hailed his presence, were hushed in feel that treason and ingratitude are at
death. They had shouted his name in tendants on adversity, and that the wor
triumph over Europe, and it had quivered shippers of power , like the Gheber de
on their lips when parched with the mor- votee, turn their faces reverently towards
tal agony. Their bones were whitening the rising sun .
the sands of Egypt, the harvests of Italy There are few things in history so
1858.] The Hundred Days. 645

touching as the position of Napoleon at she had started on her course of redemp
Fontainebleau, during the few days tion . At length, slowly and prudently,
which preceded his abdication and de- the allied armies commenced their home
parture for the Island of Elba. Nearly ward march, and the reigning family
all his superior officers forsook him , not were left to their own resources, to rec
even finding time to bid him adieu. oncile as they could the heterogeneous
Men whom he had covered with wealth materials stranded by the receding tide
and honors, who had most obsequiously of revolution. But concession formed
courted his smiles, and been most vehe- no part of their character, and reconcili
ment in their protestations of fidelity, ation was an unknown element in their
were the first to leave him in his mis- plan of government. They took posses
fortune, forgetting, in their anxiety to sion of the throne as though they had
conciliate his successor, to make the only been absent on a pleasure excur
slightest stipulation for the protection sion, and, ignoring twenty years of par
of their benefactor. He was left in the venu glory, affected to be merely contin
vast apartments of that deserted palace, uing an uninterrupted sovereignty. The
with hardly the footsteps of a domestic pithy remark of Talleyrand, that “" they
servant to break its monastic stillness ; had learned nothing and forgotten noth
and , for the first time in his eventful life, ing," was abundantly verified . Close fol
he sat, hour after hour, without move- lowing in their wake, came hordes of
ment, brooding over his despair. At emigrants famnished by long exile and
last, when all was ready for his depart- clamorous for the restitution of ancient
ure, he called up something of his old privileges. There was nothing in com
energy, and again stood in the presence mon between them and the men of the
of what remained of the Imperial Guard , Republic, or of the Empire. They as
which was faithful to the end. These sumed an air of superiority, which the
brave men had often encircled him , like latter answered with the most undis
a wall of granite, in the hour of utmost guised contempt. Ridicule, that fearful
peril, and they were now before him , to political engine, which, especially in
look upon him , as they thought, for the France, is sufficient to batter down the
last tine. He struggled to retain his hopes of any aspirant who lays himself
firmness, but the effort was beyond hu- open to it, and which Napoleon himself,
man resolution ; his pride gave way be in his greatest power, feared more than
fore his bursting heart, and the stern foreign armies or intestine conspiracies,
vanquisher of nations wept with his old was most unsparingly directed against
comrades. them . The print-shops exposed them
Napoleon was gonc. His empire was in every possible form of caricature, the
in the dust. The streets of his capital theatres burlesqued their pretensions,
were filled with strangers, and the vola- songs and epigrams contributed to their
tile Parisians were almost compensated discomfiture, and all the ingenuity of a
for the degradation, in their wonder at witty and laughter-loving people was un
the novel garb and uncouth figures of mercifully poured out upon this resur
their eneinies. The Cossacks of the Don rection of antediluvian remains. Their
had made their threatened “ hurra," and royal patrons came in for a full share of
bivouacked on the banks of the Seine. the general derision, but they seemed
Prussian and Austrian cannon pointed entirely unmindful that there was such
down all the great thoroughfares, and by a thing as popular opinion , or any other
their side, day and night, the burning will than their own. There ,were ob
match suggested the penalty of any popu- jects all around them which might have
lar commotion. The Bourbons were at preached to them of the uncertainty of
the Tuileries, and France appeared to human grandeur and the vanity of king
have moved back to the place whence ly pride, reminding them that there is
646 The Hundred Days. [ April,
but a step from the palace to the scaffold , whatever may have been the hopes of
which step had been taken by more than the lovers of tranquillity, or the wishes
one of their family. The walls of their of warriors worn out in service, or the
abode were yet marked by musket-balls, maternal instincts which would avert
mementos of a day of appalling violence, the iron hand clutching at new victims
and from the windows they could see for the shrine of Moloch, I can answer
the public square where the guillotine that the boys remained staunch Bona
had permanently stood and the pave. partists, for I was in the midst of them ,
ment had been crimsoned with the blood and I have the fullest faith that those
of their race. They had awakened from about me were exponents of the whole
a long sleep, among a new order of men, generation just entering on the stage
who were strangers to them , and who of action. During the decline of the
looked upon them as beings long since Empire, when defeat might be supposed
buried , but now, unnaturally and indec- to have quenched the fire of their enthu
orously, protruded upon living society. siasm , they remained unchanged, firmly
They commenced by placing themselves trusting that glory would retrace her
in antagonism to the nation , and erected steps and once more follow the imperi
a barrier which effectually divided them al eagles. And now , when their idol
from the people. The history of the Re- was overthrown, their veneration had
public and the Empire was to be blotted not diminished nor wavered . Napole
out ; it was a forbidden theme in their on, with his four hundred grenadiers, at
presence, and whatever reminded them Elba, was still the Emperor; and those
of it was carefully hidden from their le who, as they conceived, had usurped
gitimate vision. The remains of the Old his government, received no small share
Guard were removed to the provinces of hatred and execration . Amidst aban
or drafted into new regiments; leaders, donment and ingratitude, when some de
whose very names stirred France like serted and others reviled him, the boys
the blast of a trumpet, were almost un- were true as steel. It was not solely
known in the royal circle ; and the great because the career which was open to
Exile was never to be mentioned without them closed with his abdication, but a
the liability to a charge of treason . nobler feeling of devotion animated them
During all this time of change, the in his hour of trial, and survived his
youth of France, shut up in schools and downfall.
colleges, kept pace with the outer world Many of our instructors were well
in information , and outstripped it in satisfied with the new state of things.
manifestations of feeling. I can judge Some of the older ones had been edu
of public sentiment only by inferences cated as priests, and were officiating in
drawn from occasional observation , or their calling, when the Revolution broke
the recorded opinions of others. I be- in upon them, trampling alike on sacred
lieve that many did not regret the fall shrine and holy vestment. The shaven
of Napoleon, being weary of perpetual crown was a warrant for execution, and
war, and hoping that the accession of it rolled beneath the guillotine, or fell by
the Bourbons would establish permanent cold blooded murder at the altar where
peace. I believe that those who had it ministered . Infuriated mobs hunted
attained the summit of military rank them like bloodhounds; and the cloisters
were not unwilling to pass some portion of convent and monastery, which had
of their lives in the luxury of their own hitherto been disturbed only by footsteps
homes. I believe that there were moth- gliding quietly from cell to chapel, or
ers who rejoiced that the dreaded con- the hum of voices mingling in devotion,
scription had ended, and that their sons now echoed the tread of armed ruffians
were spared to them . I believe all this, and resounded with ribaldry and impre
because I understood it so to be. But cations. An old man, who was for a time
1858.] The Hundred Days. 647

my teacher, told me many a tale of those domain , he is said to have exclaimed,-

days. He had narrowly escaped, once, “ The Congress of Vienna is dissolved ! ”
by concealing himself under the floor of It was a beautiful afternoon of early
his room . He said that he felt the press spring, when a class returned from the
ure , as his pursuers repeatedly passed Lyceum with news almost too great for
over him, and could hear their avowed utterance . One bad in his hand a coarse,
intention to hang him at the next lamp- dingy piece of paper, which he waved
post,-a mode of execution not uncom- above his head, and the others followed
mon, when hot violence could not wait him with looks portending tidings of no
the slow processes of law. ordinary character. That paper was the
These men saw in the Restoration a address of Napoleon to the army, on
hope that the good old times would come landing from Elba. It was rudely done,
back ,—that the crucifix would again be the materials were of the most common
an emblem of temporal power, mightier description, the print was scarcely legi
than the sword ,—that the cowled monk ble,but it was headed with the impe
would become the counsellor of kings, rial eagle, and it contained words which
and once more take his share in the none of his old soldiers could withstand.
administration of empires. How it reached Paris, simultaneously
But if they expected to commence with the intelligence of his landing, is be
operations by subjecting their pupils to yond my comprehension ; but copies of it
their own legitimate standard, and to were rapidly circulated , and all the in
bring about a tame acquiescence in the habitants of Paris knew its contents be
existing order of things, they were woful- fore they slept that night.
ly mistaken . Conservatism never strug- I know of no writer who has so thor
gled with a more determined set of rad- oughly understood the wonderful elo
icals. Their life and action were trea- quence of Napoleon as Lord Brougham .
son . They talked it, and wrote it, and He has pronounced the address to the
sang it. There was no form in which Old Guard , at Fontainebleau, “ a master
they could express it that they left un- piece of dignified and pathetic composi
touched . They covered the walls with tion ” ; and the speech at the Champ de
grotesque representations of the royal Mars, he says, " is to be placed amongst
family ; they shouted out parodies of the most perfect pieces of simple and
Bourbon songs ; and there was not a majestic eloquence.” Napoleon certainly
hero of the old régime, from Hugh Ca knew well the people with whom he had
pet down , whose virtues were not cele- to deal, and his concise, nervous, com
brated under the name of Napoleon. It prehensive sentences told upon French
was in vain that orders were issued not feeling like shocks of a galvanic battery.
to mention him. They might as well What would have been absurd, if ad
have told the young rebels not to breathe. dressed to the soldiers of any other na
“ Not mention him ! They would like tion, was exactly the thing to fire his own
to see who could stop them ! ” And they with irresistible energy. At the battle
yelled out his name in utter defiance of of the Pyramids he said to them , “ For
regulation and discipline. ty centuries look upon your deeds,” and
Wonder was occasionally expressed, they understood him . He pointed to
whether the time would come which " the sun of Austerlitz ," at the dawn of
would restore him to France. And now many a decisive day, and they felt that it
" the time had come, and the man." rose to look on their eagles victorious. If
While the assembled sovereigns were the criterion of eloquence be its power
parcelling out the farm of Europe, in over the passions, that of Napoleon Bon
lots to suit purchasers, its late master aparte has been rarely equalled. It
decided to claim a few acres for his was always the right thing at the right
own use, and, as he set foot on his old time, and produced precisely the effect
648 The Hundred Days. [ April,
it aimed at. was never more apparent and they thought it advisable to quit the
than in the address in question. There premises before the new lessee took pos
were passages which thrilled the martial session .
spirit of the land, and quickened into The next afternoon , my father, who
life the old associations connected with was at that time in Paris, called for me,
days of glory. Marshal Ney said, attold me that a change was evidently
his trial, that there was one sentence *about to take place, and wished me to
in it which no French soldier could re- accompany him . As we passed through
sist, and which drew the whole of his the streets, the noise of our carriage was
army over to the Emperor. the only sound heard. Most of the shops
Such was the paper, which was read were closed ;1 few persons were abroad,
amidst the mad demonstrations of my and we scarcely met or passed a single
schoolfellows. Their extravagance knew vehicle . As we drew near the Tuileries
no limits ; studies were neglected ; and the evidences of life increased, and when
the recitations, next morning, demon- we drove into the Place du Carrousel,
strated to our discomforted teachers that the quadrangle formed by the palace and
the minds of their pupils had passed the Louvre, the whole immense area was
the night on the march from Cannes filled with people ; yet the stillness was
to Paris. awful. Men talked in an undertone, as
The court journals spoke lightly of the they stood grouped together, apparently
whole matter, pronounced the “ usurper " unwilling to communicate their thoughts
crazy, and predicted that he would be beyond their particular circle. The
brought to the capital in chains. There sound of wheels and the appearance of
were sometimes rumors that he was de- the carriage caused many to rush to
feated and slain, and again that he was wards us ; but, seeing strangers, they let
a prisoner at the mercy of the king. The us pursue our way until we drew up
telegraphic despatches were not made near the Arch of Triumph.
public, and the utmost care was prac- It was a strange sight, that sea of
tised by the government to conceal the heads all around us heaving in porten
fact that his continually increasing col- tous silence at the slightest incident.
umns were rapidly approaching. There They felt that something, they hardly
appeared to be no alteration in the usual knew what, was about to take place.
routine of the royal family, and there They were ignorant of the exact state of
was no outward sign of the mortal con- things; and as the royal standard was
sternation that was shaking them to the still on the palace, they supposed the
centre of their souls. The day before king might be there. Now and then, a
the entrance of the Emperor, I happened few officers, having an air of anthority,
to be passing through the court-yard of would walk firmly and quickly through
the Tuileries, when an array of carriages the crowd, as though they knew their er
indicated that the inmates of the palace rand and were intent on executing it.
were about to take their daily drive. As Again, a band of Polytechnic scholars,
my position was favorable, I stopped to always popular with the mob, would be
look at the display of fine equipages, and cheered as they hurried onward . Occa
soon saw part of the family come down sionally, small bodies of soldiers passed,
and go out, as I supposed, for their morn- going to relieve guard ; and as they bore
ing recreation . It was, however, no the Bourbon badge, they were sometimes
party of pleasure, and they did not stop noticed by a feeble cry of allegiance.
to take breath until they had passed the At last, a drum was heard at one of the
frontiers of France. They had informa- passages, and a larger number of troops
tion which was unknown to the public, entered the square. They were veteran
looking warriors, and bore upon them
* " La victoire marchera au pas de charge." the marks of dust-stained travel. Their
1858. ] The Hundred Days. 649

bronzed faces were turned towards the and convenience of their successor . On
flag that floated over the building, and the contrary, to solace themselves for
as they marched directly towards the en- the mortification of ejection, the retiring
trance, the multitude crowded around household pocketed some of the loose ar
them , and a few voices cried, “ Vive le ticles, denominated crown jewels , which
Roi ! ” The commanding officer cast a were afterwards recovered , however, by
proud look about him , took off his cap , a swap for one of the family, who was
raised it on the point of his sword , show- impeded in his retreat and flattered into
ing the tricolored cockade, and shouted, the presumption that he was worth ex
“ Vive l’Empereur !” The charm was changing
broken ; and such a scene as passed be- We alighted from our carriage and
fore me no man sees twice in this world . passed through the basement -passage of
All around those armed men there burst the palace into the garden . We walked
a cry which , diverging from that centre , to the further end, encountering people
spread to the outer border, till every voice who had heard the shouting and were
of that huge mass was shrieking in per- hurrying to ascertain its meaning. At a
fect frenzy. Those nearest to the soldiers bend of the path we met Mr. Crawford ,
rushed upon them , hugging them like long- our Minister at Paris, with Mr. Erving,
lost friends ; some danced , or embraced U. S. Minister to Spain , and they eagerly
the man next to them ; some laughed inquired , “What news ?” My father
like maniacs, and some cried outright. turned , and, walking back with them a
The place, where a few minutes before few steps to where the building was visi
there arose only a confused hum of sup ble, pointed to the standard at its sum
pressed whisperings, now roared like a mit. Nothing more was necessary . It
rock - bound sea -coast in a tempest. As if told the whole story.
by magic, men appeared decorated with I left them and hurried back to the
tricolored ribbons, and all joined with the institution to which I belonged . I was
soldiers in moving directly toward the anxious to relate the events of the day,
place where the white flag was flapping and, as I was the only one of the pu
its misplaced triumph over eyes which pils who had witnessed them , I had a
glared at it in hatred and hands which welcome which might well have excited
quivered to rend it piecemeal. Their the jealousy of the Emperor. As far as
wishes were anticipated ; for the foremost the school was concerned , I certainly di
rank had scarcely reached the threshold vided honors with him that evening. It
of the palace, when down went the en- was, however, a limited copartnership,
sign of the Bourbons, and the much- and expired at bedtime.
loved tricolor streamed out amidst thun- Napoleon entered the city about eight
der shouts which seemed to shake the o'clock that night. We were nearly two
carth . miles from his line of progress, but we
A revolution was accomplished. One could distinctly trace it by the roar of
dynasty had supplanted another ; and an voices, which sounded like a continuous
epoch, over which the statesman ponders roll of distant thunder.
and the historian philosophizes, appeared I saw him, two days after, at a window
to be as much a matter -of-course sort of of the Tuileries. I stopped directly un
thing as the removal of one family from der the building, where twenty or thirty
a mansion to make room for another. In persons had assembled, who were crying
this case, however, the good old custom out for him with what seemed to me
of leaving the tenement in decent condi- most presumptuous familiarity. They
tion was neglected ; the last occupants called him “ Liitle Corporal,”—“ Cor
having been too precipitate in their de- poral of the Violet,” — said they wanted
parture to conform to the usages of good to see him , and that he must come to
housekeeping by consulting the comfort the window . He looked out twice dur
650 The Hundred Days. [ April,
ing the half -hour I staid there, had on could contribute to the approaching con
the little cocked hat which has become flict. Cannon were cast with unprece
historical, smiled and nodded good -na- dented rapidity, and the material of war
turedly, and seemed to consider that was turned out to the extent of human
something was due from him to the ability. But he was deficient in every
" many -beaded ” at that particular time. thing that constitutes an army. Men,
Such condescension was not expected or horses, arms, equipage, all were wanting.
given in his palmy days, but he felt now The long succession of dreadful wars
his dependence on the people, and had which had decimated the country had
been brought nearer to them by misfor- also destroyed, beyond the possibility of
tune. immediate repair, that formidable arın
It was said, at the time, that he was which had decided so many battles, and
much elated on his arrival, but that he which is peculiarly adapted to the im
grew res ed, if not depressed, as his petuosity of the French character. The
awful responsibility became more and cavalry was feeble, and it was evident,
more apparent. He had hoped for a even to an unpractised eye, as the col
division in the Allied Councils, but they umns marched through the streets, that
were firm and united, and governed the horses were unequal to their riders.
only by the unalterable determination The campaign of Moscow had been irre
to overwhelm and destroy him . He saw trievably disastrous to this branch of the
that his sole reliance was on the chances service. Thirty thousand horses had
of war ; that he had to encounter ene- perished in a single night, and the events
mies whose numbers were inexhaustible, which succeeded had almost entirely ex
and who, having once dethroned him, hausted this indispensable auxiliary in
would no longer be impeded by the ter- the tactics of war.
ror of his name. There was, besides, no The expedients to which the govern
time to recruit his diminished battalions, ment was reduced were evident in the
or to gather the munitions of war. The processions of unwashed citizens, which
notes of preparation sounded over Eu- paraded the streets as a demonstration
rope, and already the legions of his foes of the popular determination to “ do or
were hastening to encircle France with die.” Whatever could be raked from
a cordon of steel. The scattered relics the remote quarters of Paris was mar
of the “ Grand Army ” which had erect- shalled before the Emperor. Faubourgs,
ed and sustained his empire were has- which in the worst days of the Revolu
tily collected , and, as they in turn reach- tion had produced its worst actors, now
ed Paris, were reviewed on the Car poured out their squalid and motley in
rousel and sent forward to concentre habitants, and astonished the more re
on the battle-ground that was to decide fined portions of the metropolis with this
his fate. No branch of art was idle that eruption of semi-civilization .
[To be continued .)
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 651

MY JOURNAL TO MY COUSIN MARY .

[ Concluded. )
IV.
June.
er constellations, my sister's protégée is
among women ;-it is ridiculous to call
I can no longer complain that I see her Kate's friend. Many men would
no one but Kate, for she has an ardent find their ideal of loveliness in her. She
admirer in one of our neighbors. He would surely excite a tender, protecting,
comes daily to watch her, in the Dumbie- cherishing affection . But where is there
dikes style of courtship, and seriously in- room in her for the wondering admira
terferes with our quiet pursuits. Besides tion, the loving reverence, which would
this “braw wooer,” we have another in- make an attempt to win ber an aspira
truder upon our privacy. tion ? And that is what my love must
Kate told me, a fortnight ago, that she be, if it is to have dominion over me.
expected a young friend of hers, a Miss Ah, Mary ! I forget continually that
Alice Wellspring, to pay her a visit of for me there is no such joy in the future.
some weeks. I did not have the ingrati “Hope springs eternal in the human breast, "
tude to murmur aloud, but I was secretly
devoured by chagrin. and no reasoning can quell it. I sub
How irksome, to have to entertain a due my fancy to my fate sometimes, as
young lady; to be obliged to talk when I a rational creature ought surely to do ;
did not feel inclined ; to listen when I but then I suffer acutely, and am wretch
was impatient and weary ; to have to ed ; while in a careless abandonment of
thank her, perhaps fifty times a day, for myself to any and every dream of com
meaningless expressions of condolence or ing joy I find present contentment. I
affected pity ; to tell her every morning cannot help myself. I shall continue to
how I was ! Intolerable ! dream , I am sure, until I have grown so
Ten chances to one, she was a giggling, old that I can resign all earthly hopes
flirting girl,—my utter abhorrence. I without sighing. I pray to be spared the
had seldom heard Lina speak of her. I sight of any object which, by rousing with
only knew that she and her half-brother in me the desire of present possession,
came over from Europe in the same vessel may renew the struggle with despair, to
with my sister, and that, as he had sailed which I nearly succumbed when my pro
again, the young lady was left rather fession was wrenched from me.
desolate , having no near relatives. I was at first surprised to find that my
Miss Wellspring arrived a week ago, sister cherished a more exceeding tender
and I found that my fears had been ness for her young friend than I had ever
groundless. She is an unaffected, pretty seen her manifest for any one ; but my
little creature -a
, — perfect child, with the astonishment ceased when I found out
curliest chestnut hair, deep blue eyes, that Alice's half-brother, who bears a
and the brightest cheeks, lips, and teeth . different name, is the gentleman I saw
She has a laugh that it is a pleasure to with Kate in the box -tree arbor.
hear, and a quick blush which tempts to Since she has been bere, Alice has
mischief. One wants continually to pro- been occupied in writing to different rel
voke it, it is so pretty, and the slightestatives about the arrangements for her
word of compliment calls it up. future home,-a matter that is still unset
What the cherry is to the larger and tled . She brings almost all her letters to
more luscious fruits, or the lily of the val- us, to be corrected ; for she has a great
ley to glowing and stately flowers, or dread of orthographic errors.
what the Pleiades are among the grand- I was lying upon my couch, in the
 652 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
porch, yesterday, and through the low out of sight and hearing. Here was a
window I could see Alice as she sat at dilemma !
her writing-desk. Kate was sewing be- Kate threw her thimble and scissors
side her, but just out of my sight. The into her box without her usual care , and
young girl's hand flew over the paper, I heard her walking to and fro. She
and a bright smile lighted up her face passed the window at every turn, and I
as she wrote . could see that her cheek was very pale,
“ This is aa different kind of letter from her eyes fixed upon the floor, and her
yesterday's, I fancy,” said Katc , — " not a finger pressed to her lip. She was think
business, but a pleasure letter. ” ing intently, in perfect abstraction. I
“ Yes, so it is ; for it is to Brother Wal- could see the desk with the open letter
ter, and all about you ! When he wrote upon it. At every turn Kate drew near
to tell me to love you and think much of er to it.
your advice , and all that, he said some- It was a moment of intense temptation
thing else ,which requires a full answer , to my sister . I knew it, and I watched
I can tell you ! " her struggles with a beating heart. It
Kate was silent. The letter was fin- was a weighty matter with her. A belief
ished, and Alice sprang up, tired of her in a successful rival might give Mr.
long application. I beard her kiss my pain, - might cause him to doubt her
sister, who then said, with a lame attempt truth and affection ,-might induce him
at unconcern , to forget her, or cast her off in bitter in
“ I suppose I am to look over your dignation at her supposed fickleness. I
letter while you run about to rest your- could see in her face her alarm at these
self. ” suppositions. Yes, it was a great temp
Alice quickly answered, “ No, thank tation to do a very dishonorable action.
you. I won't give you the trouble. The A word from me would have ended the
subject will make Walter blind to faults.” trial; for it is only in solitude that we
“ But do you suppose that I have no are thus assailed. But then where would
curiosity as to what you have said about have been her merit ? I should only
me ? " cheat her out of the sweetest satisfaction
“ I have said nothing but good. A in life, -a
а victory over a wicked sugges

little boasting about your conquests is the tion. My presence would make the Evil
worst. I mention your Dumbiedikes One take to flight, and now she was
most flatteringly. I don't make fun of wrestling with him . I felt sure she would
him. I only want to scare Walter a not be conquered ; for I could not have
bit. ” looked on to see her defeat. But who
“ But, Alice, you don't know the cir. can estimate the power of a woman's
cumstances. Do let me see the letter ; it curiosity, where the interests which are
may be important ” her very life are concerned ?
“ No, no ! you shall never see it ! In- She paused by the desk . The letter
deed, no ! ” cried the girl, running across was upside clown to her. Her hand was
the porch and down the garden. She upon it to turn it, and she said boldly,
did not want any fastidious caution to aloud , —having forgotten me entirely,
suppress the fine things she had said, “ I have a right to know what she
or cause the trouble of writing another says ."
letter. So she ran out of hearing of the Then there was a hesitating pause,
entreaties of her friend . while she treinbled on the brink of dis
Ben came to the door to say that Old honor, —then a revulsion , and an indig
Soldier and the cabriolet were ready for nant “Pshaw !”
my daily drive. While we were gone, It was a contemptuous denial of her
the boy would call and take Alice's let- own flimsy self-justification. She snatch
ter to the post. The writer of it was ed away her hand, as she said it, with an
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 653

angry frown . The blood rushed back “ What are your terms ? ”
to her face. “ Promise faithfully to tell me how it
“ I ought to be ashamed of myself !" came where I found it, and I will show it
she exclaimed, energetically. In a min- to you ,-yes, give it to you ,-- though, per
ute she was bustling about, putting away haps, I have the best claim to it, as near
her things. In passing the window , now est of kin to the owner."
that she was freed from the thraldom of Kate changed color, but would not be
her intense thinking, she saw me lying tray too much eagerness.
where I might have been the witness to “ I cannot promise,” she replied , try
her inclination to wrong . 66
ing for coolness, — " but if I can, I will
She started guiltily, and then began tell you all you want to know about
bunglingly to draw from me wbether I it.”
had noticed anything of it. I took her Alice could hide it no longer. She
hands, and looked her full in the face. held up a ring, with a motto on it in blue
enamel. I had seen it upon Kate's fin
“ I love you and honor you from the
very bottom of my soul, Kate ! ” ger, but not recently.
“ Not now ! You can't ! You must “Where did you find it ? " asked my
despise me! " she answered, turning away sister, with difficulty. She was very
with a swelling bosom . pale.
“ I declare I never held you in so high “ In the box -tree arbor. How came
estimation. Evil thoughts must come, it there ? It was Watty's, for I was with
even to the holiest saint; but only those him when be bought it in Venice. I
who admit and welcome them are guil- can believe that it is yours; but how
ty, —not those who repel and conquer came it lost, and trampled into the earth ?
them . Surely not ! " Didn't you care for it ? ”
“ Thank you, Charlie. That is en- She questioned with an arch smile.
couraging and comforting doctrine ; and She knew better than that, and she was
I think it is true. But wbat a lesson I burning with curiosity to understand
have h & d to - lay ! " why finding it moved Kate so deeply.
“ Yes, it has been a striking one. I She had a young girl's curiosity about
will write about it to Mary .” love -affairs. I came to the conclusion
66
• Oh, no ! for mercy's sake don't expose that Kate had offered to return the ring
me further ! ” on the day they parted , and that it fell
“ Then you wish her to think you are to the ground, disregarded by both, oc
too immaculate to be even tempted ! cupied, as they were, with great emo ,
stronger, purer even than our Saviour ! tions.
for he knew temptation. You are above “ Come,” continued Alice,“ did he,
it,-- are you ? Come, Kate,-insincerity, or you, throw it away ? Speak, and you
pretension, and cowardice are not your shall have it.”
failings, and I shall tell Mary of this in- “ I can tell you nothing about it, and I
cident, which has deeply moved me, and will not claim your treasure- trove. Keep
will, I know, really interest her. Here it, Ally."
comes Alice.” “ Indeed, I won't keep other folks’ lore
The little lady presented herself before tokens! There,—it belongs on that finger,
us all smiles, concealing one hand under I know ! But do tell me about it !-do !
her apron. I will tell you something, if you will.
« Who's lost what I've found ? ” she Yes, indeed , I have got a secret you
cried. would give anything to know ! Walter
“ One of us, of course, ” said Kate. told it to me, and it is about you. He
“ No, neither, so far as I know ; but it spoke of it in his last letter, and said he
nearly concerns you, Miss Lina, and I meant to -Come, I'll tell you, though
intend to drive a hard bargain ." be said I mustn't, if you will only let me
 654 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
into the mystery of this ring. The secret V.
is in my letter, and I will let you read it,
if you will." New York. July.
Lina looked at me with meaning eyes. I was too comfortable, Mary ! Such
The contents of the letter were doubled peace could not last, any more than a
in value by this confession, and yet this soft Indian-summer can put off relent
was no temptation at all. She was not less winter.
alone . Oh, for those sweet June days when I
“ You foolish little thing,” she said, had my couch wheeled to the deepest
kissing the sweet, entreating face, " do shade of the grove, and lay there from
you suppose I will tell you my secrets, morning until evening, with the green
when you are so easily bribed to betray foliage to curtain me ,-the clover -scented
your brother's ? " wind to play about my hair, and touch
Alice's conscience was alarmed. my temples with softest, coolest fingers ,
66
" Why ! ” she ejaculated. “ How near the rushing brook to sing me to sleep,
I came to betraying confidence, — and the very little blossoms to be obsequious
without meaning to do it, either ! Oh, in dancing motion, to please my eye,
how glad I am you did not let me go on and the holy hush of Nature to tranquil
so thoughtlessly ! I should have been so lize my soul !
sorry for it afterwards ! I know Walter I had brought myself, by what I
will tell you himself, some day,—but I thought the most Christian effort, to be
have no business to do it, especially as content with my altered lot. I gave up
he did not voluntarily make me bis con- ambition , active usefulness, fireside, and
fidante ; I found out the affair by accident family. I tried but for one thing -
and he bound me to secresy . Oh, I peace.
thank you for stopping me when I was I had nearly attained it, when there
forgetting everything in my eager curi- comes an impertinent officer of fate,
osity ! And this letter, too, I offered known as Dr. G., and he peremptorily
to show you ! How strangely indis- orders me out of my gentle bliss. I am
creet ! ” sinking into apatby, forsooth ! The
66
" Perhaps I read it while you were warm weather is prostrating me ! I
gone,” said Kate, in a low voice. must be stirred to activity by torture,
No, you didn't, Kate ! You can't like the fainting wretch on the rack !
make me believe that of you ! I know I am commanded to travel! I, who can
.
you too well ! ” not bear the grating of my slow -moving
“ Indeed ! ” said Kate, blushing vio- wheels over the smooth gravel-walk,
lently ; “ I can tell you, I came very near without compressed lips and corrugated
it.” brow !
“ A miss is as good as a mile, Lina. The Doctor ordained it ; Kate exe
And I know you were far enough from cuted it. I am no longer my own mas
anything so mean .” ter ; and so here I am in New York ,
" I was so near as to have my hand resting for a day, on my way to some
upon your letter, Alice dear. One feath- retired springs in the Green Mountains,
er's weight more stress of temptation, where the water is medicinal, the air
and I should have fallen ." cool and bracing, the scenery transcen
“ Pure nonsense ! Isn't it, Charles ? ” . dent, and the visitors few .
“ Yes. Kate, you need not flatter I have taken Ben for my valet. He
yourself that you have universal ability, looks quite a gentleman when dressed
clever as you are . In anything dishonor- in his Sunday clothes, and his Scotch
able you are a perfect incapable, and shrewdness serves us many a good turn .
that is all you have proved this morn- He has the knack of arresting any little
ing." advantages floating on the stream of
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 655

travel, and securing them for our bene- thousand -fold more sweet to me than
fit. ever. Their delights were multiplied to
I journey on my wheeled couch from me by thinking of the number of hearts
necessity, as I have not been able to sit that took them in daily.
up at all since the heats of June set in . Kate and I rode in a carriage. Ben
So I have, in this trip, a novel experi- followed in a wagon, with the trunks and
ence, on the railroad, being consigned “ jaunting-car-r-r.” When we reached
to the baggage car, and upon the steam- the ferry, the porters carried my couch,
boat, to the forward deck. I cannot en- and Ben myself, depositing us upon the
dure the close saloons, and prefer the deck, where I could look upon the river.
fresh breeze, even when mingled with The stately flow of the waters impressed
tobacco -smoke. I go as freight, and me with dread. They swept by, not
Kate keeps a sharp eye to her bag- swift, not slow ,—steady, like fate. Ours
gage, for she will not leave my side. may be aa dull river to an artist; but its
I tried to flatter her by saying that the volume of water, its width, perhaps even
true order of things was reversed ,-her the flat shores, which do not seem to
sex being entitled to that name and posi- bound it, make it grand and impressive.
tion , and mine to the relation she now Kate recalled me from my almost
bore to me. She had the perversity to shuddering gaze down into the water,
consider this a twit, and gave me a sting- and drew my attention to a scene very
ing reply, which I will not repeat to you, unlike our little picturesque, rural views
because you are a woman likewise, and at home. The ruddy light of morning
would enjoy it too much. made the river glow like the deep -dyed
We left peaceful, green Bosky Dell Brenta , while our dear, unpretending
late in the afternoon, and slept in Phila- Quaker city showed like one vast struc
delphia that night. Yesterday -— the hot ture of ruby. Vessels of all kinds and
test day of the season - we set out for sizes ( though of but two colors,—black in
New York. I thought it was going to shadow , and red in sunlight) lay motion
be sultry, when, as we passed Washing less, in groups.
ton Square before sunrise, on our way to The New York passengers had now
the boat, I saw the blue haze among the collected on the ferry -boat, and I was all
trees, as still and soft and hay -scented alive to impressions of every kind. A
as if in the country. Ben often quotes crowd of men and boys around a soap
an old Scotch proverb ,- — “ Daylight willpeddler burst into a laugh, and I must
peep through a sma' hole.” So beauty needs shout out in irrepressible laughter
will peep through every small corner also, though I did not hear the joke. I
that is left to Nature, even under severe was delighted to mingle my voice with
restrictions. Witness our noble trees, other men's in one common feeling
walled in by houses and cramped by Compulsory solitude makes us good dem
pavements ! ocrats. Kate regarded me with watchful
The streets were quite deserted that eyes ; she was afraid I had become de
morning,-for,being obliged to ride very lirious ! I was amazed at myself for this
slowly, I had set out betimes. No one susceptibility,-1, who, accustomed to
was up but ourselves and the squir- hotel-life, had formerly been so impas
rels, except one wren , whose twittering sive, to be thus tickled with a straw !
sounded strangely loud in the hushed The river was soon crossed, and then
city. Probably she took that opportu- we took the cars. The heat and suffoca
nity to try her voice and note her im- tion were intolerable to me, and when
provement in singing, for in the rush of we arrived at Amboy I was so exhausted
day what chance has she ? These coun- that strangers thought me dying. But
try sounds and sights, in the heart of a Kate again , though greatly alarmed
populous city, were, for that reason , a herself, defended me from that imputa
656 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
tion . One half -hour on the deck of the which appeared to be the last of her
boat to New York , with the free ocean- stock , and reserved as a tit -bit for her
breeze blowing over me, made me a dinner. She turned it round, and eyed
strong man again ,-I mean, strong as it fondly, before she cut it carefully into
usual. It was inexpressible delight, that many equal parts. Then, with huge sat
ocean -breezc. It makes me draw a long isfaction, she began to devour it, mak
breath to think of it, and its almost mi- ing a smacking of the lips and working
raculous power of invigoration. But I of the whole apparatus of eating, which
will not rhapsodize to one who thinks proved that she intensely appreciated the
no more of a sea-breeze every afternoon uses of mastication , or else found a won
than of dessert after dinner. derful joy in it. “ How much above an
With my strength, my sense of amuse- intelligent pig is she ? ” I asked myself.
ment at what went on about me revived While I was pondering this question,
in full force. I was so absorbed, that I I saw that the boy nearest her stirred in
could not take in the meaning of any- his sleep, struggled uneasily with his tor
thing Kate said to me, unless I fixed my por, and at last lifted his head blindly
eyes, by a great effort, upon her face . with his eyes yet shut. He snifſed in the
So she let me stare about me undis- air, like a hungry dog. Yes ! The odor
turbed, and smiled like some indulgent of food bad certainly reached him , —that
mother, amused at my boyishness. I had sniff confirmed it,—and his eyes starting
no idea that so few months spent in se- open , he sat up, and looked with grave
clusion would make the bustling world steadiness at the pie. It was just the face
80 novel to me. of a dog that sees a fine piece of beef up
Observe, Mary, that I did not become on his master's table . He knows it is not
purely egotistical, until I began to mingle for him , - he has no hope of it,—he does
again with “ the crowd, the hum, the not go about to get it, nor think of the
shock of men.” Henceforth I shall not possibility of having it, yet he wants it !
be able to promise you any other topic It was a look of unmitigated desire.
than my own experiences. My individ- The woman had disposed of half of her
uality is thrust upon my notice momently dainty fare, taking up each triangular
by my isolation in this crowd. In soli- piece by the crust, and biting off the
tude I did not dream what a contrast I point, dripping with cherry- juice, first,
had become to my kind. Those strong, when her wandering gaze alighted upon
quick, shrewd business m - en on the boat the boy. She had another piece just
set it before me glaringly. poised, but she slowly lowered it to the
Soon after I was established upon the plate, and stared at the hungry face. I
forward deck, my attention was attracted expected her to snarl like a cat, snatch
by two boys lying close under the bul- her food and go away. But she didn't.
warks. I was struck by their foreign She counted the pieces,—there were five.
dress, their coarse voices, and their stupid She eyed them , and shook her head.
faces. Two creatures, I thought, near She again raised the tempting morsel,
akin to the beasts of the field . They for the woman was unmistakably hun
cowered in their sheltered corner, and gry . But the boy's steady' look drew
soon fell asleep. One of the busy boat- the pie from her lips, and she suddenly
hands found them in his way , and gave held out the plate to him, saying, “ There,
them aa shove or two, but failed to arouse honey, take that. May -be nc'er a mor
them . He looked hard at them, pitied sel's passed yer lips the day.” The boy
their fatigue, and left them undisturbed . seized the unexpected boon greedily, but
Presently an old Irish woman, a cake- did not forget to give a duck of his head,
and -apple -vendor, I suppose, sat down by way of acknowledgment. The wom
near them upon a coil of rope, and took an leaned her elbows on her knees, and
from her basket a fine large cherry-pie, watched him while he was devouring it.
 1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 657

He had demolished two pieces before more comfortable ; and he happened to

the other boy awoke at the sound of call both the stranger and myself by our
eating, which, however, at last reached names. I thus learned that his was Ry
his ears and aroused him , though the erson .

shout and kick of the boat -hand had not When he heard mine, he changed
disturbed him. He drew close to his color visibly, and looked eagerly at
companion, and watched him with water- Kate . I introduced him, and then, with
ing mouth, but did not dare to ask him a timidity quite unlike his former dash
for a share of what he seemed little ing air, he said he had the pleasure of
disposed to part with. The big boy fin- being acquainted with an admiring friend
ished the third piece, and hesitated about of hers,-Miss Alice Wellspring. Had
the fourth ; but no, he was a human be- she heard from her lately ?
ing,—no brute. He thrust the remain- “ Yes ; she was very well, staying
der into his watcher's hands, and turned with her aunt."
his back upon him, so as not to be tan- He was aware of that. He had ask
talized. Beasts indeed ! Here were two ed the question, because he thought he
instances of self-denial, nowhere to be could, perhaps, give later information of
matched in the whole animal creation , her than Kate possessed, and set her
except in that race which is but little mind at rest about the welfare of her
lower than the angels ! young friend, as she must be anxious.
Among the young gentlemen smoking He was glad to say that Miss Wellspring
around us, there was one who drew my was quite well — two hours ago.
attention , and that of every other per- Kate made a grimace at me, and an
son present, by his jolly laugh. He swered , that she was “glad to hear it.”
was a short man , with broad shoulders Mr. Ryerson looked unutterably grate
and full chest, but otherwise slight. He ful, and said he was 66sure she must be . "
was very good -looking, and had the air “ Portentous ! ” whispered Kate to me,
of a perfect man of the world ,—but not when the young man made a passing
in any disagreeable sense of the word, for sloop the excuse for turning away to
a more genial fellow I never saw . His bide his blushing temples.
ha ! ha ! was irresistible . Wherever be She gave him time, and then asked a
took his merry face, good -humor follow- few questions concerning Alice's home
ed. He had a smart clap on the shoul- and friends. He replied , that she was in
der for one, a hearty hand -shake for " a wretched fix . " Her aunt was a vix
another, a jocular nod for a third . I en- en, her home a rigorous prison. He
vied those whose company he sought, - sighed deeply, and seemed unhappy, un
even those whom he merely accosted . til the subject was changed , -a relief
Presently, to my agreeable surprise, be which Kate had too much tact to defer
drew near me, threw away his cigar, on long.
Kate's account, and said , - This sunny-hearted fellow made the
“ Lend me a corner of this machine, rest of the journey very short to me. I
Sir ? No seats to be had." think such a spirit is Heaven's very best
“ Certainly," I responded eagerly, and
66
boon to man . It is a delightful posses
then , with a bow to Kate, he sat down sion for one's-self, and a godsend to one's
upon the foot of my couch. He turned friends.
his handsome, roguish face to me, with a When we reached the Astor House ,
look at once quizzical and tenderly com- I was put to bed, like a baby, in the
miserating, while he rattled off all sorts middle of the afternoon, thoroughly ex
of lively nonsense about the latest news. hausted by the unusual excitement. The
The captain, who pitied my situation, I crickets and grasshoppers in the fields at
suppose, came up just then, to ask if home were sufficiently noisy to make me
anything could be done to make me pass wakeful nights; but now I dropped
VOL. I. 42
658 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
asleep amid the roar of Broadway, which youth in “ horrid business,” I can lic here
my open windows freely admitted. observing and enjoying the beautiful
Before I had finished my first nap, I world. Thereupon I overwhelm her with
was awakened by whispering voices, and quotations :— " The horse must be road
saw Ben standing by me, pale, and anx- worn and world -worn, that he may thor
iously searching Kate's face for informa- oughly enjoy his drowsy repose in the
tion. Her eyes were upon her watch, sun, where he winks in sleepy satisfac
her fingers on my wrist. tion ” ; — and Carlyle : “ Teufelsdröckl's
“ Pulse good, Ben. We need not be whole duty and necessity was, like other
alarmed. It is wholesome repose, -much men's, to work in the right direction, and
better than nervous restlessness. He no work was to be had ; whereby he be
66
can bear the journey, if he gets such came wretched enough " ; — and, Blessed
sleep as this.” is he who has found his work ; let him ask
"Humph ! " I thought, shutting my no other blessedness." Then I ask her,
eyes crossly. “Why don't she let a fel- if it is not the utmost wretchedness to
low be in peace, then ? It is very hard have found that work and felt its blessed
that I can't get a doze without being ness, and then be condemned not to do it.
meddled with ! ” To all this she replies by singing that old
“ I was just distraught, Miss Kathleen,” hymn, -I make no apology for writing it
said Ben ; "for it's nigh about twonty down entire,—perhaps you do not know
hour sin' he dropped asleep, and I was it,
frighted ontil conshultin' ye aboot wauk “ Heart, heart, lie still!
in ' him . " Life is fleeting fast ;
Strife will soon be past."
I burst into a laugh, and they both “ I cannot lie still ;
joined me in it, from surprise. It is not Beat strong I will."
often I call upon them for that kind of
sympathy. It is generally in sighs and “ Heart, heart, lie still !
groans that I ask them — most unwilling- Joy's but joy, and pain's but pain ;
Either, little loss or gain ."
ly, I am sure to participate. “ I capnot lie still ;
Kate wrote, some time ago, to our dear Beat strong I will."
little Alice, begging her to join us in
the Green Mountains, for it makes us “ Heart, heart, lie still!
both unhappy to think of that pretty Heaven over all
child under iron rule ; but ber aunt re Rules this earthly ball."
fused to let her come to us. “ I cannot lie still ;
Beat strong I will."

VI . “ Heart, heart, lie still !

Heaven's sweet grace alone
C— Springs. July. Can keep in peace its own."
“ Let thatmefill,
I am here established , drinking the And I am still."
waters and breathing the mountain air,
but not gaining any marvellous benefit “ Heaven's sweet grace " does not fill
from either of them. When I repine in my heart; for I am exhausting myself in
Ben's hearing, he sighs deeply, and ad- longings to walk again ,—to be independ
vises me “to heed the auld -warld prov- ent. I long to climb these mountains,
erb, and “ tak’ things by their smooth han- perverse being that I am ,-principally
dle ,' sin' there's nae use in grippin' at to get out of the way of counsel, sympa
thorns.” Kate, too, reproves me for hin- thy, and tender care. Since I can never
dering my recovery by fretting at its so liberate myself, I am devoured by de
tardiness. She tries to comfort me, by sire to do so . Kate divines this new
saying that I ought to be thankful, that, feeling, and respects it ; but as this is
instead of being obliged to waste my only another coal of fire heaped upon
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 659

my head, of course it does not soothe able enotion ? Must I always be a

me .
mute and unwilling petitioner for sym
Sometimes in the visions of the night pathy in suffering ?-always giving pain ?
I am bappy. I dream that I am at the never anything but pain and pity ?
top of Mount Washington. Cold, pure
air rushes by me ; clouds lie, like a gray Sunday.
Occan , beneath me. I am alone upon There is a summer -house near the
the giant rock, with the morning star spring, and now I lie there, watching the
and the measureless heights of sky. I water -drinkers. Like rain upon the just
tremble at the awful silence,-exult fear- and unjust, the waters benefit all , but
fully in it. The clouds roll away, and surely most those simple souls who take
leave the world revealed , lying motion- them with eager hope and bless them
less and inanimate at my feet. Yet I with thankful hearts. The first who ar
am as far from all sight of humanity as rive are from the hotel, mostly silken suf
before ! Should the whole nation be ferers. They stand, glass in hand, chat
swarming below the mountain , arinies ting and laughing ,—they stoop to dip , —
drawn up before armies, with my eyes and then they drink . These persons
resting upon them , I should not see them , soon return to the house in groups,
but sit here in sublime peace. Man's some gayly exchanging merry worils or
puny form were from this height as undis- kindly greetings, but others dragging
tinguishable as the blades of grass in the weary limbs and discontented spirits back
meadows below . I know , that, if all the to loneliness.
world stood beneath , and strained their The fashionable hour is over , and now
vision to the utmost upon the very spot comes another class of health -seckers .
where I stand , I should still be in the A rough, white-covered wagon jolts up.
strict privacy of invisibility. This isola- The horse is tied to a post, a curtain un
tion I pine for. But I can never, never buttoned and raised , and from a bed
feel it - out of a dream . upon the uneasy floor a pale, delicate
You guess rightly. I am in a repining boy, shrinking from the light, is lifted by
mood, and must pour out all my griev- his burly father. The child is carried to
ances. I feel my helplessness cruelly. the spring, and puts out a groping hand
But I must forget myself aa little while, when his father bids him drink. He
and describe these Springs to you, with cannot find the glass, and his father must
the company here assembled , -only twen- put it to his lips. He is blind, except to
ty or thirty people. The house is a good light, —and that only visits those poor
enough one ; the country yet very wild . sightless eyes to agonize them ! Where
My couch is daily wheeled to a shady the water flows off below the basin in a
porch which looks down the avenue of clear jet, the father bathes his boy's fore
trees leading to the spring, a white head, and gently, gently touches his eye
marble basin, bubbling over with bright lids. But the child reaches out his wast
water. ed hands, and dashes the water against
Gay parties, young ladies with lovers, his face with a sad eagerness.
happy mammas with their children , fa- Other country vehicles approach. The
thers with their clinging daughters, pass people are stopping to drink of this wa
me,-and I, motionless, follow them with ter, on their way to drink of the waters
my eyes down the avenue, until they of life in church . They are smart and
emerge into the sunlight about the spring smiling in their Sunday clothes. I ob
Many of them give me a kindly greeting; serve , that, far from being the old or dis
some stop to stare. The look of pity eased, they are mostly young men and
which saddens nearly every face that pretty girls. The marble spring is a
approaches me cuts me to the heart charming trysting-place !
Can I never give joy, or excite pleasur- There are swarms of children here all
660 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
day long. This is the first time since I wide open , and she said, eagerly, “ Oh,
left Kate's apron -string at seven years yes ! that's what I came for. "
old, that I have seen much of children. “ Did you ? Well, what shall it be
Boys, to be sure , I was with until I left about ? ”
college ; but the hotel- life I afterwards “ Why, about yourself,—the prince who
66

led kept me quite out of the way of was half marble , and couldn't get up.
youngsters. Now, I am much amused And I want to see your black marble
at the funny little world that opens legs, please ! "
before my notice. They flirt like grown- If I had hugged an electrical cel, I
up people ! I heard a little chit of six could not have been more shocked ! I
say to a youth of five, don't know how I replied, or what be
" How dare you ask me to go to the came of the child. I was conscious only
spring with you, when you've been and of a kind of bitter horror, and almost
asked Ellen already ? I don't have to affright. But when Kate, a quarter of
put up with half a gentleman ! " an hour afterwards, brought her book
A flashy would -be lady, bustling up to and sat down beside me, I could not tell
the spring with her little daughter, burst her about it, for laughing.
into aa loud laugh at the remark of an The little girl is in sight now. She is
acquaintance. standing near the porch, talking to some
“ Mamma ! ” said Miss, tempering se-other children , gesticulating, and shaking
verity with benign dignity,—" you must her curls. Probably she was a deputy
not laugh so loud. It's vulgar.” from them, to obtain a solution of the
Her mother lowered her tone, and mystery of my motionless limbs. They
looked subdued . Miss turned to a com- half believe I am the veritable Prince
panion, and said, gravely , of the Black Isles ! They alternately
“ I have to speak to her about that, listen to her and turn to stare at me ;
often. She don't like it, but I must so I know that I am the subject of their
correct her ! ” confab .
A little girl- a charming, old -fashioned, Some one is passing them now , -a
real child—came into the summer-house lady. She pauses to listen . She, too ,
a few minutes ago, and I gave up my glances this way with a sad smile. She
writing to watch her. After some coy comes slowly down the avenue. A
manæuvring about the door, she drew graceful, queenly form , and lovely face !
nearer and nearer to me, as if I were a She has drunk of the waters, and is
snake fascinating a pretty bird . Her gone.
tongue seemed more bashful than the Mary, do you know that gentle girl
rest of her frame; for she came within has added the last drop of bitterness to
arm's -length, let me catch her, draw her my cup ? My lot has become unbear
to me, and hold her close to my side. able. I gnash my tecth with impotent
A novel sensation of fondness for the rage and despair.
little thing made me venture - not with- I will not be the wreck I am ! My
out some timidity, I confess - to lay my awakening manhood scorns the thought
hand upon her head , and pass it caress of being forever a helpless burden to
ingly over her soft young cheek, mean- others. I demand my health , and all
while saying encouraging things to her, my rights and privileges as a man ,—to
in hopes of hearing her voice and mak- work , —to support others, —to bear the
ing her acquaintance. She would not burden and heat of the day ! Never
speak, but played with my buttons, and again can I be content in my easy couch
hung her head. At last I asked, and my sister's shady grove!
· Don't you want me to tell you a lit- Ah, Dr. G., you have indeed roused
tle story ? " me from apathy ! I am in torture, and
Her head flew up, her great black eyes Heaven only knows whether on this
1858.] My Journal to my Cousin Mary. 661

side of the grave I shall ever find peace marble, for all the feeling I have had in
again ! them . Now I begin to be sensible of a
Poor Kate reads my heart, and weeps wearisome numbness and aching, which
daily in secret. Brave Kate, who shed would be bard to bear, if it were not
so few tears over her own grief ! that it gives me the expectation of re
turning animation. Do you think I may
VII. expect it, and that I am not quite delud
ing myself ?
C - Springs. August.
I so continually speak of my illness, August 14.
Mary, that I fear you have good right to So I wrote two days ago, Mary, and I
think me that worst kind of bore, a hy- was right! That was returning sensa
pochondriac. But something is now go tion and motion . I can now move my
ing on with me that raises all my hopes feet. I cannot yet stand, or walk, or
and fears. I dare not speak of it to help myself, any more than before; but
Kate, lest she should be too sanguine, I can, by a voluntary effort, more.
and be doomed to suffer again the crush Rejoice with me ! I am a happy fel
of all her hopes. low this day ! Dazzling daylight is peep
I really feel that I could not survive ing through this sma' hole ! Remember
disappointment, should I ever entertain what I wrote of a certain lady ;-and Ben
positive hope of cure . Neither can I has hunted me up a law -book, which I
endure this suspense without asking some am devouring. My profession, and oth
one's opinion. There is no medical man er blessings, again almost within grasp !
here in whom I have any confidence, This is wildness, hope run riot, I know ;
and so I go to you, as a child does to its but let me indulge to-day, for it is this
mother in its troubles, not knowing what day which has set me free. I never vol
she can do for it, but relying upon her to untarily stirred before since the accident,
do something. -I mean my lower limbs, of course . Af
I will explain what it is that excites ter writing a sentence, I look down at
me to such an agony of dread and ex- my feet, moving them this way and that,
pectation. When the little girl asked to make sure that I am not stricken
me to let her see my marble limbs, sup- again.
posing me the Prince of the Black Isles, The day I began this letter I had
she sprang forward in the eagerness of proof that I had not merely fancied
childish curiosity, and touched my knee movement, when the little girl startled
with her hand. I was so amazed at this me . A clumsy boy stumbled over my
glimpse into her mind, that for some time couch, and I shrank, visibly, from receiv
I only tingled with astonishment. But ing upon my feet the pitcher of water
while I was telling Kate about it, it all
he was carrying. I was in the porch.
came back to me again,,her stunning The beautiful girl who formerly made
words, her eager spring, her prompt my affliction so bitter to me was passing
grasp of my knee , -and I remembered at the moment, with her arm drawn af
that I had involuntarily started away fectionately through her father's. She
from her childish hand, that is, moved saw the stumble, and sprang forward
my motionless limb ! with a cry of alarm . It looked , certain
I tried to do it again, but was im- ly, as if my defenceless feet must receive
possible. Still I could not help thinking the crash, and I attempted instinctively
that I had done it once, under the in- to withdraw them ,-partially succeeding !
fluence of that electrical shock . I saw this at the same time that I heard
Then I have another source of hope. the sweetest words that ever fell into my
I have never suffered any pain in my heart, in the most joyful, self-forgetful
liinbs, and they might have been really tones of the sweetest voice !
662 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
“ Oh,father! He moved ! He moved ! ” head could do that, perhaps; but mine is
Mr. Winston turned to me with con- more giddy, and I am afraid I shall spill
gratulations, shaking my hand with some drops from my full cup of joy by
warmth ; and then his daughter extend- too rash advancing .
ed hers,-cordially ! Of course my bap- Kate is not so wild with delight as I
piness was brimming ! am . She still forbids herself to exult.
I afterwards tried repeatedly to put Probably she dares not give way to un
my feet in motion . I could not do it. bounded hope, remembering the bitter
I could not think how to begin,—what ness of her former trial, and dreading its
power to bring to bear upon them . This recurrence .
She says it makes her trem
annoyed me beyond measure, and I ble to see my utter abandonment to joy
spent yesterday in wearisoine effort to ful dreams.
no purpose. My thinking, willing mind
was of no use to me ; but instinctive feel August 20.
ing, and a chapter of accidents, have It is Kate's fault that you have not re
brought me to my present state of ac- ceived this letter before now. She kept
tivity. A wish to change an uncomfort it to say a few words to you about my
able position in which Ben left me this recovery , but has at last yielded to me
morning restored me to voluntary action. the pleasure of telling of something far
I tried to turn away from the sun-glare, more interesting, which has occurred
using my elbows, as usual, for motors. since, —not more interesting to me, but
To my surprise, I found myself assisting probably so to any one else.
ith my feet,-and by force of I per One evening, Kate went, with every
sisted in the effort, and continued the body from the house, to see the sunset
action. Having got the clue to the mys- from the hills above this glen , and I lay
tery , I have now only to will and alone in the back porch, in the twi
execute . My rebellious members are light. A light wagon drove up, and in
brought into subjection ! I am king of two minutes a little lady had run to me,
myself! Hurrah ! thrown herself upon her knees beside
Good -bye, dearest friend. I shake my me, and pressed her sweet lips to my
foot to you , -an action more expressive forehead . It was our darling little Alice
of joyful good -will than my best bow . Wellspring
I hope my return to health will not Immediately following her came Mr.
cost me dear. I begin to fear losing the Ryerson, in a perfect ecstasy of laughter,
sympathy and affection of those I have and blushing
learned to love so dearly, and who have “ We've run away ! " whispered she.
cherished me in their hearts simply be- “ And got married this morning !” said
cause of my infirmities. When I am a he .
vigorous man , will you care for me ? * But where was the necessity of elope
will Kate centre her life in me ? will ment ?” I asked , bewildered ,-Kate hav
Miss Adla Winston look at me so often ing told me that Alice's aunt was doing
6
and so gently ? her best to “catch Ryerson for her
Well, don't laugh at me for my grasp- niece,” she having had certain informa
ing disposition ! Affection is very grate tion upon that point from a near rela
ful to me, and I should be sorry to do tive.
withont it, after having libed in a loving “ Ha, ha, ha !” laughed he, slapping
atmosphere so long. his knees in intense enjoyment, as he sat
I believe Ben is as proud of me as he in his old place by my feet. “ It is a
was of his Shanghai, but he has a prov- practical joke, - one, that will have in
erb which he quotes whenever he sees itwhat somebodycalls the first element
me much clated : " When the cup's fu', of wit, -surprise. A more astonished
carry't even . " His own cautious Scotch and mystified old lady than she will be
1858. ] 663
My Journal to my Cousin Mary.
would be hard to find ! She was so will shouldn't be a wet blanket to a fellow !
ing ! ” When he is trying to be entertaining,
“ Don't say anything against Aunt, you might help him out, instead of ex
Harry. I'm safe from her now, and so tinguishing him ! Laugh just a little to
are you . She wanted such an ostenta- set folks going, and make moral reflec
tious wedding, Charlie, that I did not tions afterwards, for the benefit of the
like it, and Harry declared positively children .”
that he would not submit to it. So I had “ You know , Harry, I can't make re
just to go off quietly, and come here to flections ! ”
Kate anıl you, my best friends in the “No more you can ,—ha ! ha ! If you
world, except Walter. After you know could, there would be the Devil to pay
Harry, you won't blame me.” in curtain lectures, wouldn't there ? ”
66
It was very rash of the child, but · Again, Harry ! "
really I cannot blame her, as I should, “Pshaw, now, Allie, don't be hard upon
if she had chosen any one else. Ryer- me ! That was a very little swear - for
son is one who shows in his face and the occasion ! "
in every word and action that he is .a She will refine him in time.
kind and noble fellow . Ryerson has infused new spirit into
Kate, to my surprise, is enchanted this stiff place. The very day he came,
with this performance. It chimes with I observed that various persons, who had
her independent notions, but not with held aloof from all others, drew near to
my prudent ones. However, it is done, him . The fellow seems the soul of ge
and I never saw a more satisfactorily niality, and everybody likes him ,-from
mated couple. It would have been a old man to baby. The young girls gather
cruel pity to see that light, good little round him for chat and repartec, —the
heart quelled by a morose husband, or young men are always calling to him to
its timidity frightened into deceitfulness come boating, or gunning, or riding
by a severe one. Now she is as fearless with them , —the old gentlemen go to
and courageous as a pet canary . him with their politics, and the old ladies
Ryerson has one grievous fault; he with their aches. Young America calls
uses all sorts of slang phrases. It makes him a "regular brick ,” for he lends him
his conversation very funny, but Alice self to build up everybody's gool-humor.
don't like it, especially when he ap- He is erything to me. Before he
proaches the profane. came, Mr. Winston was almost my only
He told a very good story the other visitor, though other gentlemen occasion.
day, spiced a little in language. Every- ally sat with me a few minutes. But
body laughed outright. Alice looked now everybody flocks to my couch, be
grave. cause Harry's head -quarters are there.
“ What is the matter, wifey ? ” he He has broken down the shyness my un
called out, anxiously ; for with him there fortunate situation maintained between
is no reserve before strangers. He me and others. His cheery “ Well,
seems to think the whole world kin , how are you to-day, old fellow ? ” sets
and himself always the centre of an at- everybody at ease with me. The ladies
tached and indulgent family. have come out from their pitying reserve.
66
“ How could you say those bad words, A glass of fresh water from the spring, a
with a child in the room ? " she said, re- leaf-full of wild berries, a freshly pulled
proachtully, -pointing to my little black- rose, and other little daily attentions,
eyed friend . cheer me into fresh admiration of them
66
“ I only said, “ The Devil,'— that's all ! " all in general, and one in particular ,"
But now I remember, - if a story is as Ryerson says.
ever so good, and the Devil ' gets into Perhaps you think -- I judge so from :
it, it's no go with you ! But, Allie, you your letter -- that I ought to describe
664 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
Miss Winston to you. She is finely- “ Well, he had some engineering to
Ah, I find that she is wrapped in some do in Russia, you know . They wanted
mysterious, ethereal veil, the folds of to get him to undertake another job ,-I
which I dare not disturb, even with don't know , nor care, what it was, -and
reverent hand, and for your sake ! Ah, be went out to see about it. For Char
Mary, I aspire ! lie's sake, you let him go away almost in
despair, you cruel girl! Well, when I
VIII. was visiting you, he made a little spy of
me . I was not to spy you, Kate, but
- Springs. September. Charlie here, and let Walter know of
The autumn scenery is gorgeous up the slightest change for the better in him .
among these misty hills, but I will not Then he was to get some one to attend
dwell upon it. I have too much to say to his Russian work, and post right
of animated human nature, to more than straight home to you, Kate ! Well, my
glance out of doors. Nearly all the aunt wouldn't let me stay with you ,
boarders are gone . Miss Winston left cross old thing ! And she kept me so
last week for her home in Boston. I am very close, that I couldn't watch Charlie
desolate indeed ! The day after she at all. Then she went and threatened
went away, I stood upon my own feet me with a long engagement with Harry,
without support, for the first time. Now only to give me time to get heaps and
I walk daily from the house to the spring, heaps of sewing done ! I knew the only
with the help of Kate's or Ben's arın chance I could get of gaining informa
and a cane, though I am still obliged to tion for Walter was just to run off to
remain on iny couch nearly all day long. you with Hal, and cut a long matter
I write this in direct reply to your ques short. Well, so I came, and I wrote to
tion . Walter, the very night I arrived, that the
Now for the great exciting subject of doctor said, Charlie , that you would be
the present time. I will give it in detail, quite well in a month or two ! That was
as women like to have stories told . a month ago. But Walter had not wait
The little wife, our Alice, came run- ed for me. Perhaps he had other spies.
ning into Kate's parlor one day, while At any rate "
we were both sitting there reading. She She paused .
was in extreme excitement We heard “ What ? what ? Be quick ! ” cried I,
her laughing, just outside the door, in the seeing that Kate was almost fainting from
most joyous manner ; but she pulled a this suspense.
long face as she entered. She sank “ He has come ! "
down upon the floor by my couch, so as Kate pressed her hand over the joy
to be on a level with me, took my hand ful crythat burst from her lips, and, turn
and Kate's, and then , taking breath, said : ing away from us, sprang up, and walked
Listen, Kate, and don't be agitated ." to the window. There was a moment
Kate was, of course, extremely agi- of perfect silence. Kate put her hand
tated at once. She divined the subject behind her, and motioned to the door.
about to be introduced, and her heart Alice went softly out and closed it. I
beat tumultuously . could not rise, poor cripple, from intense
“ You remember I nearly betrayed agitation.
Walter's secret once ? Well, I am going My sister drew one long, quivering,
to tell it to you now, really." sobbing breath ,—and then she had a
" He gave you leave, then !” said Kate, good cry, as women say. It seemed to
almost breathless. me enough to give one a headache for a
“ Yes, yes ! This is it -Now, Kate, week, but it refreshed her. After bath
if you look so pale, I can't go on ! ” ing her eyes with some iced water, she
I motioned to her to proceed at once. came and leaned over me.
1858.] My Journal to my cousin Mary. 665

“ Thank God, Kate," I said , “ for your for her conduct has made Walter almost
sake and mine ! ” worship her. I am happy to think I
“ Can you spare me, after you are well have brought her good, rather than ill ;
again, Charlie , -if he ” . but - selfish being that I am -I am not
« Am I a monster of selfishness and contented . I have a sigh in my heart
ingratitude ? " yet !
She kissed me, took up her work , and
sat down to sew . Bosky Dell. December.
“ Kate ! ” said I, amazed, “ what are How it happened that this letter did
you doing ? Why don't you go down ? ” not go I cannot imagine. I have just
“ What for ? To hunt him up at the found it in Kate's work - basket; and I
bar-keeper's desk ? or in the stables, per- open it again, to add the grand climax.
haps ? " I have been so very minute in my ac
“ Oh ! Ah ! Propriety,-yes! But counts of Kate's love-affairs, that I feel it
how you can sit there and wait I cannot would not be fair to slur over mine. So,
conceive." dear friend, I open my heart to you in
There came a knock. I expected her this wise.
to start up in rapture and admit Mr. The rage for recovery which took such
Walter She only said , “ Come violent possession of me I believe effect
in !” — calmly . ed my cure . In a month from the time
Alice peeped in, and asked , “ May he I began to walk, I could go alone, with
come ? " out even a cane . Kate entreated me to
" Where is he ? " I asked . remain as long as possible in the moun
“ In the parlor, waiting to know." tains, as she believed my recovery was
“ Yes," said Kate, changing color rap- attributable to the pure air and healing
idly. waters. It was consequently the first of
Stop, stop, Alice ! You two give me this month before we arrived at her cot
each a hand, and help me into my room .” tage, where we found good old Saide so
“ Charlie,” said Kate, “ you need not much “ frustrated ” by delight as to be
go! you must not go ! ” quite unable to “ Aly roun?” Indeed, she
“ Ah, my dear sister, I have stood be could hardly stand. When I walked up
tween you and him long enough. I will to shake hands with her, she bashfully
do to him as I would be done by. Come, looked at me out of the “ tail of her eye,”
girls, your hands ! ” as Ben says. Her delicacy was quite
They placed me in my easy-chair, shocked by my size ! 9
both kissed me with agitated lips, and left “ Saide,” said I, “ you positively look
me .
Half an hour afterwards Kate and pale ! " She really did. You have seen
Mr. petitioned for admittance to negroes do so , haven't you ?
my room . Of course I granted it, and “ Laws, Missr Charles,” she answered,
immediately proceeded to aa minute scru- with a coquettish and deprecating twist,
tiny of my future brother-in -law . He is “ call dat 'ere stove pale,—will yer ? ”
a fine fellow , very scientific, clear in No sooner was Kate established at
thought, decisive in action, quite reserved,
home, and I in my Walnut-Street office,
and very good -looking. This reserve is than I undertook a trip to Boston . As I
to Kate his strongest attraction , - her approached Miss Winston's home, all my
own nature being so entirely destitute of courage left me. I walked up and down
it, and she so painfully conscious of her the Common, in sight of her door, for
want of self-control. Yes,-be is just the hours, thinking what aa witless fool I was,
one Kate would most respect, of all the to contemplate presenting my penniless
men I ever saw. self — with hope - before the millionnaire's
Is not this happiness, — to find her daughter !
future not wrecked, but blessed doubly ? At last Mr. Winston came home to
666 My Journal to my Cousin Mary. [ April,
dinner and began to go up the steps. I brotherless, and I am an old man. Noth
sprang across the street to him, and my ing would give me more pleasure ; for I
courage came back when I looked upon know you well enough to trust her with
his good sensible face. When he recog- you. There ,-go in. I hear her touch
nized me, he seized my hand, grasped the piano .”
my shoulder, and gave me, with the tears He went up stairs. I entered. My
actually in his eyes, a reception that hon- eyes swept the long, dim apartment. In
ors human nature. the confusion of profuse luxury I could
Such genuine friendliness, in an old, not distinguish anything at first,—but
distinguished man, to a young fellow like soon saw the grand piano at the extreme
me, shows that man's heart is noble, with end of the rooms. I impetuously strode
all its depravity. the whole length of the two parlors, –
When he had gazed some time, almost and she rose before me with chilling dig
in amazement, at my tall proportions, (he nity !
never saw them perpendicular before, Ah, Mary, that moment's blank dis
you know , he said , - may! But it was because she thought
“ Come in, come in, my boy ! Some me some bold , intruding stranger. When
one else must see you ! But she can't she saw my face, she came to me, and
be more glad than I am, to see you so gave me both her hands, saying, -
well, —that is, I don't see how she can ,- “ Mr. — ! Is it possible ? I am
for I am glad, I am glad, my boy !” bappy that you are so well ! ”
Was not this heart-warming ? It was genuine joy ; and for a mo
When we entered , he stopped before ment we were both simply glad for that
the bat-rack, and told me “ just to walk one reason ,—that I was well.
into the parlor ;-his daughter might be “ You seem so tall ! ” she said , with a
there. ” I could not rush in impetuously . rather more conscious tone. She began
I had to steady my color. Besides, ought to infer what my recovery and presence
I not to speak to him first ? imported to her. I felt thrilling all over
Mr. Winston took off his hat, -hung it me what they were to me !
up ; then his overcoat, and hung it up. I But I must say something. It is not
still stood pondering, with my hand upon customary to call upon young ladies, of
the door-knob. Surprised at my tardi- whom you have never dared to consid
ness in entering, he turned and looked er yourself other than an acquaintance
at me. I could not face him. He was merely, and hold their hands while you
silent a minute. I felt that he looked listen to their hearts beating. This I
right through me, and saw my daring in- must refrain from doing,—and that in
tentions. He cleared his throat. I quail- stantly.
ed. He began to speak in a low, agi- “ Yes,” I stammered, “ I am well, I
tated voice, that I thought very ominous am quite well. ” Then, losing all remem
in tone. brance of etiquette But you must di
“ You want to speak to me, perhaps. vine what followed. Truly
I think I see that you do. If so , speak “ God's gifts put man's best dreams to
now. A word will explain enough. No shame !
need to defer.”
“ I want your consent, Sir, to speak to P. S.-Kate will send you her cards,
your daughter,” I stammered out. and Ada ours, together with the proper
“ My dear boy ,” said he, clapping me ceremonious invitations to the weddings,
on the shoulder, “ she is motherless and as soon as things are arranged .
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 667

AMOURS DE VOYAGE.

[ Continued.)

NII.

Yet to the wondrous St. Peter's, and yet to the solemn Rotonda,
Mingling with heroes and gods, yet to the Vatican walls,
Yet may we go, and recline, while a whole mighty world seems above us
Gathered and fixed to all time into one roofing supreme;
Yet may we, thinking on these things, exclude what is meaner around us ;
Yet, at the worst of the worst, books and a chamber remain ;
Yet may we think, and forget, and possess our souls in resistance.
Ah, but away from the stir, shouting, and gossip of war,
Where, upon Apennine slope, with the chestnut the oak -trees immingle,
Where amid odorous copse bridle-paths wander and wind,
Where under mulberry-branches the diligent rivulet sparkles,
Or amid cotton and maize peasants their waterworks ply,
Where, over fig-tree and orange in tier upon tier still repeated,
2

Garden on garden upreared, bakonies step to the sky,

Ah, that I were, far away from the crowd and the streets of the city,
Under the vine-trellis laid, O my beloved, with thee !

I. — MARY TREVELLYN TO Miss ROPER, — on the way to Florence.

Wuy doesn't Mr. Claude come with us ? you ask . - We don't know.
You should know better than we. He talked of the Vatican marbles ;
But I can't wholly believe that this was the actual reason ,
He was so ready before, when we asked him to come and escort us.
Certainly he is odd, my dear Miss Roper. To change so
Suddenly, just for a whim, was not quite fair to the party ,
Not quite right. I declare, I really am almost offended :
I, his great friend, as you say, have doubtless aa title to be so .
Not that I greatly regret it, for dear Georgina distinctly
Wishes for nothing so much as to show her adroitness. But, oh, my
Pen will not write any more ;–let us say nothing further about it.
*

Yes, my dear Miss Roper, I certainly called him repulsive ;

So I think him , but cannot be sure I have used the expression
Quite as your pupil should ; yet he does most truly repel me.
Was it to you I made use of the word ? or who was it told you ?
Yes, repulsive ; observe, it is but when he talks of ideas,
That he is quite unaffected, and free, and expansive, and easy ;
I could pronounce him simply a cold intellectual being.
When does he make advances ?-Ile thinks that women should woo him ;
Yet, if a girl should do so , would be but alarmed and disgusted.
She that should love himn must look for small love in return,—like the ivy
On the stone wall, must expect but a rigid and niggard support, and
E'en to get that must go searching all round with her humble embraces.
668 Amours de Voyage. [ April,

II. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE,from

- Rome.
Tell me, my friend, do you think that the grain would sprout in the furrow ,
Did it not truly accept as its summum et ultimum bonum
That mere common and may-be indifferent soil it is set in ?
Would it have force to develope and open its young cotyledons,
Could it compare , and reflect, and examine one thing with another ?
Would it endure to accomplish the round of its natural functions,
Were it endowed with a sense of the general scheme of existence ?
While from Marseilles in the steamer we voyaged to Civita Vecchia,
Vexed in the squally seas as we lay by Capraja and Elba,
Standing, uplifted , alone on the heaving poop of the vessel,
Looking around on the waste of the rushing incurious billows,
“ This is Nature ,” I said : “ we are born as it were from her waters,
Over her billows that buffet and beat us, her offspring uncared -for,
Casting one single regard of a painful victorious knowledge,
Into her billows that buffet and beat us we sink and are swallowed .”
This was the sense in my soul, as I swayed with the poop of the steamer ;
And as unthinking I sat in the hall of the famed Ariadne,
Lo, it looked at me there from the face of a Triton in marble.
It is the simpler thought, and I can believe it the truer.
Let us not talk of growth ; we are still in our Aqueous Ages.

III . - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

FAREWELL, Politics, utterly ! What can I do ? I cannot
Fight, you know ; and to talk I am wholly ashamed. And although I
Gnash my teeth when I look in your French or your English papers,
What is the good of that ? Will swearing, I wonder, mend matters ?
Cursing and scolding repel the assailants ? No, it is idle ; .
No, whatever befalls, I will hide , will ignore or forget it.
Let the tail shift for itself; I will bury my head . And what's the
Roman Republic to me , or I to the Roman Republic ?
Why not fight ?—In the first place, I haven't so much as a musket.
In the next, if I had, I shouldn't know how I should use it.
In the third, just at present I'm studying ancient marbles.
In the fourth , I consider I owe my life to my country.
In the fifth ,—I forget; but four good reasons are ample.
Meantime, pray , let 'em fight, and be killed. I delight in devotion.
So that I 'list not, hurrah for the glorious army of martyrs !
Sanguis martyrum semen Ecclesiæ ; though it would seem this
Church is indeed of the purely Invisible, Kingdom -Come kind :
Militant here on earth ! Triumphant, of course, then, elsewhere !
Ah, good Heaven, but I would I were out far away from the pother !

IV. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Not, as we read in the words of the olden-time inspiration,
Are there two several trees in the place we are set to abide in ;
But on the apex most high of the Tree of Life in the Garden,
Budding, unfolding, and falling, decaying and flowering ever,
Flowering is set and decaying the transient blossom of Knowledge, -
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 669

Flowering alone, and decaying, the needless, unfruitful blossom .

Or as the cypress -spires by the fair -flowing stream Hellespontine,
Which from the mythical tomb of the godlike Protesilaus
Rose, sympathetic in grief, to his lovelorn Laodamia,
Evermore growing, and, when in their growth to the prospect attaining,
Over the low sea-banks, of the fatal Ilian city,
Withering still at the sight which still they upgrew to encounter.
Ah, but ye that extrude from the ocean your helpless faces,
Ye over stormy seas leading long and dreary processions,
Ye, too , brood of the wind, whose coming is whence we discern not,
Making your nest on the wave, and your bed on,the crested billow,
Skimming rough waters, and crowding wet sands that the tide shall return to,
Cormorants, ducks, and gulls, fill ye my imagination !
Let us not talk of growth ; we are still in our Aqueous Ages.
V. – Mary TREVELLYN TO Miss ROPER , —from Florence.
DEAREST Miss ROPER, — Alas, we are all at Florence quite safe, and
-

You, we bear, are shut up ! indeed, it is sadly distressing !

We were most lucky, they say, to get off when we did from the troubles.
Now you are really besieged ! They tell us it soon will be over ;
Only I hope and trust without any fight in the city.
Do you see Mr. Claude ? – I thought he might do something for you.
I am quite sure on occasion he really would wish to be useful.
What is he doing ? I wonder ; -still studying Vatican marbles ?
Letters, I hope, pass through. We trust your brother is better.
V1. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
JUXTAPOSITION , in fine; and what is juxtaposition ?
Look you, we travel along in the railway-carriage, or steamer,
And, pour passer le temps, till the tedious journey be ended,
Lay aside paper or book, to talk with the girl that is next one ;
And, pour passer le temps, with the terminus all but in prospect,
Talk of eternal ties and marriages made in heaven.
Ah, did we really accept with a perfect heart the illusion !
Ah, did we really believe that the Present indeed is the Only !
Or through all transmutation, all shock and convulsion of passion,
Feel we could carry undimmed, unextinguished, the light of our knowledge !
1

But for his funeral train which the bridegroom sees in the distance,
Would he so joyfully, think you, fall in with the marriage-procession ?
But for that final discharge, would he dare to enlist in that service ?
But for that certain release, ever sign to that perilous contract ?
But for that exit secure, ever bend to that treacherous doorway ?
Ab, but the bride, meantime,—do you think she sees it as he does ?
But for the steady fore-sense of a freer and larger existence,
Think you that man could consent to be circumscribed here into action ?
But for assurance within of a limitless ocean divine , o'er
Whose great tranquil depths unconscious the wind-tost surface .
Breaks into ripples of trouble that come and change and endure not,
But that in this, of a truth, we have our being, and know it,
Think you we men could submit to live and move as we do here ?
Ah, but the women ,—God bless them !—they don't think at all about it.
670 Amours de Voyage. [ April,
Yet we must eat and drink, as you say. And as limited beings
Scarcely can hope to attain upon earth to an Actual Abstract,
Leaving to God contemplation, to His hands knowledge confiding,
Sure that in us if it perish, in Him it abideth and dies not,
Let us in His sight accomplish our petty particular doings ,
Yes, and contented sit down to the victual that He has provided.
Allah is great, no doubt, and Juxtaposition his prophet.
Ah, but the women, alas, they don't look at it in that way !
Juxtaposition is great ;—but, my friend, I fear me, the maiden
Hardly would thank or acknowledge the lover that sought to obtain her,
Not as the thing he would wish, but the thing he must even put up with, –
Hardly would tender her liand to the wooer that candidly told her
That she is but for a space, an ad-interim solace and pleasure, -
That in the end she shall yield to a perfect and absolute something,
Which I then for myself shall behold, and not another ,
Which, amid fondest endearments, ineantime I forget not, forsake not.
Ah, ye feminine souls, so loving and so exacting,
Since we cannot escape, must we even subunit to deceive you ?
Since, so cruel is truth, sincerity shocks and revolts you,
Will you have us your slaves to lie to you, flatter and — leave you ?

VII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

JUXTAPOSITION is great,—but, you tell me, affinity greater.
Ah , my friend, there are many affinities, greater and lesser,
Stronger and weaker ; and cach, by the favor of juxtaposition ,
Potent, efficient, in force , —for aa time ; but none, let me tell you,
Save by the law of the land and the ruinous force of the will, alı,
None, I fear me, at last quite sure to be final and perfect.
Lo, as I pace in the street, from the peasant-girl to the princess,
Homo sum , nihil humani a me alienum puto ,
V'ir sum , nihil fæminei, —and c'en to the uttermost circle,
All that is Nature's is I, and I all things that are Nature's.
Yes, as I walk , I behold , in a luninous, large intuition, '
That I can be and become anything that I meet with or look at :
I am the ox in the dray, the ass with the garden -stuff panniers ;
I am the dog in the doorway, the kitten that plays in the window,
Here on the stones of the ruin the furtive and fugitive lizard ,
Swallow above me that twitters, and Ay that is buzzing about me ;
Yea, and detect, as I go, by a faint, but aa faithful assurance ,
E'en from the stones of the street, as from rocks or trees of the forest,
Something of kindred, a common , though latent vitality, greet me,
And, to escape from our strivings, mistakings, misgrowths, and perversions,
Fain could demand to return to that perfect and primitive silence,
Fain be enfolded and fixed , as of old, in their rigid embraces.

VIII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

And as I walk on my way, I behold them consorting and coupling;
Faithful it seemeth, and fond, very fond, very probably faithful;
And I proceed on my way with a pleasure sincere and unmingled.
Life is beautiful, Eustace, entrancing, enchanting to look at ;
1858.] Amours de l'oyage. 671

As are the streets of a city we pace while the carriage is changing,

As is aa chamber filled - in with harmonious, exquisite pictures,
Even so beautiful Earth ; and could we eliminate only
This vile hungering impulsc, this demon within us of craving,
Life were beatitude, living a perfect divine satisfaction .

IX.- CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Mild monastic faces in quiet collegiate cloisters :
So let me offer a single and celibatarian phrase a
Tribute to those whom perhaps you do not believe I can honor.
But, from the tumult escaping, ' tis pleasant, of drumming and shouting,
Hither, oblivious awhile, to withdraw, of the fact or the falsehood,
And amid placid regards and mildly courteous greetings
Yield to the calm and composure and gentle abstraction that reign o'er
Mild monastic faces in quiet collegiale cloisters.
Terrible word, Obligation ! You should not, Eustace, you should not,
No, you should not have used it. But, O great Heavens, I repel it !
Oh, I cancel, reject, disavow , and repudiate wholly
Every debt in this kind, disclaim every claim , and dishonor,
Yea, my own heart's own writing, my soul's own signature ! Ah, no !
I will be free in this; you shall not, none shall, bind me.
No, my friend, if you wish to be told, it was this above all things,
This that charmed me, ah, yes, even this, that she held me to nothing.
No, I could talk as I pleased ; come close ; fasten ties, as I fancied ;
Bind and engage myself deep ;-and lo, on the following morning
It was all e'en as before, like losings in games played for nothing.
Yes, when I came, with mean fears in my soul, with a semi-performance
At the first step breaking down in its pitiful rôle of evasion,
When to shuffle I came, to compromise, not meet, engagements,
Lo, with her calm eyes there she met me and knew nothing of it,
Stood unexpecting, unconscious. She spoke not of obligations,
Knew not of debt, -ah , no, I belicve you , for excellent reasons.

X. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
Haxg this thinking, at last ! what good is it ? oh, and what evil !
Oh, what mischief and pain ! like aa clock in aa sick man's chamber,
Ticking and ticking, and still through each covert of slumber pursuing.
What shall I do to thee, O thou Preserver of Men ? Have compassion !
Be favorable, and hear ! Take from me this regal knowledge !
Let me, contented and mute, with the beasts of the field , my brothers,
Tranquilly, happily lie , —and eat grass, like Nebuchadnezzar !

XI. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Tibur is beautiful, too, and the orchard slopes, and the Anio
Falling, falling yet, to the ancient lyrical cadence ;
Tibur and Anio's tide ; and cool from Lucretilis ever,
With the Digentian stream , and with the Bandusian fountain ,
Folded in Sabine recesses, the valley and villa of Horace :
So not seeing I sung ; so seeing and listening say I,
672 Amours de Voyage. [ April,
Here as I sit by the stream , as I gaze at the cell of the Sibyl,
Here with Albunca's home and the grove of Tiburnus beside me.
Tivoli beautiful is, and musical, O Teverone,
Dashing from niountain to plain , thy parted impetuous waters !
Tivoli's waters and rocks ; and fair under Monte Gennaro,
(Haunt even yet, I must think, as I wonder and gaze, of the shadows,
Faded and pale, yet immortal, of Faunus, the Nyınphs, and the Graces)
Fair in itself, and yet fairer with human completing creations,
Folded in Sabine recesses the valley and villa of Horace :
So not seeing I sung ; so now,—nor secing, nor hearing,
Neither by waterfall lulled, nor folded in sylvan embraces,
Neither by cell of the Sibyl, nor stepping the Monte Gennaro,
Seated on Anio's bank, nor sipping Bandusian waters,
But on Montorio's height, looking down on the tile -clad streets, the
Cupolas, crosses, and domes, the bushes and kitchen-gardens,
Which, by the grace of the Tiber, proclaim themselves Rome of the Romans ,
But on Montorio's height, looking forth to the vapory mountains,
Cheating the prisoner Ilope with illusions of vision and fancy,—
But on Montorio's height, with these weary soldiers by me,
Waiting till Oudinot enter, to reinstate Pope and Tourist.

XII. — MARY TREVELLYN To Miss ROPER.

Dear Miss Roper,- It seems, George Vernon , before we left Rome, said
Something to Mr. Claule about what they call his attentions.
Susan, two nights ago, for the first time, heard this froin Georgina.
It is so disagreeable, and so annoying, to think of !
If it could only be known, though we never may meet him again, that
It was all George's doing and we were entirely unconscious,
It would extremely relieve - Your ever affectionate Mary.
P. S. (1 ).
Here is your letter arrived this moment, just as I wanted.
So you have seen him,-indeed,—and guessed ,-- how dreadfully clever !
What did he really say ? and what was your answer exactly ?
Charming !—but wait for a moment, I have not read through the letter.
P. S. (2) .
Ah, my dearest Miss Roper, do just as you fancy about it.
If you think it sincerer to tell him I know of it, do so .
Though I should most extremely dislike it, I know I could manage.
It is the simplest thing, but surely wholly uncalled for.
Do as you please ; you know I trust implicitly to you.
Say whatever is right and needful for ending the matter.
Only don't tell Mr. Claude, what I will tell you as a secret,
That I should like very well to show him myself I forget it.
P. S. (3).
I am to say that the wedding is finally settled for Tuesday.
Ah, my dear Miss Roper, you surely, surely can manage
* - domus Albuneæ resonantis,
Et præceps Anio, et Tiburni lucus, et uda
Mobilibus pomaria rivis.
1858. ] Amours de Voyage. 673

Not to let it appear that I know of that odious matter.

It would be pleasanter far for myself to treat it exactly
As if it had not occurred ; and I do not think he would like it
I must remember to add, that as soon as the wedding is over
We shall be off, I believe, in a hurry, and travel to Milan ,
There to meet friends of Papa's, I am told , at the Croce di Malta ;
Then I cannot say whither, but not at present to England .

XIII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Yes, on Montorio's height for aa last farewell of the city ,
So it appears ; though then I was quite uncertain about it.
So, however, it was. And now to explain the proceeding.
I was to go, as I told you, I think, with the people to Florence .
Only the day before, the foolish family Vernon
Made some uneasy remarks, as we walked to our lodging together,
As to intentions, forsooth, and so forth . I was astounded ,
Horrified quite ; and obtaining just then , as it chanced, an offer
(No common favor) of seeing the great Ludovisi collection ,
Why, I made this a pretence, and wrote that they must excuse me.
How could I go ? Great Heaven ! to conduct a permitted flirtation
Under those vulgar eyes, the observed of such observers !
Well, but I now, by a series of fine diplomatic inquiries,
Find from a sort of relation, a good and sensible woman ,
Who is remaining at Rome with aа brother too ill for removal,
That it was wholly unsanctioned, unknown,-not, I think, by Georgina :
Shc, however, ere this,—and that is the best of the story , –
She and the Vernon, thank Heaven, are wedded and gone - honey-mooning.
So — on Montorio's height for a last farewell of the city.
Tibur I have not seen , nor the lakes that of old I had dreamt of;
Tibur I shall not see , nor Anio's waters, nor deep en
Folded in Sabine recesses the valley and villa of Horace ;
Tibur I shall not see ;-but something better I shall sec.
Twice I have tried before, and failed in getting the horses ;
Twice I have tried and failed : this time it shall not be a failure.

THEREFORE farewell, ye hills, and yc, ye envineyarıled ruins !

Therefore farewell, ye walls, palaces, pillars, and domes !
Therefore farewell, far seen, ye peaks of the mythic Albano,
Seen from Montorio's height, Tibur and Æsula's hills !
Ah, could we once, ere we go , could we stand, while, to ocean descending,
Sinks o'er the yellow dark plain slowly the yellow broail sun,
Stand, from the forest emerging at sunset, at once in the champaign,
Open, but studded with trees, chestnuts umbrageous and old,
E’en in those fair open fields that incurve to thy beautiful hollow ,
Nemi, imbedded in wood, Nemi, inurned in the hill! –
Therefore farewell, ye plains, and ye hills, and the City Eternal !
Therefore farewell! We depart, but to behold you again !
( To be continued. )
VOL. I. 43
 674 The Catacombs of Rome. [ April,

THE CATACOMBS OF ROME.

( Continued. )
Vix fama nota est, abditis
Quam plena sanctis Roma sit ;
Quam dives urbanum solum
Sacris sepulchris floreat.
PRUDENTIUS.

Mille vittoriose e chiare palme.

PETRARCH

II. is, indeed, one of the most curious to

The results of the investigations in the be found in the annals of the Church.
catacombs during the last three or four Legend and fact are strangely mingled
years have well rewarded the zeal of in it, and over it hangs a perplexing mist
their explorers. Since the great work of doubt, but not so dense as wholly to
of the French government was pub. conceal all certainty. It is a story of suf
lished, in 1851-55, very curious and fering, of piety, of enthusiasm, of super
important discoveries have been made, stition, and of science;-it connects itself
and many new minor facts brought in many points with the progress of cor
to light. The interest in the investiga- ruption in the Church, and it has been a
tions has becoine more general, and no favorite subject for Art in all ages. The
visit to Rome is now complete without a story is at last finished. Begun sixteen
visit to one at least of the catacombs. hundred years ago, it has just reached
Strangely enough, liowever, the Romans its last chapter. In order to understand
themselves, for the most part, feel less it, we must go back almost to its intro
concern in these new revelations of their duction.
underground city than the strangers who According to the legend of the Roman
come from year to year to make their Church, as preserved in the “ Acts of St.
pilgrimages to Rome. It is an old com- Cecilia ,” this young and beautiful saint
plaint, that the Romans care little for was martyred in the year of our Lord
their city. " Who are there to-day, " 230.* She had devoted herself to per
says Petrarch, in one of hisletters, “ more
ignorant of Roman things than the Ro- * The Acts of St. Cecilia are generally re
man citizens ? And nowhere is Rome gardeil by the best Roman Catholic authori
ties as apochryphal. They bear internal evi
less known than in Rome itself.” It is, dence of their want of correctness, and, in the
however, to the Cavaliere de Rossi, him condition in which they have come down to
self a Roman, that the most important us, the date of their compilation cannot be
of these discoveries are duc , —the result set before the beginning of the fifth century .
of his marvellous learning and sagacity, At the very outset two facts stand in open
and of his bard-working and unwearicd opposition to their statements. The martyr
dom of St. Cecilia is placed in the reign of
energy . The discovery of the ancient Alexander Severus, whose mildness of dis
entrance to the Catacombs of St. Callix position and whose liberality towards the
tus, and of the chapel within, where St. Christians are well authenticated. Again ,
Cecilia was originally buried, is a piece the prefect who condemns her to death, Tur
chius Almachius, bears a naine unknown to
of the very romance of Archæology. the profane historians of Rome. Many state
The whole history of St. Cecilia, the ments of not less difficulty to reconcile with
glorious Virgin Martyr and the Saint of fact occur in the course of the Acis. But, al.
Music , as connected with the catacombs, though their authority in particulars be thus
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome.
petual virginity, but her parents had in-
sisted upon marrying her to a youthful
and noble Roman, named Valerian . On
the night of her marriage, she succeeded
in so far prevailing upon her husband as
to induce him to visit the pope, Urban ,
who was lying concealed froin his perse-
cutors in the catacombs which were called
after and still bear the name of his prede-
cessor, Callistus,* on the Appian Way, should be beheaded. The executioner
about two miles from the present walls of struck her neck three times with his
the city. The young man was converted
to the Christian faith . The next day wit-
nessed the conversion of his brother, Ti-
burtius. Their lives soon gave evidence
of the change in their religion ; they were
brought before the prefect, and, refusing
to sacrifice to the heathen gods, were
condemned to death . Maximus, an offi-
cer of the prefect, was converted by the
young men on the way to execution.
They suffered death with constancy, and
Masimus soon underwent the same fate.
Nor was Cecilia long spared. The pre-
fect ordered that she should be put to
death in her own house, by being stified
destroyed, we see no reason for questioning
the reality of the chief erents upon which
they are founded . The date of the martyr-
dom of St. Cecilia may be wrong, the reports
of her conversations may be as fictitious as
the speeches ascribed by grave historians
to their heroes, the stories of her miracles
may have only that small basis of reality
which is to be found in the effects of super-
stition and excited imagination ,-but the es-
sential truth of the martyrdom of a young,
beautiful, and rich Roman girl, of her suffer-
ing and her serene faith , and of the venera-
tion and honor in which her memory was
held by those who had known her, may be
accepted without reserve . At least, it is cer-
tain , that as early as the beginning of the
fourth century the name of St. Cecilia was
reverenced in Rome , and that from that time
she has been one of the chief saints of the
Roman calendar.
* The Catacombs of St. Callixtus are
among the most important of the under-
ground ceineteries. They were begun before
the time of Callixtus, but were greatly en-
larged under his pontificate (A. D. 219–223 ).
Saint though he be, the character of Callix-
tus, if we may judge by the testimony of an-
other saint, Hippolytus, stood greatly in need
of purification. His story is an amusing il-
675
in the caldarium , or bot-air chamber
of her baths. The order was obeyed,
and Cecilia entered the place of death ;
but a heavenly air and cooling dews
filled the chamber, and the fire built up
around it produced no effect. For a
whole day and night the flames were
kept up, but the Saint was unbarmed.
Then Almachius sent an order that she
sword, and left her bleeding, but not
dead , upon the pavement of the bath
room . For three days she lived, attend
ed by faithful friends, whose hearts were
cheered by her courageous constancy ;
66
“ for she did not cease to comfort those
whom she had nurtured in the faith
of the Lord, and divided among them
everything which she had .” To Pope
Urban, who visited her as she lay dy
ing, she left in charge the poor whom
she had cared for, and her house, that
it might be consecrated as a church.
With this her lite ended.* Her wasted
body was reverently lifted , its position
lustration of the state of the Roman episco
pacy in those times. He had been a slave of
à rich Christian, Carpophorus. His master
set hiin up as a money -dealer in the Piscina
Publica, a inuch frequented quarter of the
city . The Christian brethren ( and widows
also are mentioned by Hippolytus) placed
their money's in his hands for safe -keeping,
his credit as the slave of Carpophorus being
good. He appropriated these deposits, ran
away to sea , was pursued, threw himself in
to the water, was rescued, brought back to
Roine, and coudemned to hard labor. Car
pophorus bailed himn out of the work house,
but he was a bad fellow , got into a riot in a
Jewish synagogue, and was sent to work in
the Sardinian mines. By cheating he got a
ticket of leave and returned to Roine. After
some years, he was placed in charge of the
cemetery by the bishop or pope, Zephyrinus,
and at his death, some time later, by skilful
intrigues he succeeded in obtaining the bish
opric itself. The cemetery is now called that
of Saint Callixtus, - and in the saint the
swindler is forgotten .
* The passage in the Acts of St. Cecilia
which led to her being esteered the patron
ess of music is perhaps the following, whicb
occurs in the description of the wedding cere
monies : “ Cantantibus organis, Cæcilia in
676 The Catacombs of Rome. [ April,
undisturbed, and laid in the attitude and according to popular tradition , rested in
clothing of life within a coffin of cypress- the catacombs of the Vatican , was now
wood. The linen cloths with which the transferred to the great basilica which
blood of the Martyr had been soaked up Constantine, despoiling for the purpose
were placed at her feet, with that care the tomb of Hadrian of its marbles,
that no precious drop should be lost,- -a erected over the entrance to the under
care , of which many evidences are afford- ground cemetery. So, too, the Basilica
ed in the catacombs. In the night, the cof- of St. Paul, on the way to Ostia, was
fin was carried out of the city secretly to built over his old grave ; and the Cat
the Cemetery of Callixtus, and there de- acombs of St. Agnes were marked by a
posited by Urban in a grave near to a beautiful church in honor of the Saint,
chamber destined for the graves of the built in part beneath the soil, that its
popes themselves. Here the “ Acts of St. pavement might be on a level with
Cecilia ” close, and , leaving her pure body the upper story of the catacombs and
to repose for centuries in its tomb hol- the faithful night enter them from the
lowed out of the rock, we trace the his- church.
tory of the catacombs during those cen- The older catacombs, whose narrow
turies in other sources and by other graves had been filled during the last
ways. quarter of the third century with the
The consequences of the conversion bodies of many new martyrs, were now
of Constantine exhibited themselves not less used for the purposes of burial, and
more in the internal character and spirit more for those of worship. New chap
of the Church than in its outward forms els were bollowed out in their walls ; new
and arrangements. The period of world- paintings adorned the brown rock ; the
ly prosperity succeeded speedily to a bodies of martyrs were often removed
period of severest suffering, and many from their original graves to new and
who had been exposed to the persecution more elaborate tombs ; the entrances to
of Diocletian now rejoiced in the impe- the cemeteries were no longer concealed,
rial favor shown to their religion. Such but new and ampler ones were made ;
contrasts in life are not favorable to the new stairways, lined with marble, led
growth of the finer spiritual qualities ; down to the streets beneath ; luminaria,
and the sunshine of state and court is or passages for light and air, were open
not that which is needed for quicken- ed from the surface of the ground to the
ing faith or developing simplicity and most frequented places ; and at almost
purity of heart. Churches above ground every entrance a church or an oratory
could now be frequented without risk, of more or less size was built, for the
and were the means by which the wealth shelter of those who might assemble to
and the piety of Christians were to be go down into the catacombs, and for the
displayed. The newly imperialized re- performance of the sacred services up
ligion must have its imperial temples, on ground hallowed by so many sacred
and the little dark chapels of the cata- memories. The worship of the saints
combs were exchanged for the vast and began to take form , at first, in simple ,
ornamental spaces of the new basilicas. natural, and pious ways, in the fourth
It was no longer needful that the dead century ; and as it grew stronger and
should be laid in the secret paths of stronger with the continually increasing
the rock, and the luxury of magnificent predominance of the material element in
Christian tombs began to rival that of the Roman Church , so the catacombs, the
the sepulchres of the earlier Romans. burial-places of the saints, were more
The body of St. Peter, which bad long, and more visited by those who desired
the protection or the intercession of their
corde suo soli Domino decantabat, dicens :
6 occupants. St. Jerome, who was born
Fiat cor meum et corpus meum immacula
tum , ut non confundar.' " about this time in Rome, [A. D. 331,]
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 677

has a curious passage concerning his own

а John III., [A. D. 560–574 ,] ordered that
experiences in the catacombs. He says : service should be performed at certain
“ When I was a boy at Rome, being in- underground shrines, and that candles
structed in liberal studies, I was accus and all else needful for this purpose
tomed , with others of the same age and should be furnished from the Basilica of
disposition, to go on Sundays to the St. John Lateran . Just at the close of the
tombs of the apostles and martyrs, and sixth century, Gregory the Great (590
often to go into the crypts, which, being 604 ] again appointed stations in the
duy out in the depths of the carth, have catacombs at which service should be
for walls, on either side of those who en- held on special days in the course of the
ter, the boilies of the buried ; and they year, and a curious illustration of the
are so dark , that the saying of the prophet veneration in which the relics of the
seems almost fulfilled, The living descend saints were then held is afforiled by a gift
into hell. " But as the chapels and sacred which he sent to Theodelinda, queen of
tombs in the catacombs became thus the Lombards. At this time the Lom
more and more resorted to as places for bards were laying all Italy waste. Their
worship, the number of burials within Arian zeal ranged them in religious hate
them was continually growing less ,—and against the Roman Church,—but Theo
the change in the spirit of the religion delinda was an orthodox believer, and
was marked by the change of character through her Gregory hoped to secure the
in the paintings and inscriptions on conversion of her husband and his sub
their walls. By the middle of the fifth jects. It was to her that he addressed
century the extension of the catacombs his famous Dialogues, filled with the most
had ceased, and nearly about the same marvellous stories of holy men and the
time the assemblies in them fell off. strangest notions of religion. Wishing
The desolation of the Campagna had al- to satisfy her pious desires, and to make
ready begun ; Rome had sunk rapidly ; her a very precious gift, he sent to
and the churches and burial-places within her many phials of oil taken from the
the walls afforded all the space that was lamps that were kept burning at the
needed for the assemblies of the living shrines of the martyrs in the catacombs.
or the dead . It was the custom of those who visited
When the Goths descended upon It- these shrines to dip handkerchiefs, or
aly, ravaging the country as they passed other bits of cloth, in the reservoirs of
over it, and sat down before Ronie, not oil, to which a sacred virtue was supposed
content with stripping the land, they to be imparted by the neighborhood of
forced their way into the catacombs, the saints; and even now may often be
searching for treasure, and seeking also, seen the places where the lamps were
it seems likely, for the bodies of the mar- kept lighted .*
tyrs, whom their imperfect creed did not But although the memory of those who
prevent them from honoring. After they had been buried within them was thus
retired, in the short breathing -space that preserved, the catacombs themselves and
was given to the unhappy city, various the churches at their entrances were fall
popes undertook to do something to re- ing more and more into decay. Shortly
store the catacombs,* — and one of them , after Gregory's death , Pope Boniface
* *
* An inscription set up by Vigilius, pope
from A. D. 538 to 555, and preserved by Gru Diruta Vigilius nam mox hæc Papa gemis
ter, contains the following lines : cens,
46 Hostibus expulsis, omne novavit opus."
Dum peritura Getæ posuissent castra sub
urbe, * The phials sent by Gregory to Queen
Moverunt sanctis bella nefanda prius, Theodelinda were accompanied by a list of
Istaque sacrilego verterunt corde sepulchra the shrines from which they were taken ;
Martyribus quondam rite sacrata piis . among them was that of St. Cecilia . The
 678 The Catacombs of Rome. [ April,
IV. illustrated his otherwise obscure pon- him to disturb dust that had rested so
tificate by seeking froin the mean and long in quiet. “ In the lapse of centu
dissolute Emperor Phocas the gift of ries,” he says, “ many cemeteries of the
the Pantheon for the purpose of conse- holy martyrs and confessors of Christ
crating it for a Christian church. The have been neglected and fallen to decay.
glorious temple of all the gods was now The impious Lombards utterly ruined
dedicated [A. D. 608, Sept. 15] to those them , — and now among the faithful
who had displaced them, the Virgin and themselves the old piety has been re
all the Martyrs. Its new name was S. placed by negligence, which has gone
Maria ad Martyres, —and in order to so far that even animals have been al
sanctify its precincts, the Pope brought lowed to enter them, and cattle have
into the city and placed under the altars been stalled within them . ” Still, al
of his new church twenty -eight wagon- though thus desecrated, the graves of
the martyrs continued to be an object
loads of bones, collected from the differ-
ent catacombs, and said to be those of of interest to the pilgrims, who, even in
these dangerous times, from year to year
martyrs. This is the first notice that has
been preserved of the practice that be- came to visit the holy places of Rome ;
came very general in later times of and itineraries, describing the localities of
transferring bodies and bones from their the catacombs and of the noted tombs
graves in the rock to new ones under the within them , prepared for the guidance
city churches. of such pilgrims, not later than the be
Little more is known of the history of ginning of the ninth century, have been
the catacombs during the next two cen- preserved to us, and have afforded essen
turies, but that for them it was a period tial and most important assistance in the
of desolation and desertion . The Lom- recent investigations.
bard hordes often ravaged and devas- About the same time, Pope Paschal I.
tated the Campagna up to the very gates [A. D. 817–824) greatly interested him
of the city, and descended into the un- self in searching in the catacombs for
derground passages of the cemeteries in such bodies of the saints as might yet re
search of treasure, of relics, and of shel- main in them , and in transferring these
ter. Paul III., about the middle of the relics to churches and monasteries with
eighth century, took many bones and in the city. A contemporary inscription,
much ashes from graves yet unrifled, and still preserved in the crypt of the ancient
distributed them to the churches. He church of St. Prassede, (a church which
has left a record of the motives that led all lovers of Roman legend and art take
document closes with the words, “ Quæ olea ing -lamps were substituted in the place of
sca temporibus Domini Gregorii Papæ ad those that stood around. But that the peo
duxit Johannes indignus et peccator Dominæ ple might not be deprived of the trust which
Theodelindæ reginæ de Roma." The oils are they reposed in the holy oil , bits of cotton
still preserved in the treasury of the cathe dipped in it were wrapped up in paper, and
dral at Monza, and the list accompanying there was a constant demand for them among
them has afforded some important facts to the the devout.” This passage refers to late
students of the early martyrology of Rome. A years, and the custom still exists. Supersti
similar belief in the efficacy of oils burned in tion flourishes at Rome now not less than it
lamps before noted images, or at noted shrines, did thirteen hundred years ago ; and super
still prevails in the Papal City. In a little stitious practices have a wonderful vitality in
pamphlet lying before us, entitled Historic the close air of Romanism.
Notices of Varia SSma del Parto, venerated * Four of these itineraries are known.
in St. Augustine's Church in Rome, pub One of them is preserved in William of
lished in 1853, is the following passage : Malmesbury's Chronicle. The differences and
“ Many who visited Mary dipped their fingers the correspondences between them have been
in the lamps to cross themselves with the of almost equal assistance in modern days in
holy oil, by the droppings from which the the determination of doubtful names and lo
base of the statue was so dirtied, that hang calities.
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 679

delight in,) tells of the two thousand three him, said, — “ We return thee many
hundred martyrs whose remains Paschal thanks ; but why without cause, trust
had placed beneath its altars. Nor was ing to false reports, hast thou given up
this the only church so richly endowed. the search for me ? Thou hast been
One day, in the year 821 , Paschal so near me that we might have spoken
was praying in the church that stood together.”
on the site of the house in which St. Ce- The Pope, as if hurt by her rebuke,
cilia had suffered martyrdom , and which and doubtful of his vision, then asked
was dedicated to her honor. It was now the name of her who thus addressed
one of the oldest churches in Rome. Two him .
centuries before, Gregory the Great, St. “ If thou seekest my name,” she said,
Gregory, had restored it, — for it even “ I am called Cecilia, the handmaiden of
then stood in need of repairs, and now it Christ.”
was in greater need than ever. Paschal “ How can I believe this,” replied the
determined , while praying, that he would sleeping Pope, “ since it was long ago
rebuild it from its foundations; but with reported that the body of this most holy
this determination came the desire to find martyr was carried away by the Lom
the body of the Saint, that her new church bards ? "
might not want its most precious posses- The Saint then told him that till this
sion. It was reported that the Lombards time her body had remained concealed ;
bad sought for it and carried it away, and but that now he must continue bis search,
the knowledge of the exact place of the for it pleased God to reveal it to him ; and
grave, even, was lost. But Paschal en- near her body he would also find other
tered vigorously on the scarch. He bodies of saints to be placed with hers in
knew that she had been buricd in the her new -built church. And saying this,
Cemetery of St. Callixtus, and tradition she departed.
declared that her sepulchre had been Hereupon a new search was begun,
made near the Chamber of the Popes. and shortly after, “ by the favor of God ,
There he sought, but his seeking was we found her in golden garments, and
vain . the cloths with which her sacred blood
On a certain day, however, —and here had been wiped from her wounds we
he begins his own story ,—in the Church found rolled up and full of blood at the
of St. Peter, as he sat listening to the feet of the blessed virgin .”
harmony of the morning service, drow- At the same time, the bodies of Vale
siness overcame him , and he fell asleep.* rian, Tiburtius, and Maximus were fonnd
As he was sleeping, a very beautiful in aa neighboring cemetery, and, together
maiden of virginal aspect, and in a rich with the relics of Pope Urban , -as well
dress, stood before him , and, looking at as the body of St. Cecilia , —were placed
* " Quadam die, dum ante Confessionem under the high altar of her church . * The
Beati Petri Apostoli psallentium matutinali cypress coffin in which she had been rev
lucescente Dominica residentes observaremus * It is a remarkable fact, to be explained
harmoniam , sopore in aliquo corporis fragili- by the believers in the virtue of relics, that,
tatem aggravante.” — Paschalis Pape Diploma, notwithstanding the body of St. Cecilia was
as quoted in L’llistoire de Sainte Cecile, par deposited perfect in her grave, and , as we
l'Abbé Guéranger. The simplicity of the old shall see, was long after found complete, no
Pope's story is wofully hurt by the grandilo- less than five heads of St. Cecilia are declared
quence of the French Abbé : " Le Pontife to exist, or to have existed ,-for one has been
écoutait avec délices l'harmonie des Can- lost, --in different churches. One is in the
tiques que l'Eglise fait monter vers le Sei- church of the SS. Quattro Coronati, at Rome,
gneur au lever du jour. Un assoupissement which possessed it from a very early period ;
produit par la fatigue des veilles saintes vient a second is at Paris, a third at Beauvais, a
le saisir sur le siége même où il présidait fourth was at Tours, and we have seen the
dans la majesté apostolique," etc., etc., etc., reliquary in which a fifth is preserved in the
ad nauseam . old cathedral of Torcello.
680 The Catacombs of Rome. [ April,
erently laid at the time of her death figure is rendered with amusing naïveté
was preserved and set within a marble and literalness.
sarcophagus. No expense was spared by Meanwhile, after the translation of St.
the devout Paschal to adorn the church Cecilia's body,7 the catacombs remained
that had been so signally favored . All much in the same neglected state as be
the Art of the time (and at that time the fore, falling more and more into ruin, but
arts flourished only in the service of the still visited froin year to year by the pil
Church) was called upon to assist in mak- grims, whom even pillage and danger
ing the new basilica magnificent. The could not keep from Rome. For two
mosaics which were set up to adorn the centuries,—from the thirteenth to the fif
apse and the arch of triumph were among teenth ,—scarcely any mention of them is
the best works of the century, and, with to be found. Petrarch, in his many letters
colors still brilliant and design still un- about Rome, dwells often on the sacred
impaired, they hold their place at the ness of the soil within the city, in whose
present day, and carry back the thought crypts and churches so many saints and
and the imagination of the beholder a martyrs lie buried, but hardly refers to
thousand years into the very heart of the catacombs themselves, and never in
this old story: Under the great mosaic such a way as to show that they were an
of the apse one may still read the inscrip object of interest to him , though a lover
tion , in the rude Latin of the century, of all Roman relics and a faithful wor .
which tells of Paschal's zcal and Rome's shipper of the saints. It was near the end
joy, closing with the line, of the sixteenth century that a happy
" Roma resultat ovans semper ornata per
accident—the falling in of the road out
ævum ." side the Porta Salara - brought to light
the streets of the Cemetery of St. Pris
And thus once more the body of the cilla, and awakened in Antonio Bosio a
virgin was left to repose in peace, once zeal for the exploration of the catacombs
more the devout could offer their prayers which led him to devote the remainder
to the Saint at the altar consecrated by of his long life to the pursuit, and by
her presence, and once more the super- study, investigation, and observation, to
stitious could increase the number of the lay the solid basis of the thorough and
miracles wrought by her favor. Through comprehensive acquaintance with subter
the long period of the fall and depres- rancan Rome which has been extended
sion of Rome, her church continued to be by the researches of a long line of able
a favorite one with the people of the city, scholars down to the present day. But to
and with the pilgrims to it. From time Bosio the chief honor is duc, as the ear
to time it was repaired and adorned, and liest, the most exact , and the most inde
in the thirteenth century the walls of its fatigable of the explorers.
portico were covered with a series of fres It was during his lifetime that the story
coes, representing the events of St. Ce- of St. Cecilia received a continuation, of
cilia's life, and the finding of her body by which he himself has left us a full ac
Paschal. These frescoes— precious as count. In the year 1599, Paolo Emilio
specimens of reawakening Art, and es- Sfondrati, Cardinal of the Title of St.
pecially precious at Rome , because of the Cecilia,* undertook a thorough restora
little that was done there at that period tion of the old basilica erected by Pas
—were all, save one, long since destroy- chal. He possessed a large collection
ed in some • restoration " of the church. of relics, and determined that he would
The one that was preserved is now with- place the most precious of them under
in the church, and represents in its two the high altar. For this purpose the
divisions the burial of the Saint by Pope * The Titoli of Rome correspond nearly to
Urban, and her appearance in St. Peter's Parishes. They date from an early period in
Church to the sleeping Paschal, whose the history of the Church .
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome.
vault containing the sarcophagi in which
St. Cecilia and her companions lay must
be opened , and on the 20th of October
the work was undertaken. Upon break . brought to a room in the adjoining con
ing through the wall, two sarcophagi of
white marble were discovered . The
Cardinal was on the spot, and, in the
presence of numerous dignitaries of the
Church, whom he had sent for as wit-
nesses, he caused the heavy top of the
first of these stone coffins to be lifted.
Within was seen the chest of cypress-
wood in which, according to the old sto
ry, the Saint had been originally placed
Sfondrati with his own hands removed
the lid, and within the chest was found
the body of the virgin, with a silken
veil spread over her rich dress, on which
could still be scen the stains of blood ,
while at her feet yet lay the bloody cloths of the discovery. " The Pope groaned
which had been placed there more than and grieved that he was not well enough
thirteen centuries before. She was lying
upon her right side, her feet a little
drawn up, her arms extended and rest-
ing one upon the other, her neck turned
so that her head rested upon the left
check. Her form perfectly preserved,
and her attitude of the sweetest virgin-
al grace and modesty, it seemed as if
she lay there asleep rather than dead . *
- The second sarcophagus was found to ing they reached the Church of St. Ce
contain three bodies, which were recog-
nized as being, according to tradition,
those of Tiburtius, Valerian, and Maxi-
mus.
* " Dormientis instar," says Bosio, in his
Relatio Inventionis et Repositionis S. Ceciliæ et
Sociorum . The discovery of the body of the
Saint in this perfect state of preservation has,
of course, been attributed by many Romanist
authors to miraculous interposition. But it is
to be accounted for by natural causes. The
soil of the catacombs and of Rome is in many
parts remarkable for its antiseptic qualities.
The Cavaliere de Rossi informed us that he
had been present at the opening of an ancient
tomb on the Appian Way, in which the body
of a young man had been found in a state of
entire preservation, fresh almost as on the day
of its burial, and with it was a piece of sponge
which had apparently been soaked in blood,
- for his death had been by violence. In the
winter of 1857, two marble sarcophagi were
found in one of the passages of the Catacombs
681
The day advanced as these discoveries
were made, and Sfondrati having had a
chest of wood hastily lined with silk, and
vent, which opened into the church, (it
is the room at the left, now used for the
first reception of novices,) carried the
cypress chest with its precious contents
to this apartment, and placed it within
the new box , which he locked and sealed.
Then, taking the key with him, he hast
ened to go out to Frascati, where
Pope Clement VIII. was then staying,
to avoid the early autumn airs of Rome.
The Pope was in bed with the gout, and
gave audience to no one ; but when he
heard of the great news that Sfondrati
had brought, he desired at once to see
him, and to hcar from him the account
to hasten at once
" to visit and salute so
great a martyr.” But it happened that
the famous annalist, Cardinal Baronius,
was then with the Pope at Frascati, and
Clement ordered him to go to Rome
furthwith, in his stead, to behold and ven
erate the body of the Saint. Sfondrati
immediately took Baronius in his car
riage back to the city, and in the even
cilia.* Baronius, in the account which he
has left of these transactions, expresses
in simple words his astonishment and de
light at seeing the preservation of the
of St. Callixtus, in which excavations were
then going on, and upon being opened, a body
was found in each, in a state, not of entire,
but of almost perfect preservation. The skin
had become soinewhat shrunk, and the flesh
was hardened and darkened, but the general
form and features were preserved. Possibly
these also may have been the bodies of saints.
The sarcophagi were kept through the winter
in the catacombs where they were found, and
their marble lids being removed , covers of
glass were fitted to them , so that the bodies
might be seen by the visitors to the catar
combs. It was a frequent custom , chiefly in
the fourth and fifth centuries, to bury the
rich in sarcophagi placed within tombs in
the catacombs.
* This account is to be found in the Annals
of Baronius, ad annum 821.
682 The Catacombs of Rome. [ April,
cypress chest, and of the body of the Maderno to make a statue which should
Saint " When we at length beheld the represent the body of Cecilia as it was
sacred body, it was then, that, according found lying in the cypress chest. Ma
to the words of David, “ as we had heard, derno was then a youth of twenty-three
so we saw , in the city of the Lord of years. Sculpture at this time in Rome
Hosts, in the city of our God .' * For as had fallen into a miserable condition
we had read that the venerated body of of degraded conventionalism and ex
Cecilia had been found and laid away travagance. But Maderno was touch
by Paschal the Pope, so we found it. " ed with the contagion of the religious
He describes at length the posture of the enthusiasm of the moment, and his work
virgin, who lay like one sleeping, in such is full of simple dignity, noble grace , and
modest and noble attitude, that " who tender beauty. No other work of the
ever beheld her was struck with un- time is to be compared with it. It is a
speakable reverence , as if the heavenly memorial not only of the loveliness of
Spouse stood by as a guard watching his the Saint, but of the self-forgetful relig
sleeping Bride,warning and threatening: ious fervor of the artist, at a period when
· Awake not my love till she please .'” + every divine impulse-seemed to be absent
The next morning, Baronius performed from the common productions of Art.
Mass in the church in memory and hon- Rome has no other statue of such sacred
or of St. Cecilia, and the other saints charm , none more inspired with Chris
buried near her, and then returned to tian feeling. It lies in front of the high
Frascati to report to the Pope what he altar, disfigured by a silver crown and a
had seen . It was resolved to push for- costly necklace,-the offerings of vulgar
ward the works on the church with vigor, and pretentious adoration ; but even thus
and to replace the body of the Saint it is at once a proof and prophecy of what
under its altar on her feast-day, the Art is to accomplish under the influence
twenty -second of November, with the of the Christian spirit. The inscription
most solemn pontifical ceremony. that Sfondrati placed before the statue
Meanwhile the report of the wonder- still exists. It is as follows: “Behold
ful discovery spread through Rome, and the image of the most holy virgin Ce
caused general excitement and emotion. cilia ; whom I, Paul, Cardinal of the Title
The Trasteverini, with whom Cecilia had of St. Cecilia, saw lying perfect in her
always been a favorite saint, were fill- sepulchre; which I have caused to be
ed with joy, with picty, and supersti- made in this marble, in the very position
tion . Crowds continually pressed to the of the body, for you.”
church, and so great was the ardor of The twenty -second of November ar
worshippers, that the Swiss guards of the rived. The Pope had recovered from
court were needed to preserve order. bis gout. The church was splendidly
Lamps were kept constantly burning decorated. A solemn procession, illus
around the coffin , which was sct near a trated by the presence of all the great
grating in the wall between the church dignitaries of the Church, of the ambassa
and convent, so as to be visible to dors of foreign states, and the nobles of
the devout. “ There was no need of Rome, advanced up the nave. Clement
burning perfumes and incense near intoned the Mass. Then proceeding to
the sacred body, for a sweetest odor the cypress chest, it was lifted by four
breathed out from it, like that of roses cardinals, and carried to the vault under
and lilies. " the altar, while the choir chanted the
Sfondrati, desirous to preserve for fu- anthem , o beata Cæcilia, quæ Almachi
ture generations a memorial likeness of um superâsti, Tiburtium et Valerianum
the Saint, ordered the sculptor Stefano ad martyrii coronam rocâsti ! The old
* Psalm xlviii. 8. coffin , undisturbed, was placed in a silver
† Song of Solomon, ii. 7 . case ; the last service was performed ,
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 683

and the boily of the virgin was once might determine the question. Again, in
more laid away to rest. the neighborhood of the discovery of the
We pass now over two centuries and broken stone was an old building, used
a half. About five years ago the Cava- as a stable, and for other mean purposes.
liere de Rossi found lying upon the On examination of it, De Rossi satisfied
ground , in a vigna bordering on the Ap- himself that it had been originally one
pian Way, about two miles from Rome, a of the churches erected in the fourth
portion of a sepulchral stone on which century at the entrance of the cata
were the letters NELIUS MARTYR, combs, and he had little doubt that he
the NE broken across. He immediately had now found the place of the main
conjectured that this was a piece of the descent into the Catacombs of St. Callix
stone that had covered the grave of Pope tus. The discovery was a great one ;
Cornelius, [A. D. 250–252,) and on the for near the main entrance had been the
truth of this conjecture important results burial-place of the popes, and of St. Ce
depended. It was known that this pope cilia. De Rossi laid the results of his
had been buried in the Catacombs of St. inductive process of archæological reason
Callixtus; and it was known also, from ing before the pope, who immediately
the itineraries and some other sources, gave orders for the purchase of the
that his grave was not in the same cham- vigna, and directions that excavations
ber with the graves of the other popes should be at once begun . *
who were buried in those catacombs, but The work was scarcely begun, before
that it was not far away from it. It was an ancient stairway, long ago buried
further known, as we have seen , that the under accumulated earth and rubbish,
chapel in which St. Cecilia had been was discovered, leading down to the sec
buried was close to the Chamber of the ond story of the catacombs. The pas
Popes. But aa tradition dating from a late sages into which it opened were filled
period of the Middle Ages had given the with earth , but, as this was cleared away ,
name of Callixtus to the catacombs open- a series of chambers of unusual size,
ing from the Church of St. Sebastian , at a reaching almost to the surface of the soil,
little greater distance from Rome. In was entered upon. At the right a wide
these catacombs the place supposed to be door led into a large chapel. The walls
that of St. Cecilia's grave was pointed
* Another curious point was made by De
out, and an inscription sct up to mark Rossi previously to the commencement of the
the spot, by a French archbishop, in the explorations. It illustrates the accuracy of
year 1409, still exists. Many indications, his acquaintance with the underground archæ
however, led De Rossi to disbelieve this ology . In one of the itineraries it was said,
tradition and to distrust this authority. Speaking of the burial-place of Cornelius,
It contradicted the brief indications of that here also St. Cyprian was buried. Now,
as is well known, Cyprian was buried in
the itineraries, and could not be recon Africa, where he had suffered martyrdom .
ciled with other established facts. Not His martyrdom took place on the same day
far from the place where the broken in- with that of Cornelius, though in another year ;
scription was found was an accidental and their memories were consequently cele
entrance into catacombs which had been brated by the Church on the same day, the
16th of September. De Rossi declared, that,
supposed to have been originally con if he discovered the tomb of St. Cornelius, he
nected with those of St. Sebastian , but should find near it sometliing which would
were believed by De Rossi to be a por explain the error of the itinerary in stating
tion of the veritable Catacombs of St. that Cyprian's grave also was here. And
Callixtus, and quite separate from the such proved to be the fact. On the wall, by
former. The paths in this part, how the side of the grave, was found a painting
of Cornelius, with his name, “Scs Cornelius, "
ever, were stopped up in so many direc and by the side of this figure was another
tions, that it was impossible to get an en painting of аa bishop in his robes, with the let
trance through them to such parts as ters “ Scs Ciprianus. "
684 The Catacombs of Rome. [ April,
were covered with rudely scratched names structed, out of a hundred and twelve
and inscriptions, some in Greek and some separate, minute, and scattered pieces,
in Latin. De Rossi, whose eyes were the metrical inscription in which Dama
practised in the work, undertook to de- sus expressed his desire to be buried with
cipher these often obscure scribblings. them , but his fear of vexing their sacred
They were for the most part the inscrip- ashes.*
tions of the pilgrims who had visited There could no longer be any doubt;
these places, and their great number gave this was the Chapel of the Popes, and
proof that this was a most important por- that of St. Cecilia must be near by.
tion of the cemetery. The majority of Proceeding with the excavations, a door
these were simply names, or names ac- leading into a neighboring crypt was
companied with short expressions of opened. The crypt was filled with earth
piety. Many, for instance, were in such and débris, which appeared to have fallen
forun as this,-Έλαφιν εις μνείαν έχετε,- into it through a luminare, now choked
" Keep Elaphis in remembrance .” Many up with the growth and accumulated
were expressions of devotion, written by rubbish of centuries. In order to re
the pilgrims for the sake of those who move the mass of earth with least risk
were dear to them, as , — Vivat in Domino, of injury to the walls of the chamber, it
“ May he live in the Lord ” ; Pelſite] ut was determined to take it out through
•Verecundus cum suis bene nåriget, “ Seek the luminare from above. As the work
that Verecundus with his companions advanced, there were discovered on the
may voyage prosperously.” The charac- wall of the luminare itself paintings of
ter of the writing, the names and the the figures of three men, with a name
style, indicate that these inscriptions be- inscribed at the side of each ,—Polica
long mostly to the third and fourth cen- mus, Sebastianus, and Cyrinus. These
turies. Among these writings on the names inspired fresh zeal, for they were
wall were one or two which confirmed De those of saints who were mentioned in
Rossi in the opinion that this must be the one or more of the itineraries as hav
sepulchre in which the greater numbering been buried in the same chapel with
of the popes of the third century had St. Cecilia. As the chapel was cleared,
been buried . Carefully preserving all a large arcosolium was found, and near
the mass of rubbish which was taken it a painting of a youthful woman, rich
from the chamber, he set bimself to its ly attired, adorned with necklaces and
examination, picking out from it all the bracelets, and the dress altogether such
bits and fragments of marble, upon many as might befit a bride. Below, on the
of which letters or portions of letters same wall, was a figure of a pope in his
were cut. Most of them were of that robes, with the name “ Ses Urbanus "
elaborate character which is well known painted at the side ; and close to this
to all readers of the inscriptions from figure, a large head of the Saviour, of the
the catacombs as that of Pope Dama Byzantine type, with a glory in the form
sus, — for this Pope [A. D. 366–385]
had devoted himself to putting up new * In another part of the catacombs the re
mainder of the stone that had been set over
inscriptions over celebrated graves, and the grave of Cornelius was found . It fitted
had used a peculiar and sharply cut let precisely the piece first found by De Rossi.
ter, easy to be distinguished. It was The letters upon it were CORN EP. The
known that he had put new inscriptions whole inscription then read, “ Cornelius Mar
over the tombs of the popes buried in the tyr, Ep[iscopus.]" It is rare that a bit of
Cemetery of St. Callixtus. After most broken stone paves the way to such dis
coveries. But it must be a man of ge
patient examination, De Rossi succeed nius who walks over the pavement. Cardi
ed in finding and putting together the nal Wiseman has given an imperfect account
inscriptions of four of these early popes, of these discoveries in his diverting novel,
and, with Cuvier- like sagacity, he recon- Fabiola .
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 685

a Greck cross .
of a The character of the tombs so as to conceal them . It was plain
paintings showed that they were of com- that this must have been done with some
paratively late date, probably not earli- definite purpose ; and it seems altogether
er than the sixth century, and obviously likely that it was to hide these tombs from
executed at a time when the chapel was sacrilegious invaders . The walls had been
frequented by worshippers, and before built when the faithful were forced by the
the traditional knowledge of the exact presence of their enemies to desert the
site of St. Cecilia's sepulchre had been catacombs and leave them unprotected .
lost. It was a striking illustration of the ven
The discovery made by Paschal after eration in which these holy places bad
the place had been deserted was thus been held. Upon examination of the
repeated by De Rossi after a second floor in front of the arcosolium of this
longer, and more obscure period of ob chapel, traces of the foundation of aa wall
livion. The divine vision which had were discovered, and thus the Lombard
led the ancient Pope, according to his failure and Paschal's difficulty were ex
own account, to the right spot, wàs now plained.
replaced by scientific investigation. The So ends the story of St. Cecilia and
statements of inspiration were confirm- her tomb. Within her church are the
ed, as in so many more conspicuous remains of the bath -chamber where she
instances, by the discoveries of science. suffered death. The mosaics of the
Cecilia had lain so near the popes, that apse and the arch of triumph tell of the
she might, as she had said to Paschal, first finding of her body ; Maderno's
have spoken to him when he was in their statue recalls the fact of its second dis
chapel, os ad os, “ mouth to mouth . ” But covery long after; and now this newly
the questions naturally arose , Why was opened , long forgotten chapel shows
it that in Paschal's time, before this chapel where her precious body was first laid
was encumbered with earth , it had been away in peace, brings the legend of her
so difficult to find her grave ? and, Why faithful death into clearer remembrance,
had not the Lombards, who had sought and concludes the ancient story with
for her sacred body, succeeded in finding dramatic and perfect completeness.
it ? De Rossi was able to furnish the “ The Lord discovereth deep things
solution. In several instances he had out of darkness, and bringeth out to light
found walls carefully built up in front of the shadow of death .”
[ To be continued. )

HAPPINESS.
WING-FOOTED ! thou abid'st with him
That asks it not : but he who hath
Watched o'er the waves thy fading path
Will never more on ocean's rim ,
At morn or eve, bebold returning
Thy high -heaped canvas shoreward yearning :
Thou only teachest us the core
And inmost meaning of No More,
Thou, who first showest us thy face
Turned o'er the shoulder's parting grace,
And whose sad footprints we can trace
Away from every mortal door !
686 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ April,

THE PURE PEARL OF DIVER'S BAY.

I. down along the rocks that lay between
When the great storms raged along her and the water, she saw lying near
the Atlantic coast, they sometimes tossed her feet, securely lodged by the waves
a token into Diver's Bay. In more than among the stones, a basket. It was a
one of the rude cabins composing the very different affair from that other,
fishermen's settlement memorials of ship- lying a few paces off, with which she
wreck and disaster might be found ; and went about gathering sea -weed . It was
these memorials did not always fail to small, and light, and delicately woven ,
kindle imagination, and to arouse soft embroidered , too , with floss. When she
feelings of pity for the calamities they bent forward and picked it up, long
suggested. strings of shiny weed dangled dripping
One morning, that dawned bright and from the handles,—and something beside;
mild after a week of tempest, Clarice for, as she attempted to remove the traces
Briton went out with her coarse basket of wild voyaging, something that was not
to gather the sea-weed tossed on the weed resisted her efforts, and caused her
shore. She was the first child out that to raise the lid. As she did so, a chain,
morning, and on account of the late which had been partly secured by the
storin , which had prevented the usual closing of the lid, was disengaged, and
daily work, the harvest was a rich one. fell into her lap.
There was always need that Clarice “ What's that, Clarice ? ” said a voice
should work with her might when she just above her, as she in amazement lift
found work to do, and she now labored ed the chain , and endeavored to free it
from dawn till sunrise, filling her basket from the weed .
many times over, until the boards where “ Oh, Luke, there must have been a
she spread the weed to dry were near- wreck ! See ! I found it just here at my
ly covered . Then she threw herself feet,” said Clarice, sorrowfully ;—appar
down to rest by her father's door. But ently not taken by surprise by the sudden
when the sun was rising she went and coming and speaking of Luke Merlyn ;
sat among the rocks, and watched the she did not even lift her head, nor for
changing of the sky and water, and an instant turn to him from what occu
the flocks of birds as they came scream pied her.
ing from their nests to dive among the " There's a ring, too , I declare ! ” said
waves and mount beyond her sight Luke, coming down to her side ; and he
among the mists of morning. She nev- took from her lap a small ring, in which
er tired of watching them, or of gazing was set a solitary pearl ;—the ring had
on these scenes. She knew the habits of dropped from the chain. “ What next ?
the shore birds, understood their indi- Look in. "
cations and devices, and whatever their Clarice opened the basket again, and
movements foreboded concerning the turned out the white silk lining, which
weather. Clarice was also versed in was soaking and stained with wild sca
winds and clouds, and knew as well as travel. “ That is all ,” said she.
the wise fishermen what the north -wind " That chain is a gold one,” remarked
had in store , and what the south -wind Luke Merlyn. “ There must have been
would give them. a wreck . Who do you suppose these
While she sat resting a few minutes, things belonged to ? Some lady ? Look
and wondering that the other children at that basket now. She kept her trink
of the beach were so long in waking to ets in it. I suppose lots of 'em got shook
the pleasant day, suddenly, as she looked out by the way. I am glad it was you
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 687

found it, Clarice. Just try that ring on around, Clarice ! Come now , why don't
your finger now ; I should think it might you say I'm the best fellow ? Then we'll
fit you ." be even. I dm , you know. But then
He took up the ring and looked at I want to hear you say so .”
Clarice, but she shrunk back shudder- The merry fellow was in carnest,
ing though he laughed. He blushed more
Oh, no ! I should feel as if it would deeply than the girl,-indeed , she did
drag me down to the bottom of the sea not blush at all,—when he thus spoke
after the owner.” to her. She looked at him a little sur
66
“It's the neatest thing I ever saw , prised.
though, Clarice. Look, what a pearl ! “ Come," said he, with gentle coaxing,
You must keep it for your own, any “ I know what you think. Speak out,
way, if you won't wear it. Nobody and make me feel happy, all the days
about here is fit but you. The poor of my life. If it wasn't that you feel
little basket, too, -poor little ark ! ” so about the ring - But why shouldn't
He took it up and looked it over, much you feel solemn about it ? It belonged
as though it were a dead bird, or some to soine beautiful lady, I suppose, who
>

other pretty thing that once had life, lies at rest in the bottom of the sea by
and knew how to enjoy it. this time. H. H .” — he read the initials
“ Are you going out to-day, Luke ? ” engraved on the clasp of the chain.
asked Clarice. Clarice, who held the ring, inadver
" Don't you see I've got the net ? tently turned it that moment to the light
Father will be down by the time I'm so that her eyes could not fail to perceive
ready. We are tired enough hanging that two letters were also written by a
about waiting for the blow to be over.” graver underneath the pearl. These
" May-be you will see something," said letters likewise were H. H. She gave
Clarice, in an undertone. “ If you could the ring to Luke, pointing to the ini
only find out about the ship, and the tials.
66
poor passengers ! ” Yes, to be sure,” said he, examining
May -be," answered Luke,-saying it with his bright eyes. “It's the pret
this to comfort her. “ Is your father tiest thing I ever saw. These letters
going out today ? ” must have stood for something. Clarice, "
“ Ile said he would, last night. I'm —he hesitated a moment, — " Clarice, they
glad it came off so pleasant. See how might stand for something yet,—Heart
long this chain is !-a great many times and Hand. Here they are , -take them,
longer than his big watch-chain ! ” -they're yours,—my heart and my hand,
“ Worth fifty times as much, too. " till Death comes between ! "
“ Is it ? ” said Clarice, looking up in " Don't talk that way, Luke," answered
wonder, almost incredulous ;-but then the girl, gravely. “ Your father is wait
Luke had said it. ing for you, I'm sure.”
" This is gold. Come and walk down But Luke did not believe that she was
to the boat, Clarice. How many times in such haste to be rid of him.
have you filled your basket this morn- “ He hasn't gone down yet. I've
ing ? You look tired . How did you watched ,” said he. “ He'd be willing to
come to wake up so soon ? I believe I wait, if he knew what I was saying. Be
heard you singing, and that was what sides, if you are in a hurry, it won't take
brought me out so quick.” but a minute to say yes, Clarice. Will
“ I haven't sung any, Luke,” she an- you take my heart and my band ? Here
swered, looking at him in wonder. is your ring.”
" Oh, yes ! I'm sure I heard you. I Clarice took the ring and looked away ;
got up and looked out of my window ; but, in looking away, her eyes fell on
there you were . You are the best girl Luke, and she smiled .
688 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ April,
" It's the prettiest thing, that ring is, in “ Idling down there on the beach to
—o
the world , except you, Clarice,"-S the see the boys off fishing ! " she could not
smile made him speak. help saying. “ You needn't be up afore
“ That's new for me,” said the girl. the break o' day for work like that.”
“ Talk sense, Luke.” " It was Luke Merlyn .”
“ Handsome is that handsoine does, " No matter. "
say I. And if you a'n't the best girl in 66
“ I showed him what I had found.
the Bay, Clary, who is, then ? When are Ask him if I'm ever too free. He'd
you going to say yes ? ” demanded the know as quick as anybody, — and care
young fellow . as much . "
66
“ Now , " replied Clarice, suddenly . Clarice, while speaking this, had de
" Have you taken my heart and parted yet farther both in look and
hand ? ” asked the lad as quickly, his voice from her usual serenity.
face glowing with delight. The dame let her last words pass
“ Yes." without taking them up. She was by
“To keep forever, Clarice ? ” It seem- this time curious.
66
ed, after all, incredible. What did you find ? ” asked she.
“ Yes, Luke.” And so speaking, the Clarice showed the basket and the
girl meant yes, forever. gold chain . Her mother handled both
Now this promise had not really tak- with wondering admiration, asking many
en either of these children by surprise. a question. At last she threw the chain
They had long understood each other. around her neck.
But when they had given a mutual “ It's gold ,” said she. “ It's worth
promise, both looked grave. Clarice much . If you could pick up the like
stood by the water's edge, careless that of that every day, you might let the old
time was passing. Luke was in no hur- weed-basket drift."
ry for his father. “ I had rather gather weeds till my
But at length a shrill voice called the back was broken doing it, than ever find
girl. Damc Briton stood in the cabin another ,” said Clarice.
door, and her angry tongue was laden The dame took this for a child's exag
with reproaches ready for utterance geration ; observing which, Clarice said,
when Clarice should come within easier sadly,
66
reach of her voice. Why, don't you sec how it came to
" I must go ," said Clarice to Luke. shore ? There's been a wreck in the
“ I'll follow you, to-night. Don't work storm last week. Oh, may -be I've found
too hard ,” he answered. “ Take care of all that will tell of it ! "
my heart, Clarice. ” “What's that in your hand ? ” asked
A storm broke upon Clarice when she the dame, who spied the ring.
went home to her mother. She bore the Clarice half opened her palm ; she did
blame of her idleness with tolerable pa- not like to let the ring pass from her
tience, until it seemed as if the gale keeping, and all this while she had stood
would never blow over . At last some doubting whether or not she should show
quick words escaped her : it to her mother.
“ Three bushels of weed lie there on Dame Briton took it quickly. The
the boards ready spread, and drying. I dull glitter of greedy eyes fell on the
gathered them before another creature mild lustre of the pearl, but found no
was stirring in Diver's Bay.” Then she reflection .
added, more gently, “ I found something “ A ring ! ” said she, and she tried to
besides ." fit it to her little finger. It would not
But though Dame Briton heard, she pass the first rough joint.
66
passed this last bit of information with- Try it," said she to Clarice.
out remark . 66
No," was the quiet answer. “ But I
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 689

will keep the ring. It must have been were all poor, and ate the crusts of
a lady's. May -be it was a token .” labor.
66
:-If your father should
May-be it was. Her father, had Nature only given him
take that chain to the Port, he might what she seemed to have intended at the
make a handsome bargain , -if he was outset, might have been as successful a
worth a snap at bargains. — Here's some- fisherman as lived at the Bay. But he
thing ; what be these marks ? look here, trusted to luck, and contrived to make
Clarice.” half of what he earned a serious dam
The face of the girl flushed a little as age to him. The remainder was little
she answered, " H. II.” enough for the comfort of his family,
“ H. H. ! What does that mean ? Ismall though that family was.
wonder . " Briton was a good fellow, everybody
“ May-be the name of the owner,” an- said. They meant that he was always
swered Clarice, timidly. ready for sport, and time-wasting, and
She was thinking, not of what the let- drinking, and that sort of generosity
ters might have meant to others, but of which is the shabbiest sort of selfishness.
what they had come to signify to her They called him “ Old Briton,” but he
and Luke. was not, by many, the oldest man in Di
66
Who knows ? " answered her mother ; ver's Bay; he might have been the wick
and she stool musing and absent, and cdest, had he not been the jolliest, and
her face had aa solemn look. incapable of hiding malice in his heart.
Clarice now took the basket to the And if I said he was out and out the
fireplace and held it there till it was wickedest, I should request that people
dried. With the drying the colors would refrain from lifting up their hands
brightened and the sand was easily in horror, on account of the poor old fel
brushed away ; but many a stain re- low. We all know-alas, perhaps, we
mained on the once dainty white silk all love - wickeder souls than could have
lining ; the basket would hardly have been produced from among the older
been recognized by its owner. Having fishermen, had all their sins been con
dried and cleansed it as well as she was centrated in one individual.
able, Clarice laid it away in a chest for Old Briton was what the people called
safe-keeping, and then ate her break- a lucky fisherman. In seasons when he
fast, standing. After that, she went out chose to work , the result was sufficiently
to work again until the tide should come obvious, to himself and others, to astonish
in. She left the chain with her mother, both . But even in the best seasons he
but the ring she had tied to a cord, and was a bad manager. He trusted every
hung it around her neck . boily, and found, to his astonishment,
By this tiine the children of the fisher- how few deserve to be trusted .
men were all out, and the most indus- Danie Briton was a stout, loud-talking
trious of them at work . They scattered woman , whom experience had not soften
among the rocks and crags, and wan- ed in her ways of speech or thought or
dered up and down the coast three action. She was generally at strife with
niiles, gathering sea-weed, which it was her husband, but the strife was most illog
their custom to dry, and then carry to ical. It did not admit of a single legit
town , the Port, not many miles distant, imate deduction in the mind of a third
where it was purchased by the glass- person . It seemed sometimes as if the
makers. pair were possessed of the instincts of
Clarice had neither brother nor sister, those animals which unite for mutual
and she made little of the children of the destruction , and as if their purpose were
neighboring fishermen ; for her life was to fulfil their destiny with the utmost
one of toil, and her inheritance seemed rapidity.
very different from theirs, though they In the years when Dame Briton, by
VOL. I. 44
 690 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ April,
nature proud and ambitious, was putting most promising fellow in this little village
forth the most successful efforts she ever of fishermen. He was strong, active,
made at decent housekeeping, endeavor- ready for any undertaking that required
ing to transform her husband into such a a bold spirit and firm hand,—was quick
person as he was not born to be, striving er in thought and readier in speech than
hard to work her will , -in those years any lad about. He had a little personal
a

Clarice was born . vanity, —and good looks to encourage

Is the pearl a product of diseasc ? the same ; but he had besides a generous
Clarice grew up in the midst of influ- heart, and the conviction was general,
ences not the purest or most elevating. whether expressed or not, that in Luke
She was not by nature gay, but silent, a man was growing up who would some
truthful, and industrious. She was no day take the lead among the fishermen
coward by nature, and her training made of Diver's Bay. He had a livelier fan
her brave and ha Sometimes Old cy, a more active imagination, than any
Briton called her his boy, and exacted lad thereabout; these qualities of mind,
from her the service of a son . Daine united to his courage and warmth of
Briton did not quarrel with himn for heart, seemed to point toward a future
that ; she was as proud as the fisher- worth arriving at
man of any feat of skill or strength or
courage performed by Clarice. In their II.
way they were both fond of the child , Whey Luke returned from fishing,
but their fondness had strange manifes- towards evening, he went down to Brit
tation ; and of much tender speech, or on's cabin , hardly taking time to remove
fondling, or praise, the girl stood in no from liis person the traces of his day of
danger. toil, his haste was so great.
Illeness especially was held up before Briton had arrived before him, and
her, from the outset, as the most destruc- now sat at supper with his cup of grog
tive evil and dire iniquity of which hu- beside him . When Luke entered, Dame
man creature was capable ; and Old Briton was exhibiting the gold chain ,
Briton, lounging about all day with his reserved , in spite of her impatience , till
pipe in his mouth,—by no means a rare she had cooked the supper.
spectacle, —did not interfere with the les- It was partly on account of this chain
son the child's mother enforced . Win- that Luke had made such haste in com
ter and summer there was enough for the ing. He felt interested in the fortunes
little feet and hands to do. So, as Clarice of the family to-night, and he knew
grew up, she carned the best reputation Briton's habit of bargaining and throw
for industry of any girl in Diver's Bay. ing away treasure.
Before she became the praise of the Clarice was standing on the hearth
serious Bay people, Luke Merlyn's bright when he arrived . As Luke passed the
eyes were on the little girl, and he had a window, he thought her face looked very
settled habit of seeking times and oppor- sad ; but when he crossed the threshold ,
tunities for quiet talks with her. He the expression greatly changed, or else
liked to ask and follow her advice in he was mistaken . She had been telling
many matters. Many a heavy basket of her father how she found the chain , -but
weeds had he helped her carry home concerning the ring was silent, as in the
from the rocks; many a shell and pebble morning. That ring was still fastened to
had he picked up in his coast-work, when its cord, and hung about her neck. With
he went beyond the limits of the Bay,- reluctance she bad shown it even to her
because he knew the good girl had a lik- mother, and by this time, having scarcely
ing for every pretty thing. thought of anything beside, it possessed
If Clarice Briton was the finest girl, an almost sacred · charm to her eyes.
Luke Merlyn , beyond question, was the Why should I not say it was the most
1838. ] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 691

sacred of all things to her, since that is Briton laughed. “ No, you won't,” said
66
but true ? he. What the deuse ! -Sit down and
“ Is that the chain ," asked Luke, as he take something. What are you all stand
came up behind the fisherman's chair, ing about for ? Sit down. You shall
and clapped Old Briton on the shoulder. do the trading, Luke. There now, I've
“ You could trade that for a silver said it, and I hope you are all easy."
watch . " He laughed again ; for he knew very
“ What's that ? ” asked Briton, quickly well — he had often enough beard it
taking up the lad's words; and he pulled stated in full—the estimate set on his
out his pewter watch and laid it on the skill in making a bargain .
table. A silver watch ? " said be. You haven't seen the ring yet ? ”
“ A silver watch, as good as ever run , said Dame Briton, quite kindly, now that
for that gold chain . Just see how fine it this matter was settled to her mind.
is ! " “ Where's the ring, Clarice ? ”
“ So, so ! ” said the fisherman, thought- Other eyes were on the girl besides
fully resting his rough chin in his broad those of her mother. Old Briton pushed
palm. That was his attitude, when , at back his dish, and looked at Clarice.
home, he contemplated any of those fa- Luke was smiling. That smile became
mous bargains which always turned out joyful and beautiful to see, when Clarice,
so differently from anything that he an- blushing, removed the string from her
ticipated. neck and showed the ring.
" Let Luke do the trading for ye,” said “ That's neat ,” said Briton, turning the
Briton's wife, quickly recognizing his delicate ornament round and round , ex
symptoms. amining its chaste workmanship admir
She looked from the lad to her daugh- ingly. “ I never saw a pearl like that,
ter, and back again , five or six times in Mother. What do you wear it round
a second,-seeing more than most people your neck for, Clarice ?-put it on your
could have seen in observation appar- finger.”
ently so careless and superficial. Luke Merlyn had come to Briton's
“ I kept a sharp Jook out, Clary, all cabin to explain how matters stood be
day, but I saw nothing," said Luke, go- tween him and Clarice, as well as to
ing over to the hearth . look after the other bargain. Taking
* Nothing,—but,” he added, she look- advantage of her hesitation, he now
6
ed so disappointed , “ but, for all that, said , -
some, one else may. ” “ She could not wear it at her work .
Oh, I hope so !" And it's a token betwixt her and me.
“ What are you talking about? " asked Heart anıl llanı. Don't you see the let
Briton. ters ? That's what they mean to us."
** The shipwreck,” said Luke. Luke spoke out so boldly, that Clarice
“ Oh !-well, Luke,-will you make the ceased to tremble ; and when he took her
trade, Sir ? What do you say, Clarice ? hand and held it , she was satisfied to
The chain belongs to you , after all,” said stand there and answer, that the joined
Briton, with a laugh , —he could not help hands were a symbol of the united
the shipwreck . “ What are you going to hearts.
do with it, my girl ? ” “ What's that, old woman ? ” asked
" It is yours, father.” Briton , looking at his wife, as if for an
>

“ Thank ye !-a present ! " Old Brit- explanation.

on looked well pleased. 66
" Luke, what do you mean ? Are you
“ And if Luke will take it over ”- asking for Clarice ? ” inquired the dame.
“ I'll go to -night,” said Luke, ready to Yes, Mrs. Briton . "
66

start that moment, if such was the wish “ That's right enongh, old woman,”
of any person in the house. said Briton ; anil strong approval, to
692 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ April,
gether with some emotion , was in his courage of her heart. Her own home,
voice. and many another, was the better for
“ Babes in arms, both of 'em ! But a Clarice .
promise a’n't no hurt,”" -was
– the dame's Some Sunday in this summer of her
comment. Neither was she quite un- seventeenth year, when the missionary
moved, as she looked at the young pair came down to the Bay, they were to be
standing on the hearth ; such another, married . It was settled where they were
her heart told her, was not to be found in to live. A few years before, a young artist
Diver's Bay . came to the Bay and built a cabin near
“ Clarice is a good girl, Luke Merlyn,” the settlement ; there, during the sum
said Old Briton, solemnly. mer months, he lodged, for several sea
“ She is so, confirmed the mother. sons,-spending his time in studying the
“ So take the ring there for your to rocks of the coast and sailing about in bis
ken ." pleasure-boat. The last autumn he spent
Luke came forward and received the here he gave the cabin to Luke, in con
ring from Old Briton, and he laid the sideration of some generous service, and
string that held it round Clarice's neck. it was well known that to this home Luke
“ Take this chain ,” said Briton , with a would bring his wife ere long.
softened voice. “ It's fitter than the
string, and none too good for Clarice.
III .
Take it, Luke, and put the ring on't .”
" I'm going to trade that chain for a
9
But one bright day of this gay sum
silver watch ," said Luke, answering ac- mer of anticipated bridal, Luke Merlyn
cording to the light he saw in the eyes of went with his father, taking the fishing
Clarice. “ That chain is Clary's wed- nets, and a dozen men beside sailed or
ding present to her father. ” rowed out from the moorings; and all that
" Thank you , Luke,” said Briton ,-and went returned , save Merlyn and his son,
he drew his hand across his eyes, not for -returned alive, but rowing desperately,
a pretence. Then he took up his old sails furled, rowing for life in the gale.
pewter watch, the companion of many Nearly all the women and children of
years ; he looked at it without and within, the Bay were down on the beach at
silently , perhaps was indulging in a little nightfall, watching for the coming of hus
sentimental reflection ; but he put it into band, son, and brother ; and before dark
his pocket without speaking, and went on all had arrived except Merlyn and his
with his supper, as if nothing hail hap- Luke.
pened . The wind was blowing with terrific
violence, and darkness fell on the deep
This took place before Clarice was like despair. But until the windows of
fourteen years of age. At seventeen she heaven were opened, and the floods
was still living under her father's roof, poured down, Clarice Briton and her
and between her and Luke Merlyn the father, and the wife and children of Mer
pearl ring still remained a token. lyn, stood on the beach, or climbed the
Luke used to praise her beauty when rocks, and waited and tried to watch .
there was little of it to praisc. He was There was little sleep among them all
not blinder when the young face began that night. With the first approach of day,
to be conspicuous for the growing love- Clarice, who had sat all night by the fire
liness of the spirit within. The little watching with her fears, was out again
slender figure sprang up into larger, full- waiting till dawn should enable her to
er life, with vigor, strength, and grace ; search the shore. She was not long
the activity of her thoughts and the alone. The fishermen gathered together,
brightness of their intelligence became and when they saw the poor girl who
evident, as well as the tenderness and had come before them, for her sake they
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 693

comforted each other, as men dare , —and Moving back to escape the encroaching
for her sake, more than their own, when tide, Clarice saw the cap lying, caught on
they saw that there had come in to shore the cragged point of rock before her.
by night no token of disaster. Doubtless, Oh, she knew it well ! She stooped , she
they argued, Merlyn had put into the took it up,—she need not wait for any
ncarest port when the sudden storm other token . She dared not look upon
arose . As the day advanced, they one the sea again. She turned away. But
after another got out their boats, and whither ? Where now was her home ?
rowed down the bay, but did not take So long a time, since she was a child, it
their nets . had been in the heart of Luke ! Where
Bondo Emmins went out with Old was that heart lying ? What meant this
Briton, and Clarice heard him say, though token sent to her from the deep sea ?
he did not address her, that, it Luke Mer Oh, life and love ! was not all now over ?
lyn was alive, they would never come Heart still, hand powerless, home lost,
home without him . Now Bondo Emmins she sat on the beach till night fell. At
never loved Luke Merlyn, for Luke won sunset she stood up to look once more
every prize that Bondo coveted ; and up and down the mighty field of waters,
Bondo was not a hero to admire such along the shore, as far as her eyes could
superior skill. When Clarice beard his reach,—but saw nothing. Then she sat
words, and saw that he was going out down again, and waited until long after
with her father, her heart stood still; the stars appeared. Once or twice the
it did not bless him ; she turned away thought that her mother would wonder
quickly, faint, cold, shivering. What he at her long absence moved her ; but she
said had to her cars the sound of an as- impatiently controlled the fecble impulse
surance that this search was vain. to arise and return, until she recalled the
All day there was sad waiting, weary words of Bondo Emmins. Luke's mother,
watching, around Diver's Bay. And late too ,—and the cap in her care. If no one
in the afternoon but one or two of the clse had tidings for her, she had tidings.
boats that went out in search bad re- Her father had reached home before
turned. her, and there was now no watcher on
Towards evening Clarice walked away the beach, so far as Clarice could discover.
to the Point, three miles off ; thence she Perhaps there was no longer any doubt
could watch the boats as they approached in any mind. She hurried to the cabin.
the Bay from the ocean. Once before, At the door she met Bondo Emmins
that day, under the scorching noontide coming out. He had a lantern in his
sunr, she had gone thither, — and now hand.
again, for she could not endure the sym- “ Is that you, Clarice ? " said he. “ I
pathy of friends or the wondering watch was just going to look for you.”
of curious eyes. It was better than to She scanned his face by the glare of
stand and wait ,-better than to face the the lantern with terrible cagerness, to
grief of Merlyn's wife and children,- see what tidings he had for her. He only
better than to see the pity in her neigh- looked grave. It was a face whose signs
bors' faces, or even than to hear the voice Clarice had never wholly trusted, but
of her own mother. she did not doubt them now.
The waves had freight for her that even- “ 1 have found his cap ,” said she, in a
ing. When the tide came in, and her low, troubled voice. “ You said , that, if
eyes were lifted, gazing afar, scanning he was alive, you would find him. I
the broad expanse of water with such heard you. What have you found ? "
searching, anxious vision, as, it seemed, “ Nothing ."
nothing could escape, Luke Merlyn's cap Then she passed by him, though he
was dashed to her very feet, tossed from would have spoken further. She went
the grave. into the house and sat down on the hearth
694 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ April,
with Luke's cap in her band, which she per. They all heard her, and looked at
held up before the fire to dry. So she one another, trouble and wonder in their
sat one morning holding the tiny basket faces. “ I shall find him ," she repeated,
which the waves had dashed ashore. in a louder tone; and she drew herself
Briton and his wife looked at each up, and bent forward ,—but her eyes saw
other, and at young Einmins, who, after not the cheerful fire -light, her ears took
a moment's hesitation , had put out the in no sound of crackling fagot, rising
lantern light, and followed her back into wind, or muttered fear among the three
the house. who sat and looked at her.
6
“ It is his cap,” said Bondo, in a low Bondo Emmins had taken up the cap
voice, but not so low as to escape the ear when Clarice dropped it,-he had ex
of Clarice. amined it inside and out, and passed it to
“ The sea sent it for a token ,” said she, Dame Briton. There was no mistaking
without turning her gaze from the fire. the ownership. Not a child of Diver's
The old people moved up to the Bay but would have recognized it as the
hearth . property of Luke Merlyn. The dame
Sit down, Emnins,” said Briton. passed it to the old man, who looked at
" You've served us well today.” In it through tears, and then smoothed it
any trouble Old Briton's comfort was in over his great fist, and came nearer to
feeling a stout wall of flesh around him. the fire, and silence fell upon them all.
Bondo sat down. Then he and Briton At last Dame Briton said, beginning
helped each other explain the course stoutly, but ending with a sob, “ Has any
taken by themselves and the other boat- body seen poor Merlyn's wife ? Who'll
men that day, and they talked of what tell her ? Oh ! oh ! ”
they would do on the morrow ; but they " I will go tell her that Clarice found
failed to comfort Clarice, or to awaken the cap,” said Bondo Emmins, rising.
in her any hope. She knew that in re- Clarice sat like one in a stupor,—but
ality they had no hope themselves. that was no dull light shining from her
• They will never come back ," said eyes. Still she seemed deaf and dumb ;
she. “ You will never find them . ” for, when Bondo baile her good -night,
She spoke so calmly that her father she did not answer him , nor give the
was deceived. If this was her convic- slightest intimation that she was aware
tion , it would be safe to speak his own . of what passed around her.
“ The tide may bring the poor fellows But when he was gone, and her father
in ,” said he . said, “ Come, Clarice, —now for bed,
At these words the cap which the poor you'll wake the earlier,” — she instantly
girl held fell from her hand. She spoke arose to act on his suggestion.
no more . No word or cry escaped her, lle followed her to the door of her
-not by a look did she acknowledge that little chamber and lingered there a mo
there was community in this grief,-as ment. Ile wanted to say something for
solitary as if she were alone in the uni- comfort, but had nothing to say ; so he
verse, she sat gazing into the fire. She turned away in silence, and drank a pint
was not overcome by things external, of grog.
tangible, as she had been when she sat
alone out on the sea -beach at the Point. IV.
The world in an instant seemed to sink Boydo EMMINS was not a native of
out of her vision, and time from her con- Diver's Bay. Only during the past three
sciousness ; her soul set out on a search or four years had he lived among the fish
in which her mortal sense had failed , crmen . He called the place his home,
and here no arm of Aesh could help but now and then indications of restless
her. ness escaped him , and seemed to promise
“ I shall find him," she said , in a whis- years of wandering, rather than a life of
#
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 695

patient, contented industry. Ile and ways endeavoring to bring the outer
Luke Merlyn were as unlike as any two world into harmony with what he found
young men that ever fished in the same within. A fine time he had of it, persist
bay. Luke was as firin , constant, re- ently laboring to make a victim of him
liable, from the day when he first man- self to himself !
aged a net, as any veteran whose gray People praised Clarice Briton, and
hairs are honorable . Emmins flashed now and then Eminins looked that way,
here and there like a wandering star ; and saw that the girl, indeed, was well
and whatever people might say of him enough. He despised Luke, and Clarice
when he was out of sight, he had the art seemed a very proper match for him.
of charming them to admiration while But while Bondo Emmins was managing
they were under his personal influence. in his.own way, and cherishing the fecl
Ile was lavish with his money ; alınost ing be had against Luke, by seeking to
every cabin had a gift from him. He prove himself the braver and more skil
could talk forever, and with many was a ful fellow, Clarice was growing older in
true oracle. Though he worked regu- years and in love, her soul was growing
larly at his busiuess, work seemed turned brighter, her heart was getting lighter,
to play when he took it in hand. Ile her mind clearer, -her womanhood was
could shout so as to be heard across the unfolding in a certain lovely manner that
ocean , —so thic children thought; he told was discernible to other eyes than those
stories better than any ; and at the signal of Luke Merlyn. Luke said it was the
of his laugliter it seemed as if the walls ring that wrought the change,—that he
themselves would shake to pieces. When could see its light all around her,—that it
.

he bit on a device, it was strange indeed had a charm of which they could know
if he did not succeed in executing it ; nothing save by its results, for its secret
and no one was the wiser for the mortifi- had perished with its owner in the sea .
cation and inward displeasure of the man , Hlis mermaid he would sometimes call
when he failed in any enterprise. her,-and declared that often, by that
When Emmins came to Diver's Bay mysterious pearly light, he saw Clarice
Clarice Briton was but a child, yet al- when far out at sea, and that at any time
ready the promised wife of Luke Mer- by two words he could bring her to him.
lyn . If this fact was made known to She knew the words,—they were as dear
him , as very probably it was, Clarice was to her as to him .
not a girl to excite his admiration or win While Clarice was thus unfolding to
his love. But as time passed on, Em- this loveliness through lore, Bondo Em
mins found that he was not the only man mins suddenly saw her as if for the first
in Diver's Bay ; of all men to regard as time. The vision was to him as surpris
a rival, there was Luke Merlyn ! Luke, ing as if the ring had indeed a power of
who went quietly about his business, in- enchantment, and it had been thrown
terfering with no one, careful, brave, ex- around him . He was as active and as
act, had aa firm place among the people, resolute in attempting to persuade him
which might for a time be overshaulowed , self that all this was nothing to him as he
but from which he could not be moved. was active and resolute in other endeav
Two or three times Bondo Emmins stum- ors ,—but he was not as successful as he
bled against that impregnable position, supposed he should be. For it was not
and found that he must take himself out enough that Emmins should laugh at
of the way. A sınall jealousy, a sharp himself, and say that the pretty couple
rivalry, which no one suspected, quietly were meant for each other. Now and
sprang up in his mind, and influenced then, by accident, he obtained a glimpse
his conduct; and he was not one who of Clarice's happy heart ; the pearl- like
ever attempted to subưlue or destroy what secret of their love , which was none the
he found within him , -he was instead al- less a secret because everybody knew
 696 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ April,
that Luke and Clarice were to be mar- ship. In the cabin he had always a wel
ried some day, would sometimes of itself come, and Dame Briton gave him her
unexpectedly give some token, which he entire confidence .
it seemed , could better appreciate than Luke did not fear, -he had once ad
any one beside the parties concerned. mired the man ; and because he was a
When some such glimpse was obtain- peace-maker by nature, and could him
ed, soine such token received, Bondo self keep the peace, he never took any
Emmins would retire within himself to of Bondo's scathing speech in anger nor
a most gloony seclusion ; there was a remembered it against him . Usually he
world which had been conquered, and joined in the laugh, unless some brave,
therein he had no foothold . If Clarice manly word were required ; honorable
wore the pearl in her bosom , on Luke's in his nature , he could not be always
head was a crown ,—and Bondo Emmins jealous in maintaining that of which he
just hated him for that. felt so secure .
But he never thought of a very easy If Clarice did not penetrate the cause ,
method by which he might have escaped she clearly saw the fact that Bondo Em
the trouble of lis jealousy. The great mins had no love for Luke. She might
highway of ocean was open before him , wonder at it, but Luke suffered no loss in
and millions of men beside Luke Mer- consequence,—it was rather to bis praise,
Tyn were in the world, millions of wom- she thought, that this was so . And she
en beside Clarice Briton. No ! Diver's remembered the disputes between the
Bay ,—and a score of people, —and a young men which she had chanced to
thought that smelt like brimstone, and hear, only to decide again, as she had
fiery enough to burn through the soul often decided , in favor of Luke's justice
that tried to keep it,—this for him ; - and truth .
fishing, --making bargains, - visiting at When the time of great trouble came,
Old Briton's, — making presents to the and this man was going out with her
dane,-telling stories, singing songs by father in search of Merlyn and his son ,
that fireside, and growing quieter by her impulse, had she acted on it, would
every other ,—that was the way he did have prevented him. He looked so
it ; —cured himself of jealousy ? No ! strong, so proud, in spite of his solemn
made himself a fool. face ! He looked so full of life, she
Old Briton liked this young man ; he could not endure to think that his eyes
coului appreciate his exceliences even might discover the dead boly of poor
better than he could those of Luke ; there Luke.
were some points of resemblance between When she came home and found that
them . Emmins was as careless of money, he had returned with her father, before
as indifferent to growing rich, as Briton her, on the evening of that day of vain
ever was ; the virtues of the youth were search for Merlyn and his son, a strange
not such as ever reproached the vices of satisfaction came to Clarice for a mo
the veteran . They could make boister- ment,--touched her heart and passed , -
ous merriment in each other's company . was gone as it came. When she said,
Briton's praise was never lacking when " I shall find him," conviction, as well as
Bondo's name was mentioned. He ac- determination, was in the words,-and.

cepteel service of the youth, and the two more beside than entered the cars of
were half the time working in partner- those that heard her.

( To be continued .)
1858.] The Story of Karin . 697

THE STORY OF KARIN.

A DANISH LEGEND.

Karix the fair , Karin the gay,

She came on the morn of her bridal day,
She came to the mill-pond clear and bright,
And viewed hersel' in the morning light.

“ And oh ," she cried , " that my bonny brow

May ever be white and smooth as now !
“ And oh , my hair, that I love to braid ,
Be yellow in sunshine, and brown in shade !

" And oh, my waist, sae slender and fine,

May it never need yirdle louger than mine ! ”

She lingered and laughed o'er the waters clear,

When sudden she starts, and shrieks in fear :

* Oh , what is this face, sae laidly old,

That looks at my side in the waters cold ? ”
She tums around to view the bank ,
And the osier willows dark and dank ;

And from the fern she sces arise

An aged crone wi' awsome eyes.

“ Ha ! ha ! ” she laughed, " ye're a bonny bride !

See how ye'll fare gin the New Year tide !
“ Ye'll wear a robe sac blithely gran ',
An ell-long girdle canna span.
“ When twal-months three shall pass away,
Your berry -brown hair shall be streaked wi' gray .

“ And gin ye be mither of bairnies nine,

Your brow shall be wrinkled and dark as mine."

Karin she sprang to her feet wi' speed,

And clapped her hands abune her head :

“ I pray to the saints and spirits all

That never a child may me mither call ! ”
The crone drew near, and the crone she spake :
“ Nine times flesh and banes shall achc.
698 [ April,
The Story of Karin.
“ Laidly and awsome ye shall wane
Wi' toil, and care , and travail-pain ."

“ Better ,” said Karin , “ lay ine low,

Aud sink for aye in the water's flow ! ”

The crone raised her withered hand on high,

And showed her a tree that stood hard by.

“ And take of the bonny fruit, ” she said,

“ And eat till the seeds are dark and red.

“ Count them less, or count them more ,

Nine times you shall number o'er ;

“ And when cach number you shall speak,

Cast seed by seed into the lake.”
Karin she ate of the fruit sae fine ;
' Twas mellow as sand, and sweet as brine.

Seed by sced she let them fall;

The waters rippled over all.
But ilka seed as Karin threw ,
Uprose a bubble to her view ,
Uprose a sigh from out the lake,
As though a baby's heart did break.

Twice nine years are come and gone ;

Karin the fair she walks her lone.

She sees around , on ilka side,

Maiden and mither, wife and bride.

Wan and pale her bonny brow ,

Sunken and sad her eyelids now.

Slow her step, and heavy her breast,

And never an arm whervon to rest.

The old kirk -porch when Karin spied,

The postern -door was open wide.
“ Wae's me ! ” she said, “ I'll enter in
And shrive me from my every sin.”

' Twas silence all within the kirk ;

The aisle was empty, chill, and mirk.
1858.] The Story of Karin . 699

The chancel-rails were black and bare ;

Nae priest, nae penitent was there.

Karin knelt, and her prayer she said ;

But her heart within her was heavy and dead.
ller prayer fell back on the cold gray stonc ;
It would not rise to heaven alone .

Darker grew the darksome aisle,

Colder felt her heart the while.

“ Wae's me ! ” she cried, " what is my sin ?

Never I wrongèd kith nor kin.
“ But why do I start and quake wi' fear
Lest I a dreadful doom should hear ?

“ And what is this light that seems to fall

On the sixth command upon the wall ?
“ And who are these I see arise
And look on ine wi' stony eyes ?

“ A shadowy troop, they flock sae fast

The kirk-yard may not hold the last.
66
- Young and old of ilk degree,
Bairns, and bairnies' bairns, I sec.

“ All I look on either way,

6
• Mother, mother ! ' seein to say .

• We are souls that might have been ,

But for your vanity and sin.
••• We, in numbers multiplied,
Might have lived , and loved, and died,
Might have served the Lord in this, -
Might have met thy soul in bliss.

6 • Mourn for us, then, while you pray,

Who might have been, but never may !' "
Thus the voices died away,
“ Might have been , but never may ! "
Karin she left the kirk no more ;
Never she passed the postern -door.

They found her dead at the vesper toll ;

May Heaven in mercy rest her soul !
700 The Abbé de l Épée. [ April,

THE ABBÉ DE L'ÉPÉE.

It was well said, by one who has him- intercourse with their fellow -inen , and
self been a leader in one of the great consigned alike by the philosopher's dic
philanthropic enterprises of the day, * tuin and the theologian's decree to the
that, “ if the truthtul history of any in- idiot's life and the idiot's destiny.
vention were written, we should find It was to such a work that the Abbé
concerned in it the thinker, who dreams, de l'Épée consecrated his life. But he
without reaching the means of putting his did more than this ; he, too, was a discov
imaginings in practice, the mathema- crer , and to his mind was revealed, in all
-

tician, who estimates justly the forces at its fulness and force, that great principle
coinmand, in their relation to each other, which lies at the 'basis of the system
but who forgets to proportion them to of instruction which he initiated, " that
the resistance to be encountered ,-and so there is no more necessary or natural
on, through the thousand intermediates connection between abstract ideas and
between the dream and the perfect idea, the articulate sounds which strike the
till one comes who combines the result car, than there is between the same
of the labor of all his predecessors, and ideas and the written characters which
gives to the invention new life, and with address themselves to the eye.” It was
it his name. ” this principle, derided by the many,
Such was the history of the movement dimly perceived by the few, which led
for the education of deaf-mutes. There to the development of the sign -language,
had been a host of dreamy thinkers, who the means which God had appointed to
had invented, on paper, processes for the unlock the darkened understanding of
instruction of these unfortunates, -men the deaf-mute, but which man , in his
like Carılan, Bonet, Amman, Dalgar- self-sufliciency and blindness, bad over
no, and Lana - Terzi, whose theories, in looked.
after years, proved seeds of thought to It is interesting to trace the history of
more practical minds. There had been such a man ,—to know something of his
men who had experimented on the sub- childhood ,-to learn under what influ
ject till they were satisfied that the deaf- ences he was reared, to what temptations
mute could be taught, but who lacked exposed,—to see the guiding hand of
the nerve, or the philanthropy, to ap- Providence shaping his course, subject
ply the results they had attained to ing him to the discipline of trial, thwart
the general instruction of the deaf and ing his most cherished projects, crushing
duinb, or who carefully concealed their his fondlest hopes, and all, that by these
processes, that they might leave them as manifold crosses he may be the better
beir -looms to their families ;-among the prepared for the place for which God
former maybe reckoned Pedro de Ponce, has destined him . We regret that so lit
Wallis, and Pietro da Castro ; among tle is recorded of this truly great and
the latter, Pereira and Braid wood . good man , but we will lay that little
Yet there was wanting the man of before our readers.
earnest philanthropic spirit and practical Charles MICHEL DE L’ÉPÉE was
tact, who should glean from all these born at Versailles, November 5th, 1712.
whatever of good there was in their the- His father, who held the post of Architect
ories, and apply it efficiently in the ed- to the King, in an age remarkable above
ucation of those who through all the any other in French history for the prev
generations since the flood had been alence of immorality, which even the
dwellers in the silent land, cut off from refineinent and pretended sanctity of the
# M. Edouard Seguin . court and nobility could not disguise,
1858.] The Abbé de r Épée.. 701

was a man of decp piety and purity of mitted to the diaconate , he was insult
character . Amid the lust, selfishness, ingly told by his superior, that he need
and hypocrisy of the age, he constantly not aspire to any higher order, for it
sought to impress upon the minds of his should not be granted.
children the importance of truthfulness, It was with a saddened heart that he
the moderation of desire , reverence for found himself thus compelled to forego
God , and love for their fellow -men . long cherished hopes of usefulness. With
To the young Charles Michel compli- that glowing imagination which charac
ance with the behests of such a parent terized him even in old age, he had look
was no difficult task ; naturally amiable ed forward to the time when , as the cu
and obedient, the instructions of his fa- rate of some retired parish, he might
ther sunk deep into his heart. At an encourage the devout, reprove and con
carly age, he manifested that love of trol the erring, and , by his example,
goodness which made every form of vice counsel, and prayers, so mould and influ
utterly distasteful to him ; and in after ence the little community, that it should
years, when he heard of the struggles seem another Eden. But an overruling
of those who, with more violent passions Providence had reserved for him a lar
or less careful parental training, sought ger field of usefulness, a more extended
to lead the Christian life, his own pure mission of mercy, and it was through the
and peaceful experience scemed to him path of trial that he was to be led to it.
wanting in perfection, because he had Regarding it as his duty to employ his
so seldom been called to contend with time, he at length determined to enter
temptation. the legal profession. He passed with
As manhood approached , and he was rapidity through the preliminary course
required to fix upon a profession, his of study, and was admitted to the bar.
heart instinctively turned toward a cler- The practice of the law was not, at that
ical life, not, as was the case with so time, in France, nor is it, indeed , now ,
many of the young priests of that day, invested with the high character attach
for its honors, its power, or its emolu- ing to it in England. Its codes and
ments, but because, in that profession, rules bore the impress of a barbarous
he might the better fulfil the earnest age ; and among its practitioners, fraud,
desire of his heart to do good to his artifice, and chicanery were the rule ,
fellow-men. He accordingly commenced and honesty the rare and generally un
the study of theology. Here all went fortunate exception.
well for a time; but when he sought ad- For such a profession the pure-mind
mission to deacon's orders, he was mct ed De l'Épée found himself entirely un
by unexpected opposition. To, a pious fitted, and, abandoning it with loathing,
mind, like that of young De l'Épée, the his eyes and heart were again directed
consistent and Scriptural views of the toward the profession of his choice, and,
Jansenists, not less than their pure and this time, apparently not in vain . His
virtuous lives, were highly attractive, and early friend, M. de Bossuet, had been
through the influence of a clerical friend , elevated to the see of Troyes, and, know
a nephew of the celebrated Bossuet, he ing his piety and zcal, offered him a can
had been led to examine and adopt onry in his cathedral, and admitted him
them . The diocesan to whom he ap- to priest's orders. The desire of bis
plied for deacon's orders was a Jesuit, heart was now gratified, and he entered
and, before he would admit him , he re- upon his new duties with the utmost
quired him to sign a formula of doctrine ardor. " In all the diocese of Troyes,”
which was abhorrent alike to his reason says one of his contemporaries, “there
and his conscience. He refused at once, was not so faithful a priest.”
a

and, on his refusal, his application was But his hopes were soon to be blasted .
rejected ; and though subsequently ad- Monseigneur de Bossuet died, and, as the
702 The Abbé de Épée. [April,
Jansenist controversy was at its height charge, I would do all for them that I was
his old enemies, the Jesuits, exerted their able .' ”
influence with the Archbishop of Paris, It was in 1755 that the Abbé de l'Épée
and procured an interdict, prohibiting thus entered upon his great mission. Six
him from ever again exercising the func- years before, Jacob Rodriguez de Perei
tions of the priesthood. ra had come from Spain , and exhibited
A sererer blow could scarcely have some deaf and dumb pupils whoin he
fallen upon himn . lle sought not for hon- had taught, before the Academy of Sci
or, he asked not for fame or worldly re- ences. They were able to speak indif
nown ; he had only desired to be useful, ferently well, and had attained a modl
to do good to his fellow -men ; and now , erate degree of scientific knowledge.
just as liis hopes were budding into frui- Pereira himself was a man of great learn
tion, just as some results of his faithful ing, of the most agreeable and fascinating
labors were beginning to appear, all manners, and possessed, in a high degree,
were cut off by the kcen breath of ad- that tact and address in which the Span
versity ish Jews have never been surpassed.
It was while suffering from depression, He soon made a very favorable impres
at his unjust exclusion from the duties of sion upon the court, and led a pleasant
his calling, that his attention was first life in the society of the literary men of
directed to the unfortunate class to whom the age. During his residence in France ,
he was to be the future cvangelist, or he taught some five or six mutes of high
bringer of good tidings. Bébian thus re- rank to speak and to make considerable
lates the incident which led him to un- attainments in science, -charging for this
dertake the instruction of the deaf and service most princely fees, and at the
dumb : same time binding his pupils to perfect
" He happened one day to enter a secrecy in regard to his methods, which
house, where he found two young females it was his intention to bequeathc to his
engaged in needlework , which seemed to family. This intention was thwarted,
occupy their whole attention. He add- however, soon after his death , by a fire
dressed them , but received no answer. which destroyed nearly all his papers,
Somewhat surprised at this, he repeated and to this day his method has remain
his question ; but still there was no re- ed a secret, unknown even to his chil
ply ; they did not even lift their cyes dren . It is certain, however, that he
from the work before them . In the made no use of the sign -language, though
midst of the Abbe's wonder at this ap- there is some evidence that he invented
parent rudeness, their mother entered and practised a system of syllabic dac
the room , and the mystery was at once ty lology . Of this, the only successful
explained. With tears she informed him effort which, up to that time, had been
that her daughters were deaf and dumb ; made in France, to teach deaf-mutes, it
that they had received, by means of pic- is obvious that De l'Épée could have
tures, a little instruction from Father known nothing, save the fact that it de
Farnin , a benevolent ecclesiastic of the monstrated the capacity of some of this
oriler of “ Christian Brothers, " in the class to receive instruction . It is, indeed ,
neighborhood ; but that he was now dead , certain , from his own statements, that,
and her poor children were left without at the time of commencing his labors, he
any one to aid their intellectual prog- had no knowledge of any works on the
ress.- · Believing,' said the Abhé, that subject. He had somewhere pieked up
these two unfortunates would live and the manual alphabet invented by Bonet
die in ignorance of religion , if I made no in 1620 ; and in subsequent years he de
effort to instruct them , my heart was rived some advantages from the works of
filled , with compassion, and I proinised, Cardan, Bonet, Amman, Wallis, and Dal
that, if they were committed to my garno.
1858.] The Abbé de l'Épée. 703

It was well for the deaf and dumb that While Pereira, in the liberal compensa
he entered upon his work thus untram- tion he received from French nobles for
melled by any preconceived theory ; for the instruction of their njute children,
he was thus prepared to adopt, without laid the foundation of that fortune by
prejudice, whatever might facilitate the means of which his grandsons are now
great object for which he labored . “ I enabled to rank with the most eminent of
have not,” he said, in a letter to Pereira, French financiers, De l'épée devoted his
in which he challenged an open compari- time and his entire patrimony to the edu
son of their respective systems of instruc- cation of indigent deaf-mutes. His school,
tion, promising to adopt his, should it which was soon quite large, was conduct
prove to be better than his own, - “ I ed solely at liis own expense , and, as
have not the silly pride of desiring to his fortune was but moderate, he was
be an inventor; I only wish to do some- compelled to practise the most careful
thing for the benefit of the deaf-mutes economy' ; yet he would never receive
of all coming ages.” gifts from the wealthy, nor admit to his
We have already adverted to the great instructions their deaf and dumb children.
principle which lay at the foundation of “ It is not to the rich ,” he would say,
his system of instruction. The corollary " that I have devoted myself ; it is to the
deduced from this, that the idea was sub- poor only. Had it not been for these,
stantive, and had an existence separate I should never have attempted the edu
from and independent of all words, cation of the deaf and dumb."
written or spoken, was a startling propo- In 1780, he was waited upon by the
sition in those days, however harmless we ambassailor of the Empress of Russia,
may now regard it. But, convinced of who congratulated him on his success,
its trutlı, De l’Epée set to himself the and tendered him , in her name, valuable
problem of discovering how this idea gitts. “ Mr. Ambassador," was the reply
could be presented to the mind of the of the noble old man, “ I never receive
mute without words; and in their ges- money ; but have the goodness to say to
tures and signs he found his problem her Majesty, that, if my labors have
solved. Henceforth , the way, though seemed to her worthy of any considera
long and tedious, was plain before him. tion, I ask , as an especial favor, that she
To extend , amplify, and systematize this will send to me from her dominions some
language of signs was his task . Ilow ignorant deaf and dumb child, that I may
well he accomplished his work, the rec- instruct him . ”
ords of Deaf and Dunb Institutions, in When Joseph II., of Austria, visited
Europe and America, testify: Others Paris, he sought out De l'Épée, and of
hare entered into his labors and greatly fired him the revenues of one of his
cnlarged the range of sign -expression , estates. To this liberal proposition the
modificd and improved, perhaps, many Abbé replied : “ Sire, I am now an old
of its forms; but, because Lord Rosse's man . If your Majesty desires to confer
telescope exceeds in power and range any gift upon the deaf and dumb, it is
the little three -foot tube of Galileo Gal- not my head, already bent towards the
ilei, shall we therefore despise the Italian grave, that should receive it, but the good
astronomer ? To say that his work, or work itself. It is worthy of a great
that of the Abbé De l’Epée, was not prince to preserve whatever is useful to
perfect, is only to say that they were mankind." The Emperor, acting upon
mortals like ourselves. his suggestion, soon after scnt one of his
But it is not only, or mainly, as a phi- ecclesiasties to Paris, who, on receiving
losopher, that we would present the the necessary instruction from De l'Épée,
Abbé De l'Épée to our readers. Ile was established at Vienna the first national
far more than this ; he was, in the high- institution for the deaf and dumb.
est sense of the word, a philanthropist. A still more striking instance of the
704 The Abbé De tÉpée. [ April,
self-denial to which his love for his little the car unsealed, and they would be en
flock prompted him is related by Bébian. abled to enjoy the music as well as the
During the severe winter of 1788, the glories of heaven. Thus quieted, with
Abbé, already in his seventy -seventh chastened grief came holy aspiration ;
year, denied himself a fire in his apart , and it is not unreasonable to hope
ment, and refused to purchase fuel for that the world of bliss, in after years,
this purpose, lest he should exceed the witnessed the meeting of many of
moderate sum which necessarily limited these poor children with their sainted
the annual expenditure of his establish- teacher.
ment. All the remonstrances of his It is interesting to observe the humility
friends were unavailing ; his pupils at of such a man . The praises lavished on
length cast themselves at his feet, and him seemed not in any way to elate him ;
with tears besought him to allow himself and he invariably refused any commenda
this indulgence, for their sake, if not for tion for liis labors : " He that planteth is
his own. Their importunities finally pre- nothing, neither he that watereth, but
vailed ; but for a long time he manifested God , who giveth the increase," was his
the greatest regret that he had yieldled , reply to one who congratulated him on
often saying ,mournfully, " My poor chil- the success which had attended his la
dren, I have wronged you of a hundred bors.
crowns ! ” With one incident more we must
That this deep and abiding affection close this “ record of a good man's life.”
was fully reciprocated by those whom Some years after the opening of his
he had rescued from a lite of helpless school for deaf-mutes, a deaf and dumb
wretchedness was often manifested. He boy, who had been found wandering in
always called them his children, and , in- the streets of Paris, was brought to him .
deed, his relation to them had more of With that habitual piety which was char
the character of the parent than of the acteristic of him , De l’Epée received the
teacher. On one occasion, not long be- boy as a gift from Heaven, and accord
fore his decease, in one of his familiar con- ingly named him Theodore. The new
versations with them , he let fall a remark comer soon awakened an unusual in
which implied that his end might be ap- terest in the mind of the good Abbé.
proaching. Though he had otten before Though dressed in rags when found, bis
spoken of death, yet the idea that he manners and habits showed that he had
could thus be taken from them had nev- been reared in refinement and luxury.
er entered their minds, and a surlden But, until he had received some educa
cry of anguish told low terrible to them tion , he could give no account of himself;
was the thought. Pressing around him , and the Abbé, though satisfied that he
with sobs and wailing, they laid hold of had been the victim of some foul wrong,
his garments, as if to detain him from held his peace, till the mental develop
the last long journey. Himself affect- ment of his protéyé should enable him to
ed to tears by these tokens of their love describe his early home. Years passed,
for him, the good Abbé succeeded, at and, as each added to his intelligence,
length, in calming their grief; he spoke young Theodore was able to call to mind
to them of death as being, to the gooil, more and more of the events of child
only the gate which divides us from hood . Ile remembered that his ances
heaven ; reminded them that the separa tral home had been one of great mag .
tion, if they were the friends of God, nificence, in a large city, and that he
though painful, would be temporary ; that had been taken thence, stripped of his
he should go before them , and await their rich apparel, clothed in rays, and left
coming, and that, once reunited, no fur- in the streets of Paris. The Abbé de
ther separation would ever occur ; while termined, at once, to attempt to restore
there the tongue would be unloosed, his protégé to the rights of which he had
1858.) The Albé de l'Épée. 705

been so cruelly defrauded ; but, being were creditable to the National Assem
himself too infirm to attempt the jour- bly, and the people whom it represented ,
ney, he sent the youth, with his stew- yet we cannot but remember the troub
ard, and a fellow-pupil named Didier, lous times that followed, - tiines in which
to make the tour of all the cities of no public service, no private goodness,
France till they should find the home neither the veneration due to age, the
of Theodore. Long and weary was their delicacy of womanhood , nor the winsome
journey, and it was not till after having belplessness of infancy, was any pro
visited almost all of the larger cities, that tection against the insensate vengeance
they found that the young mute recog- of a maddened people; and remembering
nized in Toulouse the city of his birth . this, we cannot regret that he whose life
Each of its principal streets was evident- had been so peaceful was laid in a quiet
ly familiar to liim , and at length, with a grave ere the coming of the tempest.
sudden cry , he pointed out a splendid It is but justice, however, to the
mansion as his former home. It was
French people to say, that no name in
found to be the palace of the Count de their history is beard with more vener
Solar. On subsequent inquiry, it ap- ation, or with more profound demonstra
peared that the heir of the estate had tions of love and gratitude, than that of
been deaf and dumb ; that some years the Abbé de l'Épée. In 1843, the citi
before he had been taken to Paris, and zens of Versailles, his birth -place, erected
was said to have died there . The dates a bronze statue in his honor ; and the
corresponded cxactly with the appear highest dignitaries of the state, amid
ance of young Theodore in Paris. As the acclamations of assembled thousands,
soon as possible, the Abbé and the eulogized his memory. In 1855 , the
Duke de Penthièvre commenced a law- centennial anniversary of the establish
suit, which resulted in the restoration of ment of his school for deaf-mutes was
Theodore to his title and property. The celebrated at Paris, and was attended
defeated party appealed to the Parlia- by delegations from most of the Deaf
ment, and , by continuing the case till and Dumb Institutions of Europe.
after the death of the Abbé and the But sixty -eight years have elapsed
Duke, succeeded in obtaining a reversal since the death of this noble philanthro
of the decision , and the declaration that pist, and, already, more than two hun
the claimant was an impostor. Stung dred institutions for the deaf and dumb
with disappointment at the blighting of have been established, on the system
his hopes, young Theodore enlisted in projected by him and improved by his
successors ; and tens of thousands of
the army, and was slain in his first battle.
The Abbé de l'Épée died at Paris on mutes throughout Christendom , in con- .
the 23d of December, 1789, in the sev- sequence of his generous and self-deny
enty -eighth year of his age. Had he ing zeal, have been trained for useful
been spared two years longer, he would ness in this life , and many of them , we
have seen his school, the object of his hope, prepared for a blissful hereafter.
fond cares, adopted by the government, To all these the name of the Abbé de
and decreed a national support. But l’Épée has been one cherished in their
though this act, and the accompanying heart of hearts ; and, through all the fu
vote , which declared that it was “ done ture, wherever the understanding of the
in honor of Charles Michel de l'Épée, a deaf-mute shall be enlightened by in
man who deserved well of his country, ” struction , bis memory shall be blessed .

VOL . I. 45
706 Who is the Thief ? [April,

WHO IS THE THIEF ?

( Extracted from the Correspondence of the London Police .)

FROM CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE ,
OF TUE DETECTIVE POLICE , TO
SERGEANT BULMER, OF THE SAME
FORCE.
not mention except under our breaths.
He has been a lawyer's clerk ; and he
looks, to my mind, rather a mean , un
derhand sample of that sort of man .
-

London , 4th July, 18, According to bis own account,—by the

bye, I forgot to say that he is wonderfully
SERGEANT BULMER, conceited in his opinion of himself, as
This is to inform you that you are well as mean and underhand to look at,
wanted to assist in looking up a case of -according to his own account, hic leaves
importance, which will require all the his old trade and joins ours of his own
attention of an experienced member of free will and preference. You will no
the force. The matter of the robbery more believe that than I do. My notion
on which you are now engaged you will is, that he has managed to ferret out
please to shift over to the young man some private information , in connection
who brings you this letter. You will tell with the affairs of one of his niaster's
him all the circumstances of the casc , clients, which makes him rather an awk
just as they stand ; you will put him up ward customer to keep in the office for
to the progress you have made (if any) the future, and which, at the same time,
towards detecting the person or persons gives him hold enough over his employer
by whom the money has been stolen ; to make it dangerous to drive bim into
and you will leave him to make the a corner by turning him away. I think
best he can of the matter now in your the giving him this unhcard -of chance
bands. He is to have the whole respon- among us is, in plain words, pretty much
sibility of the case, and the whole credit like giving him hush -money to keep him
of his success, if he brings it to a proper quiet. However that may be, Mr. Mat
issue.
thew Sharpin is to have the case now in
So much for the orders that I am your hands ; and if he succeeds with it,
desired to communicate to you. A word he pokes his ugly nose into our office,
in your ear, next, about this new man as sure as fate . You have heard tell of
who is to take your place. His name is some sad stuff they have been writing
Matthew Sharpin ; and between our- lately in the newspapers, about improv
selves, Sergeant, I don't think niuch of ing the efficiency of the Detective Police
him. Ile has not served his time among by mixing up a sharp lawyer's clerk or
the rank and file of the force. You and two along with them. Well, the experi
I mounted up, step by step, to the places ment is now going to be tried ; and Mr.
we now fill ; but this stranger, it seems, Matthew Sharpin is the first lucky man
is to have the chance given him of dash- who has been pitched on for the pur
ing into our office at one jump - suppos- pose. We shall see how this precious
ing ihe turns out strong enough to take move succeeds. I put you up to it, Ser
it. You will naturally ask me how he geant, so that you may not stand in your
comes by this privilege. I can only tell own light by giving the new man any
you, that he has some uncommonly cause to complain of you at bead -quar
strong interest to back him in certain ters, and remain yours,
high quarters, which you and I had better FRANCIS TIEAKSTONE.
1858. ] Who is the Thief ? 707
FROM MR . MATTHEW SHARPIX TO well knew the position we stood in to
CUIEF INSPECTOR TIIEAKSTOXE.
wards each other, when I sent you with
my letter to Sergeant Bulmer. There
London, 5th July, 184 , was not the least need to repeat it in
DEAR SIR, writing. Be so good as to employ your
Ilaving now been favored with the pen , in future, on the business actually
necessary instructions from Sergeant in hand. You have now three separate
Bulmer, I beg to remind you of certain matters on which to write me. First,
directions which I have received, relat- you have to draw up a statement of your
ing to the report of my future proceed- instructions received from Sergeant Bul
ings, which I am to prepare for examina- mer, in order to show us that nothing
tion at head -quarters. has escaped your memory, and that you
The document in question is to be are thoroughly acquainted with all the
addressed to you. It is to be not only circumistances of the case which has been
a daily report, but an hourly report as entrusted to you. Secondly, you are to
well, when circumstances may require it. inform me what it is you propose to do.
All statements which I send to you, in Thirdly, you are to report every inch
this way , you are, as I understand , ex- of your progress, (if you make any,) from
pected to examine carefully before you day to day, and , if need be, from hour
seal them up and send them in to the high- to hour as well. This is your duty.
er authorities. The object of my writ- As to what my duty may be, when I
ing and of your examining what I have want you to remind me of it, I will write
written is, I am informed, to give me, as and tell you so . In the mean time I
an untried hand, the benefit of your ad remain yours,
vice, in case I want it ( which I venture Fraxcis THEAKSTONE .
to think I shall not) at any stave of my
proceedings. As the extraordinary cir
cumstances of the case on which I am FROM MR . MATTHEW SHARPIN TO

now engaged make it impossible for me CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE.

to absent myself from the place where
the robbery was committed, until I have London, 6th July, 18.
Sir,
maile some progress towards discovering
the thief, I am necessarily precluded You are rather an elderly perso
from consulting you personally. Hence and, as such, naturally inclined to be a
the necessity of my writing down the little jealous of men like me, who are in
various details, which miglit, perhaps, be the prime of their lives and their facul
better communicated by word of mouth. ties. Under these circumstances, it is
This, if I am not mistaken, is the position my duty to be considerate towards you,
in which we are now placed. I state my and not to bear too hardly on your small
own impressions on the subject, in writ- failings. I decline, therefore, altogether,
ing, in oriler that we may clearly under- to take offence at the tone of your let
stand each other at the outset,-and have ter ; I give you the full benefit of the
the honor to remain your obedient ser- natural generosity of my nature ; I
vant, MATTHEW SHARPIN . sponge the very existence of your surly
communication out of my memory ; in
FROM CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE
short, Chief Inspector Thcakstone, I for
TO MR . MATTHEW SHARPIN .
give you, and proceed to business.
My first duty is to draw up a full
London, 5th July, 18 statement of the instructions I have re
Sir, ceived from Sergeant Bulmer. Here
You have begun by wasting time, ink, they are at your service, according to
and paper. We both of us perfectly my version of them .
708 Who is the Thief ? [ April,
At Number Thirteen, Rutherford time. Mr. Jay (who lives by supplying
Street, Soho, there is a stationer's shop. the newspapers with short paragraphs
It is kept by one Mr. Yatman . He is a relating to accidents, offences, and brief
married man , but has no family . Be- records of remarkable occurrences in
sides Mr. and Mrs. Yatman, the other in- general,—who is, in short, what they call
mates of the house are a lodger, a young a penny -a -liner) told his landlord that
single man named Jay, who occupies he had been in the city that day, and
the front room on the second floor, — & heard unfavorable rumors on the subject
shopman, who sleeps in one of the attics, of the joint-stock banks. The rumors
—and a servant-of-all-work , whose bed is to which he alluded had already reached
in the back -kitchen . Once a week a the ears of Mr. Yatman from other quar
charwoman comes to help this servant. ters ; and the confirmation of them ly
These are all the persons who, on ordi- his lodger had such an effect on his
nary occasions, have means of access to mind ,-predisposed, as it was, to alarm ,
the interior of the house, placed, as a by the experience of his former losses,
matter of course , at their disposal. that he resolved to go at once to the
Mr. Yatman has been in business for bank and withdraw his deposit. It was
many years, -carrying on his affairs then getting on toward the end of the
prosperously enough to realize a hand- afternoon ; and he arrived just in time
some independence for a person in his to receive his money before the bank
position . Unfortunately for himself, he closed.
endeavored to increase the amount of He received the deposit in bank -notes
his property by speculating. He ven- of the following amounts : - ore fifty
tured boldly in his investments, luck pound note , three twenty -pound notes,
went against him, and rather less than six ten -pound notes, and six five-pound
two years ago he found himself a poor notes. His object in drawing the money
man again. All that was savedl out of in this form was to have it ready to lay
the wreck of his property was the sum out immediately in trifling loans, on good
of two hundred pounds. security, among the small tradespeople of
Although Mr. Yatman did his best to his district, --some of whom are sorely
meet his altered circumstances, by giving pressed for the very means of existence
up many of the luxuries and comforts to at the present time. Investments of this
which he and his wife had been accus . kind seemed to Mr. Yatman to be the
tomed, he found it impossible to retrench most safe and the most profitable on
so far as to allow of putting by any which he could now venture .
money from the income produced by his He brought the money back in an
shop. The business bas been declining envelope placed in his breast pocket; and
of late years,—the cheap advertising sta- asked his shopman, on getting home, to
tioners having done it injury with the look for a small flat tin cash -box, which
public. Consequently, up to the last had not been used for years, and which,
week, the only surplus property pos as Mr. Yatinan remembered it, was ex
sessed by Mr. Yatman consisted of the actly of the right size to hold the bank
two hundred pounds which had been re- notes. For some time the'cash -box was
covered from the wreck of his fortune. searched for in vain. Mr. Yatman called
This sum was placed as a deposit in a to his wife to know if she had any idea
joint-stock bank of the highest possible where it was. The question was over
character. heard by the servant-of-all-work, who
Eight days ago, Mr. Yatman and his was taking up the tea -tray at the time,
lodger, Mr. Jay, held a conversation and by Mr. Jay, who was coming down
together on the subject of the commer- stairs on his way out to the theatre. Ul
cial difficulties, which are bampering timately the cash- box was found by the
trade in all directions at the present shopman. Mr. Yatman placed the bank
1858. ] Who is the Thief ? 709

notes in it, secured them by a padlock, and quently, if he committed the robbery, he
put the box in his coat pocket. It stuck must have gone into the bedroom purely
out of the coat pocket a very little, but on speculation.
enough to be seen . Mr. Yatman re- Speaking of the bedroom reminds me
inained at home, up stairs, all that even- of the necessity of noticing the situa
ing. No visitors called. At eleven tion of it in the house, and the means
o'clock he went to bed , and put the cash- that exist of gaining easy access to it at
box under his pillow. any hour of the night. The room in
When he and his wife woke the next question is the back room on the first
morning, the box was gone. Payment floor. In consequence of Mrs. Yatman's
of the notes was immediately stopped at constitutional nervousness on the subject
the Bank of England ; but no news of of fire, which makes her apprehend being
t! ic money has been heard of since that burnt alive in her room , in case of acci
time. dent, by the hainpering of the lock, if the
So far, the circumstances of the casekey is turned in it, her husband has never
are perfectly clear. They point unmis- been accustomed to lock the bedroom
takably to the conclusion that the rob- door. Both he and his wife are, by their
bery must have been committed by some own admission, heavy sleepers. Conse
person living in the house. Suspicion quently, the risk to be run by any evil
falls, therefore, upon the servant-of-all- disposed persons wishing to plunder the
work, upon the shopman, and upon Mr. bedroom was of the most trifling kind.
Jay. The two first knew that the cash- They could enter the room by merely
box was being inquired for by their mas- turning the handle of the door; and if
ter, but did not know what it was he they moved with ordinary caution, there
wanted to put into it. They would as- was no fear of their waking the sleepers
sume, of course , that it was money. They inside. This fact is of importance. It
both bad opportunities (the servant, when strengthens our conviction that the money
she took away the tea, —and the shopman, must have been taken by one of the in
when he came, after shutting up, to give mates of the house, because it tends to
the keys of the till to his master) of see- show that the robbery, in this case , might
ing the cash -box in Mr. Yatman's pocket, bave been committed by persons not pos
and of inferring naturally, from its posi- sessed of the superior vigilance and cun
tion there, that be intended to take it ning of the experienced thief.
into his bedroom with him at night. Such are the circumstances, as they
Mr. Jay, on the other hand, had been were related to Sergeant Bulmer, when
told , during the afternoon's conversation he was first called in to discover the
on the subject of joint-stock banks, that guilty parties, and, if possible, to recover
his landlord had a deposit of two hundred the lost bank -notes. The strictest in
pounds in one of them. He also knew quiry which he could institute failed of
that Mr. Yatman left him with the inten- producing the smallest fragment of evi
tion of drawing that money out ; and he dence against any of the persons op
heard the inquiry for the cash -box, after- whom suspicion naturally fell. Their
wards, when he was coming down stairs. language and behavior, on being inform
He must, therefore, have inferred that ed of the robbery, was perfectly consist
the money was in the house, and that the ent with the language and behavior of
caslı-box was the receptacle intended to innocent people. Sergeant Bulmer felt,
contain it. That he could have had any from the first, that this was a case for
jilea, however, of the place in which Mr. private inquiry and secret observation.
Yatman intended to keep it for the night He began by recommending Mr. and
is impossible, seeing that he went out be- Mrs. Yatman to affect a feeling of per
fore the box was found , and did not re- fect confidence in the innocence of the
turn till his landlord was in bed . Conse persons living under their roof ; and he
710 Who is the Thief ? [ April,
then opened the campaign by employing I believe you will not find an omission
himself in following the goings and com- anywhere ; and I think you will admit,
ings, and in discovering the friends, the though you are prejudiced against me,
habits, and the secrets of the maid -of-all- that a clearer statement of facts was
work . never laid before you than the statement
Three days and nights of exertion on I have now made. My next duty is to
his own part, and on that of others who tell you what I propose to do, now that
were competent to assist his investiga- the case is confided to my hands.
tions, were enough to satisfy him that In the first place, it is clearly my
there was no sound cause for suspicion business to take up the case at the point
against the girl. where Sergeant Bulmer has left it. On
He next practised the same precau- his authority, I am justified in assuming
tions in relation to the shopman. There that I have no need to trouble myself
was more difficulty and uncertainty in about the maid -of-all -work and the shop
privately clearing up this person's char- man . Their characters are now to be
acter without his knowledge, but the considered as cleared up. What re
obstacles were at last smoothed away mains to be privately investigated is the
with tolerable success ; and though there question of the guilt or innocence of Mr.
is not the same amount of certainty, in Jay. Before we give up the notes for
this case, which there was in the case lost, we must make sure, if we can , that
of the girl, there is still fair reason for he knows nothing about them .
believing that the shopnan has had noth- This is the plan that I have adopted,
ing to do with the robbery of the cash- with the full approval of Mr. and Mrs.
bo.s. Yatman, for discovering whether Mr.
As a necessary consequence of these Jay is or is not the person who has
proceedings, the range of suspicion now stolen the cash -box :
becomes limiteul to the lodger, Mr. Jay. I propose, to-day, to present myself
When I presented your letter of intro- at the house in the character of a young
duction to Sergeant Bulmer, he had al- man who is looking for longings. The
really made some inquiries on the subject back room on the second floor will be
of this young nian . The result , so far, shown to me as the room to let ; and I
has not been at all favorable. Mr. Jay's shall establish myself there to-night, as
habits are irregular ; he frequents pub- a person from the conntry, who has
lic houses, and seems to be familiarly come to Lonion to look for a situation
acquainted with a great many dissolute in a respectable shop or office. By this
characters ; he is in debt to most of the means I shall be living next to the
tradespeople whom he employs ; he has room occupied by Mr. Jay. The par
not paid his rent to Mr. Yatman for the tition between us is more lath and plas
last month ; yesterday evening he came ter. I shall make a small hole in it,
home excited by liquor, and last week near the cornice, through which I can
he was seen talking to a prize-fighter. see what Mr. Jay does in his room ,
In short, though Mr. Jay does call him- and hear every word that is said when
self aa journalist, in virtue of his penny -a- any friend happens to call on him .
line contributions to the newspapers, he Whenever he is at home, I shall be at
is a young man of low tastes, vulgar my post of observation . Whenever be
manners, and bad habits. Nothing has goes out, I shall be after him . Bv cm
yet been discovererl, in relation to him , ploving these means of watching him , I
which relounds to his credit in the small- believe I may look forward to the dis
est derree. covery of his serret — if he knows any
I have now reporteil, down to the thing about the lost bank -notes — as to a
very last details, all the particulars com- drad certainty.
municated to me by Sergeant Bulmer. What you may think of my plan of
1858.] Who is the Thief ? 711
observation I cannot undertake to say. too highly praise. Mr. Yatman is so cast
It appears to me to unite the invaluable down by bis loss, that he is quite incapa
merits of boldness and simplicity. For- ble of affording me any assistance. Mrs.
tified by this conviction, I close the pres. Yatman, who is evidently most tenderly
cnt communication with feelings of the attached to him , fuels her husband's sad
most sanguine description in regard to condition of mind even more acutely
the future, and remain your obedient than she feels the loss of the money ;
servant, Matthew SIARPLN . and is mainly stimulated to exertion by
her desire to assist in raising him from
FROM THE SAME TO TIIE SAME. the miserable state of prostration into
which he has now fallen . The money ,
7th July. Mr. Sharpin ,” she said to me yesterday
Sir, 66
evening, with tears in her eyes, " the
As you have not honored me with money may be regained by rigid clono
any answer to my last communication , I my and strict attention to business. It is
assume, that, in spite of your prejudices my husband's wretched state of mind
against me, it has produced the favorable that makes me so anxious for the discov
impression on your mind which I ven- ery of the thief. I may be wrong, but
tured to anticipate. Gratified and en- I felt hopeful of success as soon as you
couraged beyond measure by the token entered the house ; and I believe, that, if
of approval which your eloquent silence the wretch who has robbed us is to be
conveys to me, I proceed to report the found, you are the man to discover him .”
progress that has been made in the course I accepted this gratifying compliment in
of the last twenty-four hours. the spirit in which it was offered ,-firmly
I am now comfortably established next believing that I shall be found , sooner or
door to Mr. Jay ; and I am delighted later, to have thoroughly deserved it.
to say that I have two holes in the par- Let me now return to business,—that
tition , instead of one. My natural sense is to say, to my Peep -Ilole and my Pipe
of humor has led me into the pardonable Ilole.
extravagance of giving them both appro- I have enjoyed some hours of calm
priate names. One I call my Peep-Hole, observation of Mr. Jay. Though rarely
and the other my Pipe- Ilole. The name at home, as I understand from Mrs. Yat
of the first explains itself; the name of man , on ordinary occasions, he has been
the second refers to a small tin pipe, or in -doors the whole of this day. That is
suspicious, to begin with. I have to re
tube, inserted in the hole, and twisted so
that the noath of it comes close to my port, further, that he rose at a late hour
car, when I am standing at my post of this morning, (always a bad sign in a
observation. Thus, while I am looking young man,) and that he lost a great
at Mr. Jay through my Peep -Hole, I can deal of time, after he was up, in yawning
hear every word that may be spoken in and complaining to himself of headache.
his room through my Pipe-Hole. Like other debauched characters, he eat
Perfect candor—a virtue which I have little or nothing for breakfast. Ilis next
possessed from my childhood — compels proceeding was to smoke a pipe,-a dirty
me to acknowledge, before I go any clay pipe, which a gentleman would have
farther, that the ingenious notion of been ashamed to put between his lips.
adding a Pipe-Hole to my proposed When he had done smoking, he took out
Peep-IIole originated with Mrs. Yat pen, ink, and paper, and sat down to
man .
write, with a groan , -whether of remorse
This lady — aa most intelligent and
accoinplished person, simple, and yet for having taken the bank -notes, or of
distinguished , in her manners— has en- disgust at the task before him , I am un
tered into all my little plans with an en able to say . After writing a few lines,
thusiasm and intelligence which I cannot ( too far away from my Peep -Ilole to give
712 Who is the Thief ? [ April,
me a chance of reading over his shoul- on my hat and walked out also. As I
der,) he bent back in his chair, and went down stairs, I passed Mrs. Yatman
amused himself by bumming the tuncs going up. The lady has been kind
of popular songs. I recognized “ My enough to undertake, by previous ar
66
Mary Anne ,” Bobbin' Around ," and rangement between us, to search Mr.
“ Old Dog Tray,” among other melodies. Jay's room , while he is out of the way,
Whether these do or do not represent and while I am necessarily engaged in
secret signals by which be communicates the pleasing duty of following him
with his accomplices remains to be seen . wherever he goes. On the occasion to
After he had amused himself for some which I now refer, he walked straight to
time by humming, he got up and began the nearest tavern , and ordered a couple
to walk about the room , occasionally stop of mutton -chops for his dinner. I placed
ping to add a sentence to the paper myself in the next box to him, and or
on his desk . Before long, he went to dered a couple of mutton -chops for my
a locked cupboard and opened it. I dinner. Before I had been in the room
strained my eyes eagerly, in expectation a minute, a young man of highly sus
of making a discovery. I saw him take picious manners and appearance, sitting
something carefully out of the cupboard, at a table opposite, took his glass of porter
—he turned round ,—it was only a pint in his hand and joined Mr. Jay. I pre
bottle of brandy ! Having drunk some tended to be reading the newspaper, and
of the liquor, this extremely indolent rep- listened, as in duty bound, with all my
robate lay down on his bed again, and might.
in five minutes was fast asleep. “ How are you, my boy ? ” says the
After hearing him snoring for at least young man . “ Jack has been here, in
two hours, I was recalled to my Peep- quiring after you."
Hole by a knock at his door. He jumped “ Did he leave any message ? ” asks
up and opened it with suspicious activity. Mr. Jay.
A very small boy, with a very dirty face, “ Yes," says the other. “ He told me, if
walked in, said , “ Please, Sir, I've come I met with you, to say that he wished very
for copy,” sat down on a chair with his particularly to see you to -night ; and that
legs a long way from the ground, and he would give you a look -in, at Ruther
instantly fell asleep ! Mr. Jay swore an ford Street, at seven o'clock . "
oath , tied a wet towel round his head , “ All right,” says Mr. Jay. “I'll get
and, sitting down to his paper, began to back in time to see him . "
cover it with writing as fast as his fingers Upon this, the suspicious-looking young
could move the pen. Occasionally get- man finished his porter, and, saying that
ting up to dip the towel in water and tie he was rather in a hurry, took leave of
a

it on again, he continued at this employ- bis friend, (perhaps I should not be

ment for nearly three hours, —then folded wrong, if I said his accomplice ?) and
up the leaves of writing, woke the boy, left the room .
and gave them to him, with this remark- At twenty -five minutes and aa half past
able expression : “ Now , then, young six - in these serious cases it is impor
sleepy -heau , quick, march ! If you see tant to be particular about time, -Mr. Jay
the Governor, tell him to have the money finished his chops and paid his bill. At
ready for me when I call for it.” The twenty -six minutes and three-quarters,
boy grinned, and disappeared. I was I finished my chops and paid mine. In
sorely tempted to follow "sleepy -head," ten minutes more I was inside the house
but, on reflection , considered it safest still in Rutherford Street, and was received
to keep my eye on the proceedings of Mr. by Mrs. Yatman in the passage. That
Jay. charming woman's face exhibited an ex
In half an hour's time, he put on his pression of melancholy and disappoint
liat and walked out. Of course, I put ment which it quite grieved me to see.
1858.] Who is the Thief ? 713

“ I am afraid , Ma'am ," says I, “ that " What's the matter now, Jack ? says
you have not hit on any little criminating Mr. Jay.
discovery in the lodger's room ? " “ Can't you see it in my face ? ” says
She shook her head and sighed. It Jack. “ My dear fellow, delays are dan
was a soft, languid, fluttering sigh ,-- and gerous. Let us have done with sus
upon my life, it quite upsct me. For the pense, and risk it, the day after to m - or
moment, I forgot business, and burned row . "
with envy of Mr. Yatman . “ So soon as that ? ” cries Mr. Jay,
“ Don't despair, Ma'am ,” I said , with looking very much astonished. 66
Well,
an insinuating mildness which seemed to I'm ready, if you are. But, I say, Jack,
touch her. “ I have heard a mysterious is Soinebody Else ready, too ? Are you
conversation ,-I know of a guilty ap- quite sure of that ?”
pointment -- and' I expect great things He smiled, as he spoke ,-a frightful
from my Peep-Hole and my Pipe-Hole smile,-and laid a very strong emphasis
to -night. Pray, don't be alarmed, but I on those two worls, “ Somebody Else."
think we are on the brink of a discor- There is evidently a third ruffian, a
ery.” naineless desperado, concerned in the
Here my enthusiastic devotion to busi- business.
ness got the better of my tender feelings. “ Meet us to-morrow ," says Jack, " and
I looked,-winked , -nodded , left her. judge for yourself. Be in the Regent's
When I got back to my observatory, Park at eleven in the morning, and look
I found Mr. Jay digesting his mutton- out for us at the turning that leads to the
chops in an arm -chair, with his pipe in Avenue Road . "
his mouth . On his table were two tun- " I'll be there,” says Mr. Jay. " Have
blers, a jug of water, and the pint-bottle · a drop of brandy and water . What are
.

of brandy. It was then close upon you getting up for ? You're not going
seven o'clo « k . As the hour struck , the already ? ”
person described as “ Jack ” walked in. “ Yes, I am ,” says Jack. « The fact
66

He looked agitated,-I am happy to is, I'm so excited and agitated, that I

say he looked violently agitated . The can't sit still anywhere for five ninutes
cheerful glow of anticipated success dif- together. Ridiculous as it may appear
fused itself (to use a strong expression ) to you, I'm in a perpetual state of ner
all over me, from head to foot. With vous flutter. I can't, for the life of me,
breathless interest I looked through my help fearing that we shall be found out.
Peep-Hole, and saw the visitor— the I fancy that every man who looks twice
“ Jack ” of this delightful case — sit down, at me in the street is a spy
facing me, at the opposite side of the At those words, I thought my legs
table to Mr. Jay. Making allowance for would have given way under me. Noth
the difference in expression which their ing but strength of mind kept me at my
countenances just now happened to ex- Peep -Hole,-nothing else, I give you my
hibit, these two abandoned villains were word of honor.
so much alike in other respects as to “ Stuff and nonsense ! ” cries Mr. Jay,
lead at once to the conclusion that they with all the effrontery of a veteran in
were brothers. Jack was the cleaner crime. “ We have kept the secret up to
man and the better -dressed of the two. this time, and we will manage cleverly
I admit that, at the outset. It is, perhaps, to the end. Have a drop of brandy and
a

one of my failings to push justice and
impartiality to their utınost liinits. I am
no Pharisee ; and where Vice has its re-
deeming point, I say, let Vice have its
due , -yes, yes, by all manner of means,
let Vice have its due.
water, and you will feel as certain about
it as I do."
Jack steadily refused the brandy and
water, and steadily persisted in taking
his leave. “ I must try if I can't walk
it oll ,” he said . • Remember to -morrow
714 Who is the Thief ? [ April,
morning, cleven o'clock , Avenue- head and groaned. Mrs. Yatman ( that
Road side of the Regent's Park .” superior woman ) favored me with a
With those words he went out. His charming look of intelligence. “ Ob,
hardened relative laughed desperately, Mr. Sharpin !” she said , “ I am so sorry
and resumed the dirty clay pipe. to see those two men ! Your sending for
I sat down on the side of my bed, their assistance looks as if you were be
actually quivering with exciteinent. It ginning to be doubtful of success. ” I
is clear to me that no attempt has yet privately winked at her, (she is very
been made to change the stolen bank- good in allowing me to do so without
notes ; and I may add, that Sergeant taking offence ,) and told her, in my fa
Bulmer was of that opinion also, when cetious way, that she labored under a
he left the case in my hands. What is slight mistake. “ It is because I am sure
the natural conclusion to draw from of success, Ma'am , that I send for them .
the conversation which I have just set I am determined to recover the money,
down ? Evidently, that the confederates not for my own sake only, but for Mr.
meet to -morrow to take their respective Yatman's sake, —and for yours.” I laid
shares in the stolen money , and to decide a considerable amount of stress on those
on the safest means of getting the notes last three words. She said, “ Oh, Mr.
changed the day after. Mr. Jay is, be- Sharpin ! ” again , and blushed of a
yond a doubt, the leading criminal in this heavenly red ,—and looked down at her
business, and he will probably run the work. I could go to the world's end
chiet' risk , —that of chanying the fifty- with that woman, if Mr. Yatman would
pound notc. I shall, therefore, still make only die.
it my business to follow him ,-attending I sent off the two subordinates to
at the Regent's Park to-morrow, and wait, until I wanted them , at the Avenuc
doing my best to hear what is said there. Road gate of the Regent's Park . Half
If another appointment is made for the an hour afterwards I was following the
day afier, I shall, of course, go to it. same direction myself, at the heels of Mr.
In the mean time, I shall want the Jay.
immediate assistance of two competent The two confederates were punctual
persons (supposing the rascals separate to the appointed time. I blush to record
after their meeting ) to follow the two it, but it is, nevertheless , necessary to
minor criminals. It is only fair to add, state, that the third rogue - the nameless
that, if the rogues all retire together, I desperado of my report, or, if you pre
shall probably keep my subordinates in fer it, the mysterious “ Somebody Else ”
reserve . Being naturally ambitious, I of the conversation between the two
desire, if possible, to have the whole brothers - is- - a woman ! and, what
credit of discovering this robbery to my is worse, a young woman ! and, what is
self. more lamentable still, a nice -looking
woman ! I have long resisted a growing
8th July. conviction, that, wherever there is mis
I have to acknowledge, with thanks, chief in this world, an individual of the
the speedy arrival of my two subordi- fair sex is inevitably certain to be mixed
nates ,-men of very average abilities, I up in it. After the experience of this
am afraid ; but, fortunately, I shall als morning, I can struggle against that sad
ways be on the spot to direct them . conclusion no longer. I give up the sex,
My first business this morning was, -excepting Mrs. Yatman, II give up the
necessarily, to prevent possible mistakes, sex .
by accounting to Mr. and Mrs. Yatman The man named “ Jack ” offered the
for the presence of the two strangers on woman his arm . Mr. Jay placed him
the scene . Mr. Yatinan (between our- self on the other side of her. The three
selves,a poor, feeble man ) only shook his then walked away slowly among the
1858. ] Who is the Thief ? 715

trees. I followed them at a respectful is rarely to be found, I should imagine,

distance. Dly two subordinates, at a re- in a young beginner, whose reputation
spectful distance also, followed me. as a detective policeman is still to make.
It was, I deeply regret to say, impossi From the house of suspicious appear
ble to get pear enough to them to over- ance Mr. Jay betook himself to a cigar
hear their conversation , without running divan, and read the magazines over a
too great a risk of being discovered . I cheroot. I sat at a table near him , and
could only infer from their gestures and read the magazines, likewise, over a

actions that they were all three talking cheroot. From the divan he strolled to
together with extraordinary earnestness the tavern , and had his chops. I stroll
on some subject which deeply interested ed to the tavern , and had my chops.
them. After having been engaged in When he had done , he went back to his
this way a full quarter of an hour, they lodging. When I had done, I went
suddenly turned round to retrace their back to mine. He was overcome with
steps. My presence of mind did not for- drowsiness carly in the evening, and
sake me in this emergency. I signed to went to bed. As soon as I heard him
the two subordinates to walk on care- snoring, I was overcome with drowsiness,
lessly and pass them, while I myself and went to bed also.
slipped dexterously behind a tree. As Early in the morning, my two sub
they came by me , I heard “ Jack ” ad- ordinates canie to make their report.
dress these words to Mr. Jay : They had seen the man named “ Jack "
“ Let us say half -past ten to -morrow leave the woman at the gate of an ap
morning. And mind you come in a cab. parently respectable villa-residence, not
We had better not risk taking one in far from the Regent's Park. Left to
this neighborhood .” himself, he took turning to the right,
Mr. Jay made some brief reply, which which led to a sort of suburban street,
I could not overhear. They walked principally inhabited by shopkeepers.
back to the place at which they had He stopped at the private door of one
met, shaking hands there with an auda- of the houses, and let himself in with
cious cordiality which it quite sickened his own key ,-looking about him as he
me to see. Then they separated. I opened the door, and staring suspicious
followed Mr. Jay. My subordinates paid ly at my men as they lounged along on
the same delicate attention to the other the opposite side of the way. These
two. were all the particulars which the sub
Instead of taking me back to Ruther ordinates had to communicate. I kept
ford Street, Mr. Jay led me to the them in my room to attend on me, if
Strand. He stopped at a dingy, dis- needful, and mounted to my Peep -Hole
reputable -looking house, which, accord- to have a look at Mr. Jay.
ing to the inscription over the door, was He was occupied in dressing himself,
a newspaper office, but which, in my and was taking extraordinary pains to
judgment, had all the external appear- destroy all traces of the natural sloven
ance of a place devoted to the reception liness of his appearance. This was pre
of stolen goods. After remaining inside cisely what I expected. A vagabond
for a few ininutes, he came out, whistling, like Mr. Jay knows the importance of
with his finger and thumb in his waist- giving himself a respectable look when
coat porket. Some men would now have he is going to run the risk of changing a
arrested in on the spot. I remembered stolen bank -note. At five minutes past
the necessity of catíhing the two confed- ten o'clock he had given the last brush
erates, and the importance of not interfer- to liis shabby hat and the last scouring
ing with the appointment that has been with bread -crumb to his dirty gloves.
maile for the next morning. Such cool- At ten minutes past ten he was in the
ness as this, under trying circumstances, street, on his way to the nearest cab
716 Who is the Thief ! [ April,
stand, and I and my subordinates were had upon the ordinary run of men , I
close on his heels. don't know. Being of a religious turn
He took a cab, and we took a cab . myself, it filled me with horror. I have
I had not overheard them appoint a often read of the unprincipled cunning
place of meeting, when following them of criminal persons; but I never before
in the Park on the previous day ; but I heard of three thieves attempting to
soon found that we were proceeding in double on their pursuers by entering a
the old direction of the Avenue -Road church ! The sacrilegious audacity of
gate. The cab in which Mr. Jay was that proceeding is, I should think, un
riding turned into the Park slowly. We paralleled in the annals of crime.
stopped outside, to avoid exciting suspi- I checked my grinning subordinates
cion . I got out to follow the cab on foot. by a frown. It was easy to see what
Just as I did so , I saw it stop, and de- was passing in their superficial minds.
tected the two confederates approaching If I had not been able to look below the
it from among the trees. They got in, surface, I might, on observing two nice
and the cab was turned about directly. ly dressed men and one nicely dressed
I ran back to my own cab, and told the woman enter a church before eleven in
driver to let them pass him , and then to the morning, on a week day, have come
follow as before. to the same hasty conclusion at which
The man obeyed my directions, but my inferiors had evidently arrived . As
so clumsily as to excite their suspicions. it was, appearances had no power to im
We had been driving after them about pose on me. I got out, and, followed by
three minutes, ( returning along the road one of my men, entered the church.
by which we had advanced ,) when I The other man I sent round to watch
looked out of the window to see how far the vestry door. You may catch a wea
they might be ahead of us. As I did sel asleep ,—but not your humble servant,
this, I saw two hats popped out of the Matthew Sharpin !
windows of their cab, and two faces We stole up the gallery -stairs, diverg
looking back at me. I sank into my ed to the organ -loft, and peeped through
place in a cold sweat ;—the expression the curtains in front. There they were,
is coarse, but no other form of words all three, sitting in a pew below , -yes,
can describe my condition at that trying incredible as it may appear, sitting in a
moment. pew below !
66
“ We are found out ! " I said, faintly, Before I could determine what to do,
to my two subordinates. They stared a clergyman made his appearance in full
at me in astonishment. My feelings canonicals, from the vestry door, fol
changed instantly from the depth of lowed by a clerk. My brain whirled,
despair to the height of indignation. and my eyesight grew dim . Dark re
“ It is the cabman's fault. Get out, one membrances of robberies committed in
of you ,” I said, with dignity, — " get out, vestries floated through my mind . I
and punch his head .” trembled for the excellent man in full
Instead of following my directions, canonicals ; -I even trembled for the
(I should wish this act of disobedience clerk .
to be reported at head -quarters , they The clergyman placed himself inside
both looked out of the window . Before the altar rails. The three desperadoes
I could pull them back, they both sat approached him . He opened his book,
down again. Before I could express my and began to read . What ? —you will
just indignation, they both grinned, and ask .
said to me, “ Please to look out, Sir ! " I answer, without the slightest hesi
I did look out. Their cab had stop- tation, the first lines of the Marriage
ped. Where ? At a church door ! Service.
What effect this discovery might have My subordinate bad the audacity to
1858.] Who is the Thief ? 717

look at me, and then to stuff his pocket- should certainly have done, if they had
handkerchief into his mouth . I scorned offered a bank-note. They parted from
to pay any attention to him. After my Mr. Jay, saying, “ Remember the ad
own eyes had satisfied me that there was dress,—14, Babylon Terrace. You dine
a parchment license in the clergyman's with us to -morrow week . ” Mr. Jay ac
hand, and that it was consequently use- cepted the invitation , and added, jocosely,
less to come forward and forbid the mar- that he was going home at once to get
riage ,-after I had seen this, and after I off his clean clothes, and to be confort
had discovered that the man " Jack " was able and dirty again for the rest of the
the bridegroon, and that the man Jay day. I have to report that I saw him
acted the part of father and gave away home safely, and that he is comfortable
the bride, I left the church, followed by and dirty again (to use his own disgrace
my man , and joined the other subordi- ful language) at the present moment.
nate outside the vestry door. Some peo- Here the affair rests, having by this
ple in my position would now have felt time reached what I may call its first
rather cresttallen , and would have be- staye. I know very well what persons
gun to think that they had made a very of hasty judgments will be inclined to
foolish mistake. Not the faintest misgiv- say of my proceedings thus far. They
ing of any kind troubled me. I did not will assert that I have been deceiving
feel in the slightest degree depreciated myself, all through, in the most absurd
in my own estimation . And even now , way ; they will declare that the suspi
after a lapse of three hours, my mind re- cious conversations which I have report
mains, I am happy to say, in the same ed referred solely to the difficulties and
calm and hop etil co lition. dangers of successfully carrying out a
As soon as I and my subordinates runaway match ; and they will appeal
were assenabled together, outside the to the scene in the church, as offering
church, I intimated my intention of still undeniable proof of the correctness of
following the other cab, in spite of what their assertions. So let it be. I dispute
had occurred . My reason for deciding nothing, up to this point. But I ask a
on this course will appear presently. question, out of the depths of my own
The two subordinates appeared to be sagacity as a man of the world, which
astonished at my resolution . One of the bitterest of my enemies will not, I
them had the impertinence to say to me, think, find it particularly easy to answer.
“ If you please, Sir, who is it we are Granted the fact of the marriage, what
after ? A man who has stolen money, proof does it afford me of the innocence
or a man who has stolen aa wife ? ” The of the three persons concerned in that
other low person encouraged him by clandestine transaction ? It gives me
laughing. Both have deserved an offi- none. On the contrary, it strengthens
cial reprimand ; and both, I sincerely my suspicions against Mr. Jay and his
trust, will be sure to get it. confederates, because it suggests a dis
When the marriage ceremony was tinct motive for their stcaling the money.
over, the three got into their cab ; and, A gentleman who is going to spend his
once more, our vehicle (neatly hidden honeymoon at Richmond wants money ;
round the corner of the church, so that and a gentleman who is in debt to all his
they could not suspect it to be near tradespeople wants money. Is this an
them ) started to follow theirs. We unjustifiable imputation of bad motives ?
traced them to the terminus of the In the name of outraged Morality, I
South-Western Railway. The newly deny it. These men have combined to
married couple took tickets for Rich- gether, and have stolen a woman . Why
mond, -paying their fare with a half should they not combine together and
sovereign , and so depriving me of the steal a cash -box ? I take my stand on
pleasure of arresting them , which I the logic of rigid Virtue ; and I defy all
718 Who is the Thief ? [ April,
the sophistry of Vice to move me an in the neighborhood of the Regent's
inch out of my position. Park. Any way , the affair puts money
Speaking of virtue, I may add that I into my pocket, and vloes credit to my
have put this view of the case to Mr. and penetration, as an uncommonly sharp
Mrs. Yatman . That accomplished and man .

charming woman found it difficult, at I have only one word more to add ,
first, to follow the close chain of my rea- and it is this :-If any indiviilual ven
soning. I am free to confess that she tures to assert that Mr. Jay and his con
shook her head , and shed tears, and federates are innocent of all share in
joined her husband in premature lamen- the stealing of the cash -box , I, in return ,
tation over the loss of the two hundred defy that individual — though he may even
pounds. But a little careful explanation be Chief Inspector Theakstone himself
on my part, and a little attentive listen- to tell me who has committed the robbery
ing on hers, ultimately changed her opin- at Rutherford Street, Soho.
ion . She now agrees with me , that there Strong in that conviction,
is nothing in this unexpected circuin- I have the honor to be
stance of the clandestine marriage which Your very obedient servant,
absolutely tends to divert suspicion from MATTHEW Sharpin .
Mr. Jay, or Mr. “ Jack," or the runaway
lady , — " audacious hussey ” was the term
my fair friend used in speaking of her, FROM CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE

but let that pass. It is more to the pur TO SERGEANT BULMER .

pose to record, that Mrs. Yatman has
Birmingham, July 9th .
not lost confidence in me, and that Mr.
Yatman promises to follow her example Sergeant Bulmer,
and do his best to look hopefully for fu- That empty -headed puppy, Mr. Mat
ture results. thew Sharpin, has made a mess of the
I have now, in the new turn that cir- case at Rutherford Street, exactly as I
cumstances have taken, to await advice expected he would . Business keeps me
from your office. I pause for fresh or- in this town ; so I write to you to set the
ders with all the composure of a man matter straight. I enclose, with this, the
who has got two strings to his bow . pages of feeble scribble -scrabble which
When I traced the three confederates the creature, Sharpin , calls a report.
from the church door to the railway ter- Look them over ; and when you have
minus, I had two motives for doing so. made your way through all the gabble, I
First, I followed them as a matter of think you will agree with me that the
official business, believing them still to conceited booby has looked for the thief
have been guilty of the robbery. Sec- in every direction but the right one.
ondly, I followed them as a matter of The case is perfectly simple, now. Set
private speculation , with a view of dis- tle it at once ; forward your report to
covering the place of refuge to which the me at this place ; and tell Mr. Sharpin
runaway couple intended to retreat, and that he is suspended till further notice.
of making my information a marketable Yours,
commodity to offer to the young ladly's Francis THEAKSTONE.
family and friends. Thus, whatever hap
pens, I may congratulate myself before
hand on not having wasted my time. FROM SERGEANT BULMER TO CHIEF
If the office approves of my conduct, I INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE .
have my plan ready for further proceed
London , July 10th .
ings. If the office blames me, I shall
take myself off, with my marketable in INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE,
formation, to the genteel villa -residence Your letter and enclosure came safe
1858. ] Who is the Thief ? 719

to hand. Wise men, they say, may al- “ Not my shopman ? " says he. “ Ihope,
ways learn something, cren from a fool. for the man's own sake, it's not my shop
By the time I had got through Sharpin's man . "
maun ring report of his own folly, I “ Guess again, Sir,” says I.
saw my way clear enough to the end of " That idle slut, the maid ? " says he.
the Rutherford - Street case, just as you “ She is idle, Sir,” says I, “ and she is
thought I should . In half an hour's also a slut ; my first inquiries about her
time I was at the house . The first per- proved as much as that. But she's not
son I saw there was Mr. Sharpin himself. the thief. "
“ Ilave you come to help me ? ” say's 66
Then, in the name of Heaven, who
he. is ? ” says he.
“ Not exactly,” says I. “ I've come to Will you please to prepare yourself
tell you that you are suspended till fur- for a very disagreeable surprise, Sir ? ”
notice." says I. “ And in case you lose your
“ Very good,” says he, not taken down, temper, will you excuse my remarking,
by so much as a single peg, in his own that I am the stronger man of the two,
estimation . “ I thought you would be and that, if you allow yourself to lay
jealous of me. It's very:natural; and I hands on me, I may unintentionally hurt
don't blame you. Walk in, pray, and you , in purc self -defence ? "
make yourself at home. I'm off to do He turned as pale as ashes, and
a little detective business on my own ac- pushed his chair two or three feet away
count, in the neighborhood of the Re from me .
gent's Park. Ta-ta, Sergeant, ta - ta ! " “ You have asked me to tell you , Sir,
With those words he took himself out who has taken your money ," I went
of my way,—which was exactly what I on . “ If you insist on my giving you
wanted him to do. As soon as the maid an answer
66

scrvant had shut the door, I told her to
inform her master that I wanted to say
a word to him in private. She showed
me into the parlor behind the shop ;
and there was Mr. Yatman , all alone,
reading the newspaper.
" About this matter of the robbery,
Sir," says I.
Ile cut me short, peevishly enough ,-
being naturally a poor, weak, womanish
sort of man . “ Yes, yes, I know ,” says
he. “ You have come to tell me that
your wonderfully clever man , who has
bored holes in my second -floor partition,
has made a mistake , and is off the scent
of the scoundrel who has stolen my
money . "
Yes, Sir,” says I. “ That is one of
the things I came to tell you. But I
have got something else to say, besides
that. "
“ Can you tell me who the thief is ? ”
says he, more pettish than ever.
“ Yes, Sir ,” says I, “ I think I can . "
He put down the newspaper, and be-
gan to look rather anxious and frightened.
" I do insist,” he said, faintly. “ Who
has taken it ? "
46 9
Your wife has taken it,” I said, very
quietly, and very positively at thc same
time .
He jumped out of the chair as if I
had put a knife into him , and struck his
fist on the table, so heavily that the
wood cracked again.
“ Stearly, Sir,” says I. Flying into
a passion won't help you to the truth ."
“ It's a lie ! ” says he, with another
smack of his fist on the table, " a base,
vile, infamous lic ! Ilow dare you
He stopped, and fell back into the
chair again, looked about him in a be
wildered way, and ended by bursting
out crying.
“ When your better sense comes back
to you, Sir,” says I, “ I am sure you will
be gentleman enough to make me an
apology for the language you have just
used. In the mcan time, please to lis
ten, if you can, to a word of explana
tion . Mr. Sharpin has sent in a report
to our Inspector, of the most irregular
720 Who is the Thief ? [ April,
and ridiculous kind ; setting down, not altered circumstances, has felt herself
only all his own foolish doings and say- driven into a corner ; and she has paid
ings, but the doings and sayings of Mrs. her private account out of your cash
Yatinan as well. In most cases, such a box . "
document would have been fit only for “ I won't believe it ! " says he. “Every
the waste-paper basket; but, in this par- word you speak is an abominable insult
ticular case, it so happens that Mr. to me and to my wife. ”
Sharpin's budget of nonsense leads to “ Are you man enough, Sir," says I, tak
a certain conclusion which the simpleton ing him up short, in order to save time
of a writer has been quite innocent of and words, “ to get that receipted bill
suspecting from the beginning to the you spoke of just now, off the file, and
end. Of that conclusion I am so sure , to come with me at once to the milliner's
that I will forfeit iny place, if it does not shop where Mrs. Yatman deals ? "
turn out that Mrs. Yatman has been He turned red in the face at that, got
practising upon the folly and conceit of the bill directly, and put on his hat. I
this young man , and that she has tried took out of my pocket -book the list con
to shield herself from discovery by pur- taining the numbers of the lost notes,
posely encouraging him to suspect the and we left the house together immedi
wrong persons. I tell you that confi- ately.
dently ; and I will even go farther. I Arrived at the milliner's, (one of the
will undertake to give a decided opinion expensive West-End houses, as I expect
as to why Mrs. Yatman took the money, ed ,) I asked for a private interview, on
and what she has done with it, or with a important business, with the mistress of
part of it. Nobody can look at that the concern. It was not the first time
lady, Sir, without being struck by the that she and I had met over the same
great taste and beauty of her dress ” . delicate investigation. The moment she
As I said those last words, the poor set eyes on me, she sent for her husband.
man seemed to find his powers of speech I mentioned who Mr. Yatman was, and
again. He cut me short directly, as what we wanted .
haughtily as if he had been a duke in- " This is strictly private ? ” says the
stead of a stationer. “ Try some other husband. I nodded my head .
means of justifying your vile calumny " And confidential ? ” says the wife. I
against my wife,” says he. “ Her millin- nodded again.
er's bill, for the past year, is on my file " Do you see any objection, dear, to
of receipted accounts, at this moment." obliging the Sergeant with a sight of the
“Excuse me, Sir,” says I, “ but that books ? ” says the husband.
proves nothing. Milliners, I must tell “ None in the world, love, if you ap
you, have a certain rascally custom prove of it,” says the wife.
which comes within the daily experience All this while poor Mr. Yatman sat
of our office . A married lady who looking the picture of astonishment and
wishes it can keep two accounts at her distress, quite out of place at our polite
dress m- aker's ;-one is the account which conference. The books were brought
her husband secs and pays ; the other and one minute's look at the pages in
is the private, account, which contains which Mrs. Yatman's name figured was
all the extravagant items, and which the enough, and more than enough, to prove
wite pays secretly, by instalments, when- the truth of every word that I had
ever she can. According to our usual spoken.
experience, these instalments are mostly There, in one book , was the husband's
squeezed out of the housekeeping money. account, which Mr. Yatman had settled .
In your case, I suspect no instalments And there, in the other, was the private
have been paid ; proceedings have been account, crossed off also ; the date of
threatened ; Mrs. Yatman, knowing your settlement being the very day after the
1858.] Who is the Thief ? 721

loss of the cash -box . This said private ing her. But this is no business of ours.
account amounted to the sum of a hun- So far as we are concerned, the case is
dred and seventy-fivc pounds, odd shil- now at an end ; and the present report
lings ; and it extended over a period of may come to a conclusion along with
three years. Not a single instalment had it.
been paid on it. Under the last line I remain, accordingly, yours to com
was an entry to this effect : “ Written to mand, Thomas BULMER.
for the third time, June 23d.” I pointed
to it, and asked the milliner if that meant P. S. - I have to add, that, on leaving
“ last Junc .” Yes, it did mean last June ; Rutherford Street, I met Mr. Matthew
and she now deeply regretted to say that Sharpin coming back to pack up his
it had been accompanied by a threat of things.
legal proceedings. Only think ! ” says hc, rubbing his
“ I thought you gave good customers hands in great spirits, “ I've been to the
more than three years' crcdit ? " says 1. genteel villa -residence ; and the moment
The milliner looks at Mr. Yatman, and I mentioned my business, they kicked
whispers to me, — “ Not when a lady's me out directly. There were two wit
husband gets into difficulties. ” nesses of the assault ; and it's worth a
She pointed to the account as she spoke. hundred pounds to me, if it's worth a
The entries after the time when Mr. Yat- farthing.”
man's circumstances became involved “ I wish you joy of your luck ," says I.
were just as extravagant, for a person “ Thank you,” says he. " When may
in his wife's situation , as the entries for I pay you the same compliment on find
the year before that period. If the ladying the thief ? "
had economized in other things, she had “ Whenever you like,” says I, “ for the
certainly not economized in the matter thief is found . "
of dress. “ Just what I expected,” says he. “ I've
There was nothing left now but to done all the work ; and now you cut in,
examine the cash -book, for form's sake. and claim all the credit . — Mr. Jay, of
»
The money had been paid in notes, the course ? ”
amounts and numbers of which exactly “ No," says I.
tallied with the figures set down in my “ Who is it, then ? ” says he.
list. Ask Mrs. Yatman ,” says I. “ She'll
After that, I thought it best to get Mr. tell you ."
Yatman out of the house immediately. “ All right ! I'd much rather hear it
He was in such a pitiable condition , that from her than from you,” says hc,—and
I called a cab and accompanied him goes into the house in a mighty hurry .
home in it. At first, he cried and raved What do you think of that, Inspector
like a child ; but I soon quieted him,— Theakstone ? Would you like to stand
and I must add, to his credit, that he in Mr. Sharpin's shoes ? I shouldn't, I
made me a most hapdsome apology for can promise you !
his language, as the cab drew up at bis
house -door. In return , I tried to give
bim some advice about how to set mat FROM CHIEF INSPECTOR THEAKSTONE
ters right, for the future , with his wife. TO MR. MATTHEW SHARPIX .

He paid very little attention to me, and July 12th .

went up stairs muttering to himself about Sir,
& separation . Whether Mrs. Yatman Sergeant Bulmer has already told
will come cleverly out of the scrape or you to consider yourself suspended until
not seems doubtful. I should say, myself, further notice . I have now authority to
that she will go into screeching hysterics , add , that your services as a member of the
and so frighten the poor man into forgiv- Detective Police are positively declined .
VOL. I. 46
722 Telling the Bees. [ April
You will please to take this letter as implies that you are not quite sharp
notifying officially your dismissal from enough for our purpose. If we are to
the forcc. have a new recruit ainong us, we should
I may inform you, privately, that your infinitely prefer Mrs. Yatman.
rejection is not intended to cast any re Your obedient servant,
flections on your character. It m merely Fraxcis THEAKSTONE.

NOTE ON THE PRECEDING CORRESPOND-
ENCE . — The editor is, unfortunately, not in
a position to add any explanations of impor-
tance to the last of the published letters of
Chief Inspector Theakstone. It has been dis-
covereil that Mr. Matthew Sharpin left the
house in Rutherford Street a quarter of an
hour after his interview outside of it with
Sergeant Bulmer ,-his manner expressing the
liveliest emotions of terror and astonishment,
and his left cheek displaying a bright patch
of red , which looked as if it might have been
the result of what is popularly termed a
smart box on the ear. He was also heard, by
the shopman at Rutherford Street, to use a
very shocking expression in reference to Mrs.
Yatm :in ; and was seen to clinch his fist vin-
dictively, as he ran round the corner of the
street. Nothing more has been heard of him ;
and it is conjectured that he has leſt London
with the intention of offering his valuable
services to the provincial police.
On the interesting domestic subject of Mr.
and Mrs. Yatman still less is known. It has,
however, been positively ascertained that the
medical attendant of the family was sent for
in a great hurry on the day when Mr. Yat
man returned from the milliner's shop. The
neighboring chemist received, soon afterwards,
a prescription of a soothing nature to make
up for Mrs. Yatman. The day after, Mr.
Yatman purchased some smelling-salts at the
shop, and afterwards appeared at the circu
lating library to ask for a novel that would
amuse an invalid lady. It has been inferred
from these circumstances that he has not
thought it desirable to carry out his threat of
separating himself from his wife,-at least
in the present ( presumed ) condition of that
lady's sensitive nervous system.

TELLING THE BEES.*

Here is the place ; right over the hill

Runs the path I took ;
You can see the gap in the old wall still,
And the stepping -stones in the shallow brook.

There is the house, with the gate red -barred,

And the poplars tall ;
And the barn's brown length, and the cattle-yard,
And the white horns tossing above the wall.
There are the bec-hives ranged in the sun ;
And down by the brink
Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed-o'errun ,
Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink.
* A remarkable custom , brought from the Old Country, formerly prevailed in the rural
districts of New England. On the death of a member of the family , the becs were at once
informed of the event, and their hives dressed in mourning. This ceremonial was supposed to
be necessary to prevent the swarms from leaving their hives and seeking a new home.
1858.] Telling the Bees. 723
A year has gonc, as the tortoisc goes,
Heavy and slow ;
And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows
And the same brook sings of a year ago.
There's the same sweet clover-smell in the breeze ,
And the June sun warm
Tangles his wings of fire in the trees,
Setting, as then, over Fernside farm .
I mind me how with a lover's care
From my Sunday coat
I brushed off the burrs, and smoothed my hair,
And cooled at the brook -side my brow and throat.
Since we parted, a month had passed -
,
To love , a year ;
Down through the beeches, I looked at last
On the little red gate and the well-sweep near.
I can see it all now , -the slantwise rain
Of light through the leaves,
The sundown’s blaze on her window -pane,
The bloom of her roses under the eaves.

Just the same as a month before ,

The house and the trees,
The barn's brown gable, the vine by the door ,
Nothing changed but the hives of bees.
Before them , under the garden wall,
Forward and back,
Went, drearily singing, the chore- girl small,
Draping each hive with aa shred of black.
Trembling, I listened : the summer sun
Had the chill of snow ;
For I knew she was telling the bees of one
Gone on the journey we all must go !
Then I said to myself, “ My Mary weeps
For the dead to-day :
Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps
The fret and the pain of his age away."
But her dog whined low ; on the doorway sill,
With his cane to his chin ,
The old man sat ; and the chore-girl still
Sung to the bees stcaling out and in .
And the song she was singing ever since
In my ear sounds on :
u
Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence !
Mistress Mary is dead and gone ! ”
724 Persian Poetry . [ April,

PERSIAN POETRY.

To Baron von Hammer Purgstall, who the simoom , the mirage, the lion, and the
died in Vienna during the last year, we plague endanger it, and life hangs on
owe our best knowledge of the Persians. the contingency of a skin of water more
He has translated into German , besides or less. The very geography of old
the “ Divan ” of Hafiz, specimens of two Persia showed these contrasts. “My
bundred poets, who wrote during a pe- father's empire," said Cyrus to Xcnophon,
riod of five and a half centuries, from “ is so large, that people perish with
A. D. 1000 to 1550. The seven masters cold, at one extremity, whilst they are
of the Persian Parnassus, Firdousi, Enwe- suffocated with heat, at the other.” The
ri, Nisami, Dschelaleddin , Saadi, Hafiz, temperament of the people agrees with
and Dschami, have ceased to be empty this life in extremes. Religion and
names ; and others, like Ferideddin At poetry are all their civilization . The
tar, and Omar Chiam, promise to rise religion teaches an inexorable Destiny.
in Western estimation . That for which It distinguishes only two days in cach
mainly books exist is communicated in man's history: his birthday, called the
these rich extracts. Many qualities go Day of the Lol, and the Day of Judgment
to make a good telescope ,-as the large- Courage and absolute submission to what
ness of the field, facility of sweeping the is appointed him are his virtues.
meridian , achromatic purity of lenses, The favor of the climate, making sub
and so forth ,—but the one eminent value sistence easy, and encouraging an out
is the space- penetrating power ; and door life, allows to the Eastern nations a
there are many virtues in books, -but the highly intellectual organization ,-leaving
essential value is the adding of knowl- out of view, at present, the genius of
edge to our stock, by the record of new the Hindoos, (more Oriental in every
facts, and, better, by the record of in- sense ,) whom no people have surpassed
tuitions, which distribute facts, and are in the grandeur of their ethical state
the formulas which supersede all his- ment. The Persians and the Arabs,
tories. with great leisure and few books, are
Oriental life and society, especially in exquisitely sensible to the pleasures of
the Southern nations, stand in violent poetry. Layard has given some details
contrast with the multitudinous detail, of the effect which the improvvisatori
the secular stability, and the vast average produced on the children of the desert
of comfort of the Western nations. Life “ When the bard improvised an ama
tory ditty, the young chief's excitement
in the East is fierce, short, hazardous, and
in extremes. Its elements are few and was almost beyond control. The other
simple, not exhibiting the long range and Bedouins were scarcely less moved by
undulation of European existence, but these rude measures, which have the
rapidly reaching the best and the worst. same kind of effect on the wild tribes
The rich feed on fruits and game,-thc of the Persian mountains. Such verses,
poor, on a watermelon's peel. All or chanted by their self-taught poets, or by
nothing is the genius of Oriental life. the girls of their encampment, will drive
Favor of the Sultan, or his displeasure, is warriors to the combat, fearless of death,
a question of Fate. A war is undertakenor prove an ample reward, on their re
for an epigram or a distich, as in Eu- turn from the dangers of the ghazon, or
rope for a duchy. The prolific sun, the fight. The excitement they produce
and the sudden and rank plenty which exceeds that of the grape. He who
his heat engenders, make subsistence would understand the influence of the
easy. On the other side, the desert, Homeric ballads in the heroic ages
 1858.] Persian Poetry. 725

Bhould witness the effect which similar came the ant with a blade of grass :
compositions have upon the wild nom- Solomon did not despise the gift of the
ads of the East.” Elsewhere he adds, ant. Asaph, the vizier, at a certain time,
“ Poetry and Aowers are the wine and lost the seal of Solomon , which one of
spirits of the Arab ; a couplet is equal to the Dews, or evil spirits, found, and,
å bottle, and a rose to a dram , without governing in the name of Solomon , de
the evil effect of either.” ceived the people.
The Persian poetry rests on a my- Firdousi, the Persian Homer, has
thology whose few legends are connected written in the Shah Namch the annals
with the Jewish history, and the anterior of the fabulous and heroic kings of the
traditions of the Pentateuch. The prin- country : of Karun, (the Persian Cree
cipal figure in the allusions of Eastern sus,) the immeasurably rich gold -maker,
poetry is Solomon . Solomon had three who, with all his treasures, lies buried
talismans : first, the signet ring, by which not far from the Pyramids, in the sea
he commanded the spirits, on the stone which bears his name ; of Jamschid , the
of which was engraven' the name of binder of demons, whose reign lasted
God ; second, the glass, in which he saw seven hundred years ; of Kai Kaus
the secrets of his enemies, and the causes whose palace was built by demons on
of all things, figured ; the third, the east Alberz, in which gold and silver and
wind, which was his horse. His coun- precious stones were used so lavishly,
sellor was Simorg, king of birds, the all- and such was the brilliancy produced by
wise fowl, who had lived ever since the their combined effect, that night and day
beginning of the world, and now lives appeared the same ; of Afrasiyab, strong
alone on the highest summit of Mount as an elephant, whose shadow extended
Kaf. No fowler has taken him , and for miles, whose heart was bountcous as
none now living has seen him. By him the ocean , and his hands like the clouds
Solomon was taught the language of when rain falls to gladden the earth.
birds, so that he heard secrets whenever The crocodile in the rolling stream had
he went into his gardens. When Solo- no safety froin Afrasiyab. Yet when he
mon travelled , his throne was placed on came to fight against the generals of
a carpet of green silk, of a length and Kaus, he was but an insect in the grasp
breadth sufficient for all his army to of Rustem , who seized him by the girille,
stand upon , -men placing themselves on and (Iragged him from his horse. Rus
his right hand, and the spirits on his tem felt such anger at the arrogance of
left. When all were in order, the cast the King of Mazinderan , that every hair
* wind, at his command , took up the car- on his body started up like a spear.
pet, and transported it, with all that The gripe of his hand cracked the
were upon it, whither he pleased ,—the sinews of an enemy.
army of birds at the same time flying These legends,—with Chiser, the foun
overhead , and forming a canopy to tain of life, Tuba, the tree of life, - the
shade them from the sun. It is related , romances of the loves of Leila and Med
that, when the Queen of Sheba came to schun, of Chosru and Schirin , and those
visit Solomon , he had built, against herof the nightingale for the rose,-pearl
arrival, a palace, of which the floor or diving, and the virtues of gems,—the co
pavement was of glass, laid over running hol, a cosmetic by which pearls and eye
water, in which fish were swimming. brows are indelibly stained black ,-the
The Queen of Sheba was deceived bladder in which musk is brought, —the
thereby, and raised her robes, thinking down of the lip, the mole on the check,
she was to pass through the water. On the eyelash , - lilies, roses, tulips, and jas
the occasion of Solomon's marriage, all mines, -make the staple imagery of Per
the beasts, laden with presents, appear- sian odes.
ed before his throne. Behind them all The Persians have epics and tales, but,
 726 Persian Poetry.
for the most part, they affect short poems
and epigrams. Gnomic verses, rules of
life, conveyed in a lively image, especially
in an image addressed to the eye, and
contained in a single stanza , were always
current in the East ; and if the poem is
long, it is only a string of unconnected
verses. They use an inconsecutiveness
quite alarming to Western logic, and the
connection between the stanzas of their
longer odes is much like that between
the refrain of our old English ballads ,
“ The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,”
or
“ The rain it raineth every day , "
and the main story.
Takc, as specimens of these gnomic
verses, the following :
“ The secret that should not be blown
Not one of thy nation must know ;
You may padlock the gate of a town,
But never the mouth of a foe."
Or this of Omar Chiam :
6
On earth's wide thoroughfares below
Two only men contented go :
Who knows what's right and what's forbid,
And he from whom is knowledge hid .”
Or this of Enweri :
“ On prince or bride no diamond stone
Half so gracious ever shone,
As the light of enterprise
Beaming from a young man's eyes.”
Or this of Ibn Jemin :
“ Two things thou shalt not long for, if thou
love a life serene :
A woman for thy wiſe, though she were a
crowned queen ;
And, the second, borrowed money, though almost on a ring.
the smiling lender say
That he will not demand the debt until the
Judgment Day."
Or this poem on Friendship :
“ He who has a thousand friends has not a
friend to spare ,
And he who has one enemy shall meet him
everywhere."
Here is a poem on a Melon, by Ad
sched of Meru :
" Color, taste, and smell, smaragdus, sugar,
and musk ,
Amber for the tongue, for the eye a picture
,
rare-
[ April,
If you cut the fruit in slices, every slice &
crescent fair ,
If you leave it whole, the full harvest-moon
is there . "
Hafiz is the prince of Persian poets,
and in his extraordinary gifts adds to some
of the attributes of Pindar, Anacreon ,
Horace, and Burns the insight of a mys
tic, that sometimes affords a decper glanco
at Nature than belongs to either of these
bards. Ile accosts all topics with an
easy audacity. “ He only,” he says, “ is
fit for company, who knows how to prize
earthly happiness at the value of a night
cap. Our father Adam sold Paradise
för two kernels of wheat ; then blame me
not, if I hold it dear at onc grapestone."
He says to the Shah,“ Thou who rulest
after words and thoughts which no ear
has heard and no mind has thought,
abide firm until thy young destiny tears
off his blue coat from the old graybeard
of the sky.” He says,
“ I batter the wheel of heaven
When it rolls not rightly by ;
I am not one of the snivellers
Who fall thereon and dic."
The rapidity of his turns is always sur
prising us :
“ See how the roses burn !
Bring wine to quench the fire !
Alas ! the flames come up with us,
We perish with desirc."
After the manner of his nation, he
abounds in pregnant sentences which,
might be engraved on a sword - blade and
" In honor dies ho to whom the great seems
ever wonderful."
“llerc is the sum, that, when one door
opens, another shuts."
“ On ercry side is an ambush Iaid by the
robber -troops of circumstancc ; hence it is
that the horseman of life urges on his courser
at licadlong speed."
“ The carth is a host who murders his
guests ."
“Good is what goes on the rond of Nature.
On the straight way the traveller never miss
es."
"Alas ! till now I had not known
dly guide and Fortune's guide are one."
 1858.] Persian Poetry 727
“ The understanding's copper coin air of sterility, of incompetence to their
Counts not with the gold of love." proper aims, belongs to many who have
" ' Tis writ on Paradise's gate, both experience and wisdom. But a
• Wo to the dupe that yields to Fate ! " large utterance , a river, that makes its
“ The world is a bride superbly dressed ; own shores, quick perception and cor
Who weds her for dowry must pay his soul." responding expression, a constitution to
6
Loose the knots of the heart; never think on which every morrow is a new day, which
thy fate : is equal to the needs of life, at once ten
No Euclid has yet disentangled that snarl.” der and bold, with great arteries, —this
generosity of ebb and flow satisfies, and
“ There resides in the grieving
A poison to kill ; we should be willing to die when our
Beware to go near them time comes, having had our swing and
' Tis pestilent still." gratification. The difference is not so
Harems and wine-shops only give him much in the quality of men's thoughts as
a new ground of observation, whence to in the power of uttering them . What is
draw sometimes a deeper moral than dumb actor
pent and smouldered in the
regulated sober life affords, —and this is is not pent in the poet, but passes over
foreseen : into new form , at once relief and crea
tion .
“ I will be drunk and down with rine ;
The other merit of Hafiz is his intcl
Treasures we find in a ruined house."
lectual liberty, which is a certificate of
Riot, he thinks, can snatch from the deeply profound thought. Weaccept the relig
hidden lot the veil that covers it : ions and politics into which we fall; and it
“ To be wise thc dull brain so carnestly throbs, is only a few delicate spirits who are suffi
Bring bands of wine for the stupid head.” cient to see that the whole web of con
“ The Builder of heaven vention is the imbecility of those whom it
Hatlı sundered the earth , entangles,—that the mind suffers no relig
So that no footway ion and no empire but its own. It indi
Leads out of it forth . cates this respect to absolute truth by the
" On turnpikes of wonder use it makes of the symbols that are most
Winc leuds the mind forth , stable and reverend, and therefore is
Straight , sidewise, and upward, always provoking the accusation of irre
West, southward, and north .
ligion.
“ Stands the vault adamantine Hypocrisy is the perpetual butt of his
Until the Doomsday ; arrows.
The wine- cup shall ferry
Theo o'cr it away." “ Let us draw the cowl through the brook of
wine. "
That hardihood and self-equality of
every sound nature, which result from He tells his mistress, that not the dervis,
the feeling that the spirit in him is en- or the monk , but the lover, has in his heart
tire and as good as the world , which en- the spirit which makes the ascetic and
title the poet to speak with authority , the saint ; and certainly not their cowls
and make him an object of interest, and and mummeries, but her glances, can
his every phrase and syllable significant impart to him the fire and virtue needful
are in Hafiz, and abundantly fortify and for such self-denial. Wrong shall not be
ennoble his tone. wrong to Hafiz , for the name's sake. A
His was the fluent mind in which law or statute is to him what a fence is to
every thought and feeling came readily a nimble schoolboy,-a temptation for a
66
to the lips. “ Loose the knots of the jump. “ We would do nothing but good ;
heart,” he says. We absorb elements else would shame come to us on the day
enough, but have not leaves and lungs when the soul must hic hence ;-and
for healthy perspiration and growth. An should they then deny us Paradise, the
 728 Persian Poetry [ April,
Houris themselves would forsake that, pebble more in the eternal vortex and
and come out to us. " revolution of Fate:
His complete intellectual emancipation
“ I am : what I am
he communicates to the reader. There is My dust will be again ."
no example of such facility of allusion ,
such use of all materials. Nothing is too A saint might lend an ear to the riotous
high, nothing too low, for his occasion . fun of Falstaff'; for it is not created to
He fears nothing, he stops for nothing. excite the animal appetites,but to vent
Love is a leveller, and Allah becomes a the joy of a supernal intelligence. In
groom , and heaven a closet, in his dar- all poetry, Pindar's rule bolds,-Overois
ing hymns to his mistress or to his cup ouvei, it speaks to the intelligent; and
bearer. This boundless charter is the Hafiz is a poet for poets, whether he
right of genius. “ No evil fate,” said write, as sometimes, with a parrot's, or,
.

Beethoven, “can befall my music, and as at other times, with an eagle's quill.
he to whom it is become intelligible must Every song of Hafiz affords new proof
becomc free from all the paltriness which of the unimportance of your subject to
the others drag about with them . ” success, provided only the treatment be
We do not wish to strew sugar on bot cordial. In general, what is more te
tled spiders, or try to make mystical di dious than dedications or panegyrics ad
vinity out of the Song of Solomon, much dressed to grandees ? Yet in the “Di
less out of the erotic and bacchanalian van ” you would not skip them , since bis
songs of Hafiz . Hafiz himself is deter- muse seldoin supports him better.
mined to dety all such hypocritical inter- What lovelier forms things wear,
pretation, and tears off his turban and Now that the Shah comes back ! "
throws it at the head of the meddling
dervis, and throws his glass after the And again :
turban . But the love or the wine of “ Thy foes to hunt, thy enviers to strike
Hafiz is not to be confounded with vul down ,
gar debauch. Poises Arcturus aloſt morning and evening
It is the spirit in which his spear."
the song is written that imports, and not
the topics. Hafiz praises wine, roses, And again :
G
maidens, boys, birds, mornings, and mu “ Mirza ! where thy shadow falls,
sic, to give vent to his immense hilarity Beauty sits and Music calls ;
and sympathy with every form of beauty Where thy form and favor come,
All good creatures have their home."
and joy ; and lays the emphasis on these
to mark his scorn of sanctimony and base Here are a couple of stately compli
prudence. These are the natural topics ments to his Shah, from the kindred
and language of his wit and perception . genius of Enweri:
But it is the play of wit and the joy of “ Not in their liouses stand the stars,
song that he loves ; and if you mistake But o'er the pinnacles of thine ! "
him for a low rioter, he turns short on “From thy worth and weight the stars gravi.
you with verses which express the pov- tate,
crty of sensual joys, and to ejaculate with And the equipoise of heaven is thy house's
11
equal fire the most unpalatable aſfirma cquipoise !
tions of heroic sentiment and contempt It is told of Hafiz, that, when he had
for the world . Sometimes it is a glance written a compliment to a handsome
from the height of thought, as thus : youth , —
“ Bring wine ; for, in the audience -hall “ Take my heart in thy hand, O beautiful boy
of the soul's independence, what is senti- of Schiraz !
nel or Sultan ? what is the wise man or I would give for the mole on thy cheek Sam
the intoxicated ? ” — and sometimes his marcand and Buchara !"
feast, feasters, and world are only one the verses came to the cars of Timour
1858.] Persian Poetry
in his palace. Timour taxed Hafiz with
treating disrespectfully his two cities, to
raise and adorn which he had conquered
dations. IIafiz replied, “ Alas, my lord ,
if I had not been so prodigal, I had not
been so poor !”
The Persians had aa modle of establish-
ing copyright the most secure of any
contrivance with which we are acquaint
ed. The law of the ghaselle, or shorter
ode, requires that the poet insert his
nane in the last stanza. Almost every
one of several hundreds of poems of
Hafiz contains his name thus interwoven
more or less closely with the subject of
the piece. It is itself a test of skill, as
this self-naming is not quite easy. We
remember but two or three examples in
English poctry : that of Chaucer, in the
“ House of Fame” ; Jonson's epitaph on
his son ,
" Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry " ;
and Cowley's ,
“ Thc melancholy Cowley lay.”
But it is easy to Hafiz. It gives him
the opportunity of the most playful self
assertion, always gracefully, sometimes
almost in the fun of Falstaff, sometimes
with feminine delicacy. He tells us,
He asserts his dignity as bard and in
“ The angelsin heaven were lately learn- spired man of his people. To the vizier
ing his last pieces.” He says, “ The fish- returning from Mecca he says,
es shed their pearls, out of desire and
longing, as soon as the ship of Hafiz
swims the deep. "
« Out of the East, and out of the West, no
man understands me ;
Oh, the happier I, who confide to none but
the wind !
This morning licard I how the lyre of the
stars resounded,
' Sweeter toncs have we heard from Hafiz ! " "
Again ,
“ I heard the harp of the planet Venus, and
it said in the early morning, ' I am the dis
ciple of the sweet- voiced Hafiz !'
And again ,
“ When Hafiz singe, the angels hearken ,
and Anaitis, the leader of the starry host,
calls cven thc Messiah in heaven out to the
dance."
“ No one has unveiled thouglıts like Hafiz ,
729
since the locks of the Word -bride were first
curled ."
“ Only he despises the verse of Hafiz who
is not himself by nature noble .”
But we must try to give some of these
poetic flourishes the metrical form which
they seem to require :
“ Fit for the Pleinds' azure chord
The songs I sung, the pearls bored."
Another :
“ I have no hoarded treasure ,
Yet have I rich content;
The first from Allah to the Shah ,
The last to Hafiz went. "
Another :
“ High heart, O Hafiz ! though not thino
Fine gold and silver ore ;
Dore worth to thce the giſt of song,
And the clear insight more ."
Again :
“ Thou foolish Hafiz ! say, do churls
know the worth of Oman's pearls ?
Give the gem which dims the moon
To the noblest, or to none."
Again :
“ O Hafiz ! speak not of thy need ;
Are not thcsc verses thine ?
Then all the poets are agreed,
No inan can less repinc."
“ Boast not rashly , prince of pilgrims, of
thy fortune. Thou hast indeed seen the
temple ; but I, the Lord of the temple. Nor
has any man inhaled from the musk -bladder
of the merchant, or from the musky morning
wind, that sweet air which I am permitted to
breathe every hour of the day."
And with still more vigor in the following
lines :
“ Oft have I said, I say it once more ,
I, a wanderer, do not stray from myself.
I am a kind of parrot; the mirror is holden
to me ;
What the Eternal says, I stammering say
again.
Give me what you will; I eat thistles as
roses ,
And according to my food I grow and I
give.
Scorn mc not, but know I have the pearl,
And am only seeking one to receive it."
730 Persian Poetry.
And his claim has been admitted from
the first. The muleteers and camel
drivers, on their way through the desert,
sing snatches of his songs, not so much
for the thought, as for their joyful tem-
per and tone ; and the cultivated Per-
sians know his pocins by heart. Yet
Hafiz does not appear to have set any
great value on his songs, since his schol
ars coilected them for the first time after
his death .
In the following poem the soul is fig-
ured as the Phænix alighting on the Tree
of Life :
“ My plicnix long ago secured
His nest in the sky-vault's cope ;
In the body's cage immured,
lle is weary of life's hope.
“ Round and round this heap of ashes
Now flics the biri amain ,
But in that odorous niche of heaven
Nestles the bird again.
“ Once flies he upward, he will perch
On Tuba's golden bough ;
His home is on that fruited arch
Which cools the blest below.
" If over this world of ours
His wings my phænix spread,
How gracious falls on land and sea
The soul-refreshing shade !
“ Either world inhabits he,
Secs oſt below him planets roll ;
His body is all of air compact,
Of Allah's love his soul.""
Here is an ode which is said to be a
favorite with all educated Persians :
Come ! -the palace of heaven rests on aëry
pillars,
Come, and bring me wine ; our days are wind.
I declare myself the slave of that masculine
soul
Which tics and alliance on earth once forever
renounces .
Told I thee yester-morn how the Iris of heaven
Brought to me in my cup a gospel of joy ?
O high -flying fulcon ! the Tree of Life is thy
perch ;
This nook of grief fits thee ill for a nest.
Hearken ! they call to thee down from the
ramparts of hearen ;
I cannot divine what holds thce here in a net.
I, too, have a counsel for thee ; oh , mark it and
kccp it,
[ April,
Since I received the same from the Master
above :
Seek not for faith or for truth in a world of
light-minded girls ;
thousand suitors reckons this dangerous
bride.
This jest ( of the world) , which tickles me,
leave to my vagabond self.
Accept whatever befalls; uncover tlıy brow
from thiy locks ;
Neither to me nor to thee was option imparted ;
Neither endurance nor truth belongs to the
laugh of the rose.
The loving nightingale mourns; -cause enow
for mourning;
Why envies the bird the streaming verses of
Hafiz ?
Know that a god bestowed on him eloquent
spccch ."
Here is a little epitaph that might
have come from Simonides :
“ Bethink, poor heart, what bitter kind of jest
Mad Destiny this tender stripling played :
For a warm brcast of ivory to his breast,
She laid a slab.of marble on his head."
The cedar, the cypress, the palm, the
olive, and fig -tree, and the birds that in
habit them , and the garden flowers, are
never wanting in these musky verses,
and are always named with effect
“ The willows,” he says, “ bow them
selves to every wind, out of shame for
their unfruitfulness ." We may open
anywhere on a floral catalogue.
“ By breath of beds of roscs drawn,
I found the grove in the morning pure,
In the concert of the nightingales
My drunken brain to cure.
" With unrelated glance
I looked the rose in the erc ;
The rose in the hour of gloruning
Flamed like a lamp hard -by .
u She was of her beauty prond,
And prouder of ler youth ,
The while unto her flaming licart
The bulbul gave his truth .
“ The sweet narcissus closed
Its cye, with passion pressed ;
The tulips out of envy burned
Moles in their scarlet brcast.
“ The lilies white prolonged
Their sworded tongue to the smell;
The clustering anoniones
Their pretty secrets tell.”
1858.] Persian Poetry.
Presently we have ,
“ All day the rain
Bathed the dark hyacinths in vain,
The flood may pour froin morn till night
Nor wash the pretty Indians white . "
And so onward, through many a page.
The following verse of Omar Chiam
seems to belong to Hafiz :
“ Each spot where tulips prank their state
Has drunk the life -blood of the great;
The violets yon fields which stain
Are moles of beautics Time hath slain ."
As might this picture of the first days of
Spring, from Enweri:
" O'er the garden water goes the wind alone
To rasp and to polish the cheek of the
wave ;
The fire is quenched on the dear hearth-
stone,
But it burns again on the tulips brave.”
Friendship is a favorite topic of the own orbit well enough ; butwhen she saw
Eastern poets, and they have matched on the curve on Zuleika's cheek, she was at
this head the absoluteness of Montaigne. a loss :
Hafiz says, –
“ Thou learnest no secret until thou know
est friendship ; since to the unsound no heav
enly knowledge enters."
Ibn Jemin writes thus :
u Whilst I disdain the populace,
I find no peer in higher place.
Friend is a word of royal tone,
Friend is a poem all alone.
Wisdom is like the elephant,
Lofty and rare inhabitant :
He dwells in deserts or in courts;
With hucksters he has no resorts. "
Dschami says ,
“ A friend is he, who, hunted as a foe,
So much the kindlier shows him than
before ;
Throw stones at him , or ruder javelins
throw,
Ho builds with stone and stcel a firmer
floor."
Of the amatory poetry of Hafiz we
must be very sparing in our citations,
though it forms the staple of the “ Di
van .” He has run through the whole
gamut of passion ,--- from the sacred , to
731
the borders, and over the borders, of the
profane. The same confusion of high
and low, the celerity of fight and allusion
which our colder muses forbid , is habitual
to him . From the plain text, —
“ The chemist of love
Will this perishing mould,
Werc it made out of mire,
Transmute into gold ,"
or, from another favorite legend of his
chemistry ,
“ They say, through patience, chalk
Becomes a ruby stone ;
Ali, yes, but by the true heart's blood
The chalk is crimson grown,"
he proceeds to the celebration of his
passion ; and nothing in his religious or
in his scientific traditions is too sacred or
too remote to afford a token of his mis
tress. The Moon thought she knew her
" And since round lines are drawn
My darling's lips about,
The very Moon looks puzzled on ,
And hesitates in doubt
If the sweet curve that rounds thy mouth
Be not her true way to the South ."
His ingenuity never sleeps :
“ Ah, could I hide me in my song,
To kiss thy lips from which it flows !"
and plays in a thousand pretty courte
sics :
“ Fair fall thy soft heart !
A good work wilt thou do ?
Oh , pray for the dead
Whom thinc eyclashes slow ! "
And what a nest has he found for his
bonny bird to take up her abode in !
“ They strow in the path of kings and czars
Jewels and gems of price ;
But for thy head I will pluck down stare,
And pave thy way with eyes.
“ I have sought for thee n costlier domo
Than Mahmoud's palace high ,
And thou , returning, find thy homo
In the apple of Love's eye."
 732
Nor shall Death snatch her from his pur
suit :
" If my darling should depart
And search the skies for prouder friends,
God forbid my angry heart
In other love should seek amends !
u When the blue horizon's lioop
Me a little pinches here,
On the instant I will die
And go find thee in the sphere. "
Then we have all degrees of passionate
abandonment:
“ I know this perilous love-lane
No whither the traveller leads,
Yet my fincy the swect scent of
Thy tangled tresses fecds.
“ In the midnight of thy locks,
I renounce the day ;
In the ring of thy rose-lips,
Dly heart forgets to pray."
And sometimes his love rises to a relig.
ious sentiment :
66
Plunge in yon angry waves,
Renouncing doubt and care ;
The flowing of the seven broad seas
Shall never wet thy hair.
“ Is Allah's face on thee
Bending with love benign ,
And thou not less on Allali's eye
O fairest ! turnest thine."strong tendency of the Persian poets to
contemplative and religious poetry and
We add to these fragments of Hafiz a to allegory.
few speciinens from other poets.
CHIODSCHIU KERJANI.
THE EXILE .
" In Farsistan the violet spreads
Its leaves to the rival sky,
I ask, How far is the Tigris flood,
And the vine that grows thereby ?
" Except the amber morning wind,
Not onc saluted me here ;
There is no man iu : ll Bagdad
To offer the exile cheer .
" I know that thou , O morning wind,
O'er Kerman's meadow blowest,
And thou , lic:urt-warming nightingale,
My father's orchard knowest.
“ Oh , why did partial Fortune
Froin that bright land banish me ?
So long as I wait in Bandad,
The Tigris is all I see.
Persian Poetry .
[ April,
“ The merchant hath stuffs of price,
And gems from the sen -washed strand,
And princes offer me grace
To stay in the Syrian land :
" But what is gold for but for gifts ?
And dark without love is the day ;
And all that I see in Bagdad
Is the Tigris to float me away."
NISAMI.
" WALE roses bloomed along the plain,
The nightingale to the falcon said,
" Why, of all birds, must thou be dumb ?
With closed mouth thou utterest ,
Though dring, no last word to man.
Yet sitt'st thou on the band of princes ,
And feelest on the grouse's breasl ,
Whilst I, who hundred thousand jewels
Squander in a single tone,
Lo ! I feed myself with worms,
And my dwelling is the thorn .'
The falcon answered , “ Be all ear:
I, experienced in affairs,
See filty things, say never one ;
But thee the people prizes not,
Who, doing nothing, say'st a thousand.
To me, appointed to the chase,
The king's hand gives the grouse's breast ;
Whilst a chatterer like thee
Must gnaw worms in the thorn. Farewell ! ' "
The following passages exhibit the
ENWERI.
BODY AND SOUL.
“ A PAIXTER in China once painted a hall ;
Such a web never hung on an emperor's
wall ;
One hall from his brush with rich colors did
run ,
The other he touched with a beam of the
suin ;
So that all which delighted the eye in one
side ,
The same, point for point, in the other re
plied.
“ In thee, friend, that Tyrian chamber is
ſound ;
Thine the star -pointing roof, and the base
on the ground :
Is one half depicted with colors less bright ?
Beware that the counterpart blazes with
light ! "
1858. ] Persian Poetry.
IBN JEMIN.
“ I READ on the porch of a palace bold
In a purple tablet letters cast ,
' A house, though a million winters old,
A house of earth comes down at last ;
Then quarry thy stones from the crystal All,
And build the dome that shall not fall.' "
“ What need,” cries the mystic Feisi,
“ of palaces and tapestry ? What need
even of a bed ?
“ The cternal Watcher, who doth wake
All night in the body's earthen chest,
Will of thine arms a pillow make,
And a bolster of thy breast."
A stanza of Hilali on a Flute is a lux
ury of idealisin :
" Hear what, now loud, now low, the pining
flute complains,
Without tongue, yellow-cheeked, full of
winds that wail and sigh,
Saying, “ Sweetheart, the old mystery re-
mains,
If I am I, thou thou, or thou art I.' ”
Ferideddin Attar wrote the “Bird
Conversations," a mystical tale, in which
the birds, coming together to choose their
king, resolve on a pilgrimage to Mount
Kaf, to pay their homage to the Simorg.
From this poem , written five hundred
years ago, we cite the following passage,
as a proof of the identity of mysticism
in all periods. The tone is quite modern .
In the fable, the birds were soon weary
of the length and difficulties of the way , dervises , it seems, is an astronomical
and at last almost all gave out. Three dance, in which the dervis imitates the
only persevered, and arrived before the
throne of the Simorg.
u The bird - soul was ashamed ;
Their body was quite annihilated ;
They had cleaned themselves from the dust,
And were by the light ensouled .
What was, and was not the Past ,
Was wiped out from their breast.
The sun from near-by beamed
Clearest light into their soul;
The resplendence of the Simorg beamed
As one back from all three.
They knew not, amazed , if they
Were either this or that.
They saw themselves all as Simorg,
Themselves in the eternal Simorg .
When to the Simorg up they looked ,
They beheld him among themselves ;
733
And when they looked on cach other,
They saw theinselves in the Simorg.
A single look grouped the two parties,
The Simorg emerged , the Simorg vanished,
This in that, and that in this,
As the world has never heard.
So remained they, sunk in wonder,
Thoughtless in deepest thinking,
And quite unconscious of themselves.
Speechless prayed they to the Highest
To open this secret,
And to unlock Thou and We.
There came an answer without tongue.
" The Highest is a sun -mirror;
Who comes to Him sees himself therein ,
Sees body and soul , and soul and body:
When you came to the Simorg,
Three therein appeared to you,
And, had fifty of you come,
So had you seen yourselves as many.
Him has none of us yet seen .
Ants see not the Pleindes.
Can the gnat grasp with his teeth
The body of the elephant ?
What you see is He not ;
What you hear is He not.
The valleys which you traverse,
The actions which you perform ,
They lie under our treatment
And among our properties.
You as three birds are ainazed ,
Impatient, heartless, confused :
Far over you am I raised,
Since I am in act Siinorg.
Ye blot out my liighest being,
That ye may find yourselves on my throne;
Forever ye blot out yourselves,
As shadows in the sun. Farewell ! ' "
Among the religious customs of the
movements of the heavenly bodies by
spinning on his own axis, whilst, at the
same time, he revolves round the sheikh
in the centre, representing the sun ; and
as he spins, he sings the song of Seid
Nimetollab of Kubistan :
“ Spin the ball! I reel, I burn,
Nor head from foot can I discern ,
Nor my heart from love of mine,
Nor the wine-cup from the wine.
All my doing, all my leaving,
Reaches not to my perceiving.
Lost in whirling spheres I rove,
And know only that I love.
" I am seeker of the stone,
Living gem of Solomon ;
734 The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table.
From the shore of souls arrived,
In the sea of sense I dived ;
But what is land, or what is wave ,
To me who only jewels crave ?
Love's the air -fed fire intense ,
My heart is the frankincense;
As the rich aloes flames, I glow,
Yet the censer cannot know.
I'm all-knowing, yet unknowing;
Stand not, pause not, in my going.
" Ask not me, as Muftis can,
To recite the Alcoran ;
[ April,
Well I love the meaning sweet,--
I tread the book beneath my feet.
“ Lo ! the God's love blazes higher,
Till all difference expire.
What are Moslems ? what are Giaours ?
All are Love's, and all are ours.
I embrace the true believers,
But I reck not of deceivers.
Firm to heaven my bosom clings,
Heedless of inferior things ;
Down on earth there, underfoot,
What men chatter know I not.”

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST - TABLE .

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.

Sıx has many tools, but a lie is the “ Good Americans, when they die, go
bandle which fits them all. to Paris. "
-I think, Sir, -- said the divinity- -The divinity -student looked grave
student, - you must intend that for one of at this, but said nothing.
the sayings of the Seven Wise Men of The schoolmistress spoke out, and said
Boston you were speaking of the other she didn't think the wit meant any ir
day. reverence. It was only another way of
I thank you, my young friend ,—was saying, Paris is a heavenly place after
my reply ,—but I must say something New York or Boston.
better than that, before I could pretend to A jaunty -looking person, who had come
fill out the number. in with the young fellow they call John,
- The schoolmistress wanted to know evidently a stranger,-- said there was
how many of these sayings there were on one more wise man's saying that he had
record , and what, and by whom said. heard ; it was about our place, but be
-Why, let us see , -there is that one didn't know who said it.- A civil curi
of Benjamin Franklin, “ the great Bos- osity was manifested by the company to
tonian , ” after whom this lad was named. hear the fourth wisc saying. I heard him
To be sure, he said a great many wise distinctly whispering to the young fel
things, -and I don't feel sure he didn't low who brought him to dinner, Shall I
borrow this,—he speaks as if it were old . To which the answer was, Go
tell it ?
But then he applied it so neatly ! ahead !-Well,-he said , -this was what
“ He that has once donc you a kindness I heard:
will be more ready to do you another “ Boston State -House is the hub of the
than he whom you yourself have obliged.” solar system. You couldn't pry that out
Then there is that glorious Epicurcan of a Boston man , if you had the tire of
paradox, uttered by my friend, the His- all creation straightened out for a crow
torian, in one of his flashing moments :- bar."
“ Give us the luxuries of life, and we Sir,—said 1, – I am gratified with your
-

will dispense with its necessaries. ” remark . It expresses with pleasing vi

To these must certainly be added that vacity that which I have sometimes
other saying of one of the wittiest of heard uttered with malignant dulness.
men :
The satire of the remark is essentially
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 735

true of Boston,-and of all other consid- quoted. There can never be a real me
erable — and inconsiderable - places with tropolis in this country, until the biggest
which I have had the privilege of being centre can drain the lesser ones of their
acquainted. Cockneys think London is talent and wealth. I have observed, by
the only place in the world . Frenchmen the way, that the people who really live
--you remember the line about Paris, the in two great cities are by no means so
Court, the World, ctc.- I recollect well, jealous of each other, as are those of
by the way, a sign in that city which ran smaller cities situated within the intel
thus :: “ Hôtel de l'Univers et des États lectual basin, or suclion -range, of one
Unis " ; and as Paris is the universe to a large one, of the pretensions of any other.
Frenchman, of course the United States Don't you see why ? Because their prom
66
are outside of it.— “ See Naples and then ising young author and rising lawyer and
die .” — It is quite as bad with smaller large capitalist have been drained off to
places. I have been about, lecturing, the neighboring big city,—their prettiest
you know, and have found the following girl has been exported to the same mar
propositions to hold true of all of them . ket ; all their ambition points there, and
1. The axis of the carth sticks out visi- all their thin gilding of glory comes from
bly through the centre of each and every there. I hate little toad -cating cities.
town or city. -Would I be so good as to specify
2. If more than fifty years have passed any particular example ? -Oh, —an ex
since its foundation, it is affectionately ample ? Did you ever see a bear-trap ?
styled by the inhabitants the “good old Never ? Well, shouldn't you like to see
town of ” ( whatever its name me put my foot into one ? With senti
may happen to be ). ments of the highest consideration I must
3. Every collection of its inhabitants beg leave to be excused.
that comes together to listen to a stranger Besides, some of the smaller cities are
is invariably declared to be a “ remark- charming. If they have an old church
ably intelligent audience. " or two, a few stately mansions of former
4. The climate of the place is partic- grandees, here and there an old dwelling
ularly favorable to longevity. with the second story projecting, ( for
5. It contains several persons of vast the convenience of shooting the Indians
talent little known to the world . (One knocking at the front -door with their
or two of them , you may perhaps chance tomahawks,) - if they have, scattered
to remember, sent short pieces to the about, those mighty square houses built
66
“ Pactolian " some time since, which were something more than half a century ago,
“ respectfully declined .") and standing like architectural bould
Boston is just like other places of its ers dropped by the former diluvium of
size ;-- only, perhaps, considering its ex- wealth , whose refluent wave has left them
cellent fish -market, paid fire-department, as its monument, -if they have gardens
superior monthly publications, and correct with elbowed apple -trees that push their
habit of spelling the English language, it branches over the high board -fence and
has some right to look down on the mob drop their fruit on the side-walk ,—if they
of cities. I'll tell you, though, if you have a little grass in the side-streets,
want to know it, what is the real offence enough to betoken quiet without pro
of Boston. It drains a large water -shed claiming decay, I think I could go to
of its intellect, and will not itself be pieces, after my life's work were done, in
drained. If it would only send away its one of those tranquil places, as sweetly
first-rate men, instead of its second -rate as in any cradle that an old man may be
oncs, (no offence to the well-known ex- rocked to sleep in. I visit such spots
ceptions, of which we are always proud,) always with infinite delight. My friend ,
we should be spared such epigrammatic the Poet, says, that rapidly growing towns
remarks as that which the gentleman has are most unfavorable to the imaginative
736 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ April,
and reflective faculties. of these keys of the side -door. The fact
Let a man live
in one of these old quiet places, he says,
of possessing one renders those even who
and the wine of his soul, which is kept are dear to you very terrible at times.
thick and turbid by the rattle of busy You can keep the world out from your
streets, settles, and, as you hold it up, you front-door, or receive visitors only when
may see the sun through it by day and you are ready for them ; but those of
the stars by night. your own flesh and blood, or of certain
-Do I think that the little villages grades of intimacy, can come in at the
have the conceit of the great towns ?- side -door, if they will, at any hour and in
I don't believe there is much difference . any mood . Some of them have a scale
You know how they read Pope's line in of your whole nervous system, and can
the smallest town in our State of Massa- play all the gamut of your sensibilities in
chusetts ?-Well, they read it semitones, - touching the naked nerve
5
"All arc but parts of one stupendous Hull ! ” pulps as a pianist strikes the keys of his
instrument. I am satisfied that there are
-Every person's feelings have a as great masters of this nerve -playing as
front-door and a side-door by which they Vieuxtemps or Thalberg in their lines of
may be entered. The front door is on performance. Married life is the school
the street. Some keep it always open ; in which the most accomplished artists
some keep it latched ; some, locked ; some, in this department are found. A deli
bolted, with a chain that will let you cate woman is the best instrument ; she
pecp in , but not get in ; and some nail has such a magnificent compass of scnsi
it up, so that nothing can pass its thresh- bilities ! From the deep inward moan
old . This front-door leads into a passage which follows pressure on the great
which opens into an ante -room , and this nerves of right, to the sharp cry as the
into the interior apartments. The side- filaments of taste are struck with a crash
door opeus at once into the sacred cham- ing sweep, is a range which no other in
bers. strument possesses. A few exercises on
There is almost always at least one it daily at home fit a man wonderfully
key to this side- door. This is carried for his habitual labors, and refresh him
for years hidden in a mother's bosom . immensely as he returns from them. No
Fathers, brothers, sisters, and friends, stranger can get a great many notes of
often, but by no means so universally, torture out of aa human soul; it takes one
have duplicates of it. The wedding-ring that knows it well,-parent, child , broth
conveys a right to one ; alas, if none is cr, sister, intimate. Be very careful to
given with it ! whom you give a side-door key ; too
If nature or accident has put one of many have them already.
these keys into the hands of a person -You remember the old story of
who has the torturing instinct, I can only the tender-hearted man , who placed a
solemnly pronounce the words that Jus- frozen viper in his bosom , and was stung
tice utters over its doomed victim ,—The by it when it became thawed ? If we
Lord have mercy on your soul ! You take a cold blooded creature into our
will probably go mad within a reason- bosom , better that it should sting us and
able tiine, or, if you are a man, run off we should dic than that its chill should
and die with your head on a curb -stone, slowly steal into our hearts ; warm it we
in Melbourne or San Francisco ,—or, if never can ! I have seen faces of women
you are a woman, quarrel and break that were fair to look upon, yet one could
your heart, or turn into a pale, jointed see that the icicles were forming round
petrifaction that moves about as if it these women's hearts. I knew what
were alive, or play some real life-tragedy freezing image lay on the white breasts
or other. beneath the laces !
Be very careful to whom you trust one A very simple intellectual mechanism
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 737

answers the necessities of friendship, and bred among them , and have the easy
even of the most intimate relations of feeling, when I get into their presence,
life. If a watch tells us the hour and that a stable -boy has among horses. I
the minute, we can be content to carry don't think I undervalue them either as
it about with us for a life - time, though it companions or as instructors. But I
has no second -hand, and is not a repeat- can't help remembering that the world's
er, nor a musical watch , —though it is not great men have not commonly been great
enamelled nor jewelled , -in short, though scholars, nor its great scholars great men.
it has little beyond the wheels required The Hebrew patriarchs bad small libra
for a trustworthy instrument, added to a ries, I think , if any ; yet they represent
yood face and a pair of useful bands. to our imaginations a very complete idea
The more wheels there are in a watch of manhood , and, I think , if we could ask
or a brain , the more trouble they are to in Abraham to dine with us men of let
takc care of. The movements of exal- ters next Saturday , we should feel hon
tation which belong to genius are egotis- ored by his company .
tic by their very nature . A calm, clear What I wanted to say about books is
mind , not subject to the spasms and crises this : that there are times in which every
that are so often met with in creative or active mind feels itself above any and all
intensely perceptive natures, is the best human books.
basis for love or friendship . — Observe, I I think a man must have a good
am talking about minds. I won't say, the opinion of himself, Sir ,—said the divinity
more intellect, the less capacity for lov- student,—who should feel himself above
ing ; for that would do wrong to the un- Shakspeare at any time.
derstanding and reason ; — but, on the My young friend, - I replied, - the
other hand, that the brain often runs man who is never conscious of any state
away with the heart's best blood , which of feeling or of intellectual effort entirely
gives the world a few pages of wisdom beyond expression by any form of words
or sentiment or poetry, instead of mak- whatsoever is a mere creature of lan
ing one other heart happy, I have no guage . I can hardly believe there are
question. any such men. Why, think for a mo
If one's intimate in love or friend- ment of the power of music. The nerves
ship cannot or does not share all one's that make us alive to it spread out ( so
intellectual tastes or pursuits, that is a the Professor tells me) in the most sensi
small matter. Intellectual companions tive region of the marrow , just where it is
can be found casily in men and books. widening to run upwards into the hemi
After all, if we think of it, most of the spheres. It has its seat in the region of
world's loves and friendships have been sense rather than of thought. Yet it pro
a
between people that could not read nor duces a continuous and, as it were, logical
spell. sequence of emotional and intellectual
But to radiate the beat of the affections changes; but how different from trains
into a clod , which absorbs all that is pour- of thought proper ! how entirely beyond
ed into it, but never warms beneath the the reach of symbols Think of human
sunshine of smiles or the pressure of hand passions as compared with all phrases !
or lip,—this is the great martyrdom of Did you ever hear of a man's growing
sensitive beings,-most of all in that per- lean by the reading of “ Romeo and Ju
petual auto da fé where young woman- liet,” or blowing his brains out because
hood is the sacrifice. Desdemona was maligned ? There are
You noticed, perhaps, what I just a good many symbols, even, that are
said about the loves and friendships of more expressive than words. I remem
illiterate persons,—that is, of the human ber a young wife who had to part with
race, with a few exceptions here and her husband for a time. She did not
there. I like books, - ) was born and write a mournful poem ; indeed, she was
VOL. I. 47
738 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ April,
a silent person , and perhaps hardly said I always believed in life rather than in
a word about it ; but she quietly turned books. I suppose every day of earth,
of a deep orange color with jaundice. A with its hundred thousand deaths and
great many people in this world have but something more of births,—with its loves
one form of rhetoric for their profoundest and hates, its triumphs and defeats, its
experiences, -namely, to waste away and pangs and blisses, has more of humanity
die. When a man can read, his parox- in it than all the books that were ever
ysm of feeling is passing. When he can written, put together. I believe the flow
read , his thought has slackened its hold . crs growing at this moment send up more
-You talk about reading Shakspeare, fragrance to heaven than was ever ex
using him as an expression for the high- baled from all the essences ever distilled.
est intellect, and you wonder that any - Don't I read up various matters
common person should be so presump- to talk about at this table or elsewhere ?
tuous as to suppose his thought can rise —No, that is the last thing I would do. I
above the text which lies before him . But will tell you my rule. Talk about those
think a moment. A child's reading of subjects you have had long in your
Shakspeare is one thing, and Coleridge's mind, and listen to what others say about
or Schlegel's reading of him is another. subjects you have studied but recently.
The saturation -point of each mind differs Knowledge and timber shouldn't be much
from that of every other. But I think it is used till they are seasoned.
us true for the small mind which can only -Physiologists and metaphysicians
take up a little as for the great one which have had their attention turned a good
takes up much, that the suggested trains deal of late to the automatic and involun
of thought and feeling ought always to tary actions of the mind. Put an idea into
rise above-not the author, but the read- your intelligence and leave it there an
er's mental version of the author, whoever hour, a day, a year, without ever having
he may be. occasion to refer to it. When, at last , you
I think most readers of Shakspeare return to it, you do not find it as it was
sometimes find themselves thrown into when acquired. It has domiciliated itself,
exalted mental conditions like those pro- so to speak,-become at home,-entered
duced by music. Then they may drop into relations with your other thoughts,
the book , to pass at once into the region and integrated itself with the whole fabric
of thought without words. We may hap- of the mind . - Or take a simple and fa
pen to be very dull folks, you and I, and miliar example. You forget a name,
probably are, unless there is some parties in conversation , -go on talking, without
ular reason to suppose the contrary. But making any effort to recall it,—and pres
we get glimpses now and then of a sphere ently the mind evolves it by its own in
of spiritual possibilities, where we, dull yoluntary and unconscious action, while
as we are now, may sail in vast circles you were pursuing another train of
round the largest compass of earthly thought, and the name rises of itself to
intelligences. your lips.
-I confess there are times when I There are some curious observations
feel like the friend I mentioned to you I should like to make about the mental
some time ago, -I hate the very sight of machinery , but I think we are getting
a book . Sometimes it becomes almost a rather didactic .
physical necessity to talk out what is in -I should be gratificd, if Benjamin
the mind , before putting anything else Franklin would let me know something
into it. It is very bad to have thoughts of his progress in the French language .
and feelings, which were meant to come I rather liked that excrcise he read us
out in talk , strike in , as they say of the other day, though I must confess I
some complaints that ought to show out- should hardly dare to translate it, for fear
wardly some people in a remote city where I
1858. ] The Autocrat of the Breakfasl- Table. 739

once lived might think I was drawing ment, et voient - une grande bulle d'air, dont
their portraits. ils s'émerveillent avec effusion . Ce qui est un
-Yes, Paris is a famous place for spectacle plein d'instruction — pourceux qui ne
societies. I don't know whether the sont pas de ladite Société. Tous les membres
regardent les chimistes en particulier avec
piece I mentioned from the French un air d'intelligence parfaite pendant qu'ils
author was intended simply as Natural prouvent dans un discours d'une deniiheure
History, or whether there was not a little que 06 13 H6 C6 etc. font quelque chose qui
malice in his description . At any rate, n'est bome à rien, mais qui prob :ableinent a
when I gave my translation to B. F. to une odeur très désagréable, selon l'habitude
des produits chimiques. Après celà vient un
turn back again into French, one reason mathématicien qui vous bourre avec des atb
was that I thought it would sound aa little et vous rapporte enfin un x + y, dont vous
bald in English, and some people might n'avez pas besoin et qui ne change nullenient
think it was meant to have some local vos relations avec la vie. Un naturaliste vous
bearing or other,—which the author, of parle des formations spéciales des animaux
course , didn't mean, inasmuch as he could excessivement inconnus, dont vous n'avez
jamais soupcome l'existence. Ainsi il vous
not be acquainted with anything on this décrit les follicules de l'appendix vermiformis
side the water. d'un dzigguetai. Vous ne savez pas ce que c'est
[ The above remarks were addressed to qu'un follicule. Vous ne savez pas ce que
the schoolmistress, to whom I handed the c'est qu'un appendix vermiformis. Vous n'avez
paper after looking it over. The divinity- jamais entendu parler du dzigguetai. Ainsi
stu.lent came and read over her shoulder , vous gagnez toutes ces connaissances à la fois,
s'attachent
-very curious, apparently, but his eyes qui à votre esprit comme l'eau
adhére aux plumes d'un canard. On connait
wandered, I thought. Seeing that her toutes les langues ex officio en devenant mem
breathing was a little hurried and high, bre d'une de ces Sociétés. Ainsi quand on
or thoracic, as my friend, the Professor, entend lire un'Essai sur les dialectes Tchut
calls it, I watched her a little more close chiens, on comprend tout celi de suite, et s'in
struit énormément.
ly.—It is none of my business. - After Il y a deux espèces d'individus qu'on
all, it is the imponderables that move the trouve toujours à ces Sociétés : 1° Le mem
world ,-heat, electricity, love.—Habet.] bre à questions ; 20 Le membre à " Bylaws."
This is the piece that Benjamin Frank- La question est une spécialité. Celui qui en
lin made into boarding-school French , fait métier ne fait jamais des réponses. La
such as you see here ; don't expect too question est une manière très commode de
dire les choscs suiv :utes : “ Me voili ! Je ne
much ;—the mistakes give a relish to it, suis pas fossil, moi,-je respire encore ! J'ai
I think.
des idées ,-voyez mon intelligence ! Vous ne
croyicz pils, vous autres, que je savais quelque
LES SOCIÉTÉS POLYPHYSIOPHILOSO- chose de cela ! Ah, nous avons un peu de
PHIQUES. sagacité , voyez vouy ! Nous ne sommes nul!e
CES Sociétés là sont une Institution pour ment la bête qu'on pensc ! ” - Lefaiseur de
suppléer aux besoins d'esprit et de cæur de questions donne peu d'allention aux réponses
ces individus qui ont survécu à leurs émotions qu'on fait ; ce n'est pas là duns sa spécialité.
à l'égarı ilu bean sexe, et qui n'ont pas la dis- Le membre à “ Bylaws " est le bouchon de
traction de l'habitude de boire. toutes les émotions mousseuses et généreuses
Pour devenir meinbre d'une de ces Socié . qui se montrent dans la Société. C'est un
tés, on doit avoir le moins de cheveux possi- empereur manqué, - un tytan à la troisièine
ble. S'il y en reste plusieurs qui resistent aux trituration . C'est un esprit dur, borné, exact,
dépilatoires naturelles et autres, on doit avoir grand dans les petitesses, petit dans les gran
quelques connaissances, n'importe dans quel deurs, selon le mot du grand Jefferson. On ne
genre . Dès le moment qu'on ouvre la porte l'aime pas dans la Société , mais on le respecte
de la Société, on a un grand intérêt dans et on le craint. Il n'y a qu'un mot pour ce
toutes les choses dont on ne sait rien. Ainsi , membre audessus de “ Bylaws. " Ce mot est
un microscopiste démontre un nouveau flexion pour lui ce que l'Om est aux Hindous. C'est
du tarse d'un melolontha rulgaris. Douze sa- sa religion ; il n'y a rien audela . Ce mot là
vans improvisés, portans des besicles, et qui c'est la CoNsTITUTIOX !
ne connaissent rien des insectes, si ce n'est les Lesdites Sociétés publient des feuilletons
morsures du culer , se précipitent sur l'instru- de tems en teins . On les trouve abandonnés
740 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [April,
i sa porte, nus comme des enfans nouvean- I was going to talk about averages, I
nés, faute de membriine cutanée, ou même said ,—but I have no objection to telling
papyracée. Si on aime la botanique, on y
trouve une mémoire sur les coquilles; si on you about lectures, to begin with.
fait des études zovlogiques, on trouve un grand A new lecture always has a certain
tas de ' V - 1, ce qui doit être infiniment plus excitement connected with its delivery.
commode que les encyclopédies. Ainsi il est One thinks well of it, as of most things
clair comine la métaphysique qu'on doit de- fresh from his mind. After a few deliv
venir meinbre d'une Société telle que nous
décrivons. eries of it, one gets tired and then dis
Rerelle pour le Dépilatoire Physiophilosophique.
gusted with its repetition. Go on deliv
Chaux vive lb. ss. Eau bouillante Oj. ering it, and the disgust passes off, until,
Dépilez avec . Polissez ensuite. after one has repeated it a hundred or a
hundred and fifty times, he rather enjoys
-I told the boy that his translation the hundred and first or hundred and
into French was creditable to him ; and fifty -first time, before a new audience.
some of the company wishing to hear But this is on one condition, that he
what there was in the piece that made never lays the lecture down and lets it
me smile, I turned it into English for cool. If he does, there comes on a
them , as well as I could, on the spot. loathing for it which is intense, so that
The landlady's daughter seemed to be the sight of the old battered manuscript
much amused by the idea that a depila- is as bad as sea-sickness.
tory could take the place of literary and A new lecture is just like any other
scientific accomplishments ; she wanted new tool. We use it for a while with
me to print the piece, so that she might pleasure. Then it blisters our hands, and
send a copy of it to her cousin in Miz- we hate to touch it. By-and -by our
zourah ; she didn't think lie'd have to do bands get callous, and then we have no
anything to the outside of his bead to longer any sensitiveness about it. But
get into any of the societies ; he had to if we give it up, the calluses disappear ;
wear a wig once, when he played a part and if we meddle with it again, we miss
in a tabullo. the novelty and get the blisters. — The
No ,-said 1,—I shouldn't think of print- story is often quoted of Whitefield , that
ing that in English. I'll tell you why. As he said a sermon was good for nothing
soon as you get a few thousand people until it had been preached forty times.
together in a town, there is somebody A lecture doesn't begin to be old until
that every sharp thing you say is sure to it has passed its hundredth delivery ; and
hit. What if a thing was written in some, I think, have doubled, if not quad
Paris or in Pekin ? -- that makes no differ- rupled , that number. These old lectures
ence. Everybodly in those cities, or al- are a man's best, commonly ; they im
most everybody, has his counterpart here, prove by age, also ,-like the pipes, fiddles,
and in all large places. — You never studi- and poems I told you of the other day.
ed averages, as I have had occasion to. One learns to make the most of their
I'll tell you how I came to know so strong points and to carry off their weak
much about averages. There was one ones,—to take out the really good things
season when I was lecturing, commonly, which don't tell on the audience, and put
five evenings in the week, through most in cheaper things that do. All this de
of the lecturing period. I soon found, grades him, of course, but it improves
as most speakers do, that it was pleasant- the lecture for general delivery. A
er to work one lecture than to keep sev- thoroughly popular lecture ought to have
eral in hand . nothing in it which five hundred people
-Don't you get sick to death of one cannot all take in aa flash, just as it is ut
lecture ? -said the landlady's daughter,- tered .
who had a new dress on that day, and -No, indeed , I should be very
was in spirits for conversation. sorry to say anything disrespectful of
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfust- Table. 741

audiences. I have been kindly treated tentive. Boys in the back -ground, more
by a great many, and may occasionally or less quict. Dull faces here, there ,-in
face one hereafter. But I tell you the how many places ! I don't say dull
arerage intellect of five hundred persons, people, but faces without a ray of sym
taken as they come, is not very high. It pathy or a movement of expression.
may be sound and safe, so far as it goes, They are what kill the lecturer. These
but it is not very rapid or profound. A negative faces with their vacuous eyes
lecture ought to be something which all and stony lincamients pump and suck
can understand , about something which the warm soul out of bim ;—that is the
interests everybody. I think , that, if any chief reason why lecturers grow so pale
experienced lecturer gives you a differ- before the season is over. They render
ent account from this, it will probably be lalent any amount of vital caloric ; they
one of those eloquent or forcible speakers act on our minds as those cold -blooded
who hold an audience by the charm of crcatures I was talking about act on our
their manner, whatever they talk about, - hearts.
even when they don't talk very well. Out of all these inevitable elements
But an average, •which was what I the audience is generated , -a great com
meant to speak about, is one of the most pound vertebrate, as much like fifty
extraordinary subjects of observation and others you have seen as any two mam
study. It is awful in its uniformity, in mals of the same species are like each
its automatic necessity of action . Two other. Each audience laughs, and each
communities of ants or bees are exactly
e cries, in just the same places of your
alike in all their actions, so far as we can lecture ; that is, if you make one laugh
see. Two lyceum assemblies, of five or cry , you make all. Even those little
hundred cach, are so nearly alike, that indescribable movements which a lectur
they are absolutely undistinguishable in er takes cognizance of, just as a driv
many cases by any definite mark, and or notices his horse's cocking his ears,
there is nothing but the place and tiine are sure to come in exactly the same
by which one can tell the “ remarkably place of your lecture, always. I declare
intelligent audience ” of a town in New to you, that, as the monk said about the
York or Ohio from one in any New picture in the convent — that he some
England town of similar size. Of course, times thought the living tenants were the
if any principle of selection has come in, shadows, and the painted figures the re
as in those special associations of young alities, I have sometimes felt as if I
men which are common in cities, it de- were a wandering spirit, and this great
ranges the uniformity of the assemblage. unchanging multivertebrate which I faced
But let there be no such interfering cir- night after night was one ever-listening
cumstances, and one knows pretty well animal, which writhed along after me
even the look the audience will have, be- wherever I fed , and coiled at my feet ev
fore he goes in. Front scats : a few old ery evening, turning up to me the same
folks, shiny -headed , -- slant up best car sleepless eyes which I thought I had
towards the speaker,—drop off asleep closed with my last drowsy incantation !
after a while, when the air begins to get a -Oh, yes ! A thousand kindly and
little narcotic with carbonic acid. Bright courteous acts , -a thousand faces that
women's faces, young and middle-aged, a melted individually out of my recoller
little behind these, but toward the front tion as the April snow melts, but only to
— (pick out the best, and lecture mainly steal away and find the beds of flowers
to that). Here and there a countenance whose roots are memory, but which blos
sharp and scholarlike, and a dozen pret- som in poetry and dreams. I am not
ty female ones sprinkled about. An in- ungrateful, nor unconscious of all the
definite number of pairs of young peo- good feeling and intelligence everywhere
ple ,-happy, but not always very at- to be met with through the vast parish to
7
742 The Autocrat of the Break fust- Table . [ April,
which the lecturer ministers. But when upon mountains. He was wonderfully
1 set forth, leading a string of my mind's well acquainted with the leading facts
daughters to market, as the country-folk about the Andes, the Apennines, and the
fetch in their strings of horses Pardon Appalachians; he had nothing in particu
me, that was a coarse fellow who sneered lar to say about Ararat, Ben Nevis, and
at the sympathy wasted on an unhappy various other mountains that were men
lecturer, as it, because he was decently tioned . By and by some Revolutionary
pail tor his services, he had therefore sold anecdote came up, and he showed singu
his sensibilities. - Family men get dread- lar familiarity with the lives of the Adams
fully homesick . In the remote and bleak es, and gave many details relating to Ma
village the heart returns to the red blaze jor André. A point of Natural Ilistory
of the logs in one's fireplace at home. being suggested, he gave an excellent ac
count of the air -bladder of fishes. Ile was
" There are his young barbarians all at very full upon the subject of agriculture,
play,"
but retired from the conversation when
if he owns any youthful savages. — No, horticulture was introduced in the dis
the world has aa million roosts for a man, cussion . So he seemed well acquainted
but only one nest. with the geology of anthracite, but did
-It is a fine thing to be an oracle to not pretend to know anything of other
which an appeal is always made in all kinds of coal. There was something so
disc:ussions. The men of facts wait their odd about the extent ayd limitations of
turn in grim silence, with that slight his knowledge, that I suspected all at
tension about the nostrils which the con- once what might be the meaning of it,
sciousness of carrying a “ settler ” in the and waited till I got an opportunity:
form of aa fact or aa revolver gives the in- Have you seen the “ New American Cy
dividual thus armed . When a person is clopædia ? ” said J.—I have, he replied ;
really full of information , and does not I received an early copy . — How far does
abuse it to crush conversation, his part is it go ? -He turned red, and answered , -
to that of the real talkers what the in- To Araguay.-Oh, said I to myself, —not
strumental accompaniment is in a trio or quite so far as Ararat;- thatis the reason
quartette of vocalists. he knew nothing about it ; but he must
What do I mean by the real talk- have read all the rest straight through,
ers ?-Why, the people with fresh ideas, and, if he can remember what is in this
of course , and plenty of good warm words volume until he has read all those that
to dress them in. Facts always yield the are to come, he will know more than I
place of honor, in conversation , to thoughts ever thought he would.
about facts ; but if a false note is uttered, Since I had this experience, I hear
down comes the finger on the key and that somebody else has related aa similar
the man of facts asserts his true dignity. story. I didn't borrow it, for all that.
I have known three of these men of facts, -I made a comparison at table some
at least, who were always formidable ,- time since, which has often been quoted
and one of them was tyrannical. and received many compliments. It was
-Yes, a man sometimes inakes a that of the mind of a bigot to the pupil
grand appearance on a particular occa- of the eye ; the more light you pour on
sion ; but these men knew something about it, the more it contracts. The simile is a
almost everything, and never made mis- very obvious, and , I suppose I may now
takes.-He ? Veneers in first-rate style. say, a happy one ; for it has just been
The mahogany scales off now and then shown me that it occurs in a Preface
in spots, and then you see the cheap light to certain Political Pocms of Thomas
stuff . - I found very fine in con- Moore's, published long before my re
versational information , the other day, mark was repeated . When a person of
when we were in company. The talk ran fair character for literary honesty uses
1858. ] The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table. 743

an image such as another has employed reason to think that I had never seen or
before him, the presumption is, that he heard it when first expressed by me, and
has struck upon it independently, or as it is well known that different persons
unconsciously recalled it, supposing it may independently utter the same idea,
his own . -as is evinced by that familiar line from
It is impossible to tell, in a great many Donatus ,
cases, whether a comparison which sud " Pereant illi qui ante nos nostra dixcrunt, ”—
denly suggests itself is a new conception
or a recollection. I told you the other now, therefore, I do request by this instru
day that I never wrote a line of versement that all well-disposed persons will
that seemed to me comparatively good, abstain from asserting or implying thatI
but it appeared old at once , and often as am open to any accusation whatsoever
if it had been borrowed . But I confess touching the said comparison , and, if
I never suspected the above coinparison they have so asserted or implied, that
of being old, except from the fact of its they will have the manliness forthwith
obviousness. It is proper, however, that I to retract the same assertion or insinua
proceed by a formal instrument to relin- tion .
quish all claim to any property in an idea
given to the world at about the time I think few persons have a greater dis
when I had just joined the class in which gust for plagiarism than myself. If I
Master Thomas Moore was then a some- had even suspected that the idea in ques
what advanced scholar. tion was borrowed, I should have dis
claimed originality, or mentioned the co
I, therefore, in full possession of my na- incidence, as I once did in a case where I
tive honesty, but knowing the liability of had happened to hit on an idea of Swift's.
all men to be elected to public office, and -But what shall I do about these verses
for that reason feeling uncertain how soon I was going to read you ? I am afraid
I may be in danger of losing it, do hereby that half mankind would accuse me of
renounce all claim to being considered stealing their thoughts, if I printed them .
the first person who gave utterance to a I am convinced that several of you, es
certain simile or comparison referred to pecially if you are getting a little on
in the accompanying documents, and re- in life, will recognize some of these sen
lating to the pupil of the eye on the one timents as having passed through your
part and the mind of the bigoton the other. consciousness at some time . I can't help
I hereby relinquish all glory and profit, it — it is too late now. The verses are
and especially all claims to letters from written, and you must have them . Listen,
autograph collectors, founded upon my then , and you shall hear
supposed property in the above compari
son ,-knowing well, that, according to the
WHAT WE ALL THINK.
laws of literature, they who speak first
hold the fee of the thing said. I do also That age was older once than now,
agree that all Editors of Cyclopedias and In spite of locks untimely shed,
Biographical Dictionaries, all Publishers Or Ivered on the youthful brow ;
That babes make love and children wed .
of Reviews and Papers, and all Critics
writing therein , shall be at liberty to re That sunshine had a heavenly glow ,
tract or qualify any opinion predicated Which faded with those “ good old days,"
on the supposition that I was the sole and When winters came with deeper snow,
undisputed author of the above compari- And autumns with a softer haze.
son . But, inasmuch as I do affirm that That - mother, sister, wife, or child
the comparison aforesaid was uttered by The “ best of women " each has known.
me in the firm belief that it was new and Were schoolboys ever half so wild ?
wholly my own, and as I have good How young the grandpapas have grown!
744
That but for this our souls were free,
And but for that our lives were blest;
That in some season yet to be
Our cares will leave us time to rest.
Sandalphon. [ April,
That when we stand with tearless eye
And turn the beggar from our door,
They still approve us when we sigh ,
“Ah, lad I but one thousand more ! "

Whene'er we groan with ache or pain, That weakness smoothed the path of sin,
Some common ailment of the race, In half the slips our youth has known ;
Though doctors think the matter plain, And whatsoe'er its blame has been,
That ours is “ a peculiar case .” That Mercy flowers on faults outgrown.

That when like babes with fingers burned Though temples crowd the crumbled brink
We count one bitter maxim more, O'erhanging truth's eternal flow,
Our lesson all the world has learned, Their tablets bold with what we think,
And men are wiser than before . Their echoes dumb to what we know ;

That when we sob o'er fancied woes , That one unquestioned text we read,
The angels hovering overhead All doubt beyond, all fear above,
Count every pitving drop that flows Nor crackling pile nor cursing creed
And love us for the tears we shed. Can burn or blot it : God is Love !

SANDALPHON.
HAVE you read in the Talmud of old ,
In the legends the Rabbins have told
Of the limitless realnıs of the air,
Have you read it,—the marvellous story
Of Sandalphon, the Angel of Glory,
Sandalphon, the Angel of Prayer ?

Ilow, crect, at the outermost gates

Of the City Celestial he waits,
With his feet on the ladder of light,
That, crowded with angels unnumbered,
By Jacob was seen , as he slumbered
Alone in the desert at night ?
The Angels of Wind and of Fire
Chant only one hymn, and expire
With the song's irresistible stress ,
Expire in their rapture and wonder,
As harp-strings are broken asunder
By the music they throb to express.
But serene in the rapturous throng,
l'nmoved by the rush of the song,
With eyes unimpassioned and slow,
Among the dead angels, the deathless
Sandalphon stands listening, breathless,
To sounds that ascend from below,
1858.] Mr. Buchanan's Administration . 745

From the spirits on earth that adore,

From the souls that entreat and implore
In the frenzy and passion of prayer ,
From the hearts that are broken with losses,
And weary with dragging the crosses
Too heavy for mortals to bear.

And he gathers the prayers as he stands,

And they change into flowers in his bands,
Into garlands of purple and red ;
And beneath the great arch of the portal,
Through the streets of the City Immortal,
Is wafted the fragrance they shed .
It is but a legend, I know,
A fable, a phantom , a show
Of the ancient Rabbinical lore ;
Yet the old mediæval tradition,
The beautiful, strange superstition,
But haunts me and holds me the more .

When I look from my window at night,

Ai the welkin above is all white,
All throbbing and panting with stars,
Among them majestic is standing
Sandalphon the angel, expanding
His pinions in nebulous bars.

And the legend, I feel, is a part

Of the hunger and thirst of the heart,
The frenzy and fire of the brain,
That grasps at the fruitage forbidden,
The golden pomegranates of Eden,
To quiet its fever and pain.

MR. BUCHANAN'S ADMINISTRATION .

Mr. Bucuaxay came into power with with those timid and conservative minds,
the prestige of experience ; he was known of which there are many, apt to conceive
to have been long in public life; he had that a familiarity with the business and
been a senator, a secretary, a diplomatist, details of government is the same as
and almost everything else which is sup- statesinanship, and to confound the skill
posed to fit a man for the practical con- and facility acquired by mere routine
duct of affairs. with a genuine ability in execution. Had
This presumed fitness for office greatly these men, however, looked more closely
assisted his chances in the Presidential into Mr. Buchanan's official career, they
campaign ; and it assisted him especially would have found causes for suspecting
746 Mr. Buchanan's Administration . [ April,
the validity of their judgment, in the very command, and that the experience, for
length and variety of his services. They which he was vaunted and trusted, was
would have discovered , that, long as these not that ripening discipline of the mind
had been and various as they had been, and heart,
they were quite undistinguished by any “ which doth attain
peculiar evidences of capacity or apti To something of prophetic strain ,"
tude. but that other unlearning use and wont,
He had been senator, secretary , and which
diplomatist, it is true ; but in no one of " chews on wisdom past,
And totters on in blunders to the last.”
these positions had he achieved any re
markable successes. The occasion could His administration has been a series
Dot be indicated on which he had risen of blunders, and worse : it has evinced
above the average level of respectability no mastery ; on the other hand, it may
as a public man . There were no salient be arraigned for inconsistencies the most
points in his course,-no splendid devel- palpable, for proceedings the most awk
opments of mastery , —no great reports, or ward, for a general impotence which
speeches, or measures, to cause him to be places it on a level with that of Tyler or
remembered , —and no leading thoughts Pierce, and for signal offences against
or acts, to awaken a high and gener- the national sense of decorum and duty.
al feeling of admiration on the part of It is scarcely a year since Mr. Buchan
his countrymen . Ile was never such a an assumed the reins at Washington. He
senator as Webster was, nor such a sec- assumed them under circumstances by
retary as Clay, nor such a diplomatist which he and his party and the whole
as Marcy. Throughout his protracted country had been taught a great lesson
official existence, he followed in the wake of political duty. The infamous mis
of his party submissively, doing its ap- management of Kansas, by his immediate
pointed work with patience, and vindi- predecessor, had just shattered the most
cating its declared policy with skill, but powerful of our party organizations, and
never emerging as aa distinct and promi- caused a mighty uprising of the masses
nent figure. He never exhibited any of the North in defence of menaced free
peculiar largeness of mind or loftiness of dom. His election was carrier amid the
character; and though he spoke well and extremest hazards, and with the utmost
wrote well, and played the part of a cool difficulty. Two months more of such ar
and wary manager, he was scarcely сcon- dent debate and such popular enlighten
sidered a commanding spirit among his ment as were then going forward would
fellows. Amid that array of luminaries, have resulted in his defeat. As it was,
indeed, which adorned the Senate, where nearly every Northern State — no mat
his chief reputation was made,-among ter how firm its previous adherence to
such men as Calhoun, Clay, Webster, the Democratic party - was aroused to
Benton, and Wright,-he shone with a a strenuous opposition. Nearly every
dininished lustre . Northern State pronounced by a stupen
Now, forty years of action, in the most dous majority against him and against his
conspicuous spheres, unillustrated by a cause . Nothing but a systematic disguise
single incident which mankind has, or of the true questions at issue by his own
will have, reason to cite and applaud, party, and a gratuitous complication of the
were not astonishing evidence of fitness canvass by means of a foolish third party,
for the chief magistracy ; and the event saved his followers from the most complete
has shown, that Mr. Buchanan was to be and shameful rout that had been given for
regarded as an old politician rather than many years to any political array. Men
a prartised statesman ,—that the most of every class, of every shade of faith,
serviceable soldier in the ranks may joined in that hearty protest against the
prove to be an indifferent general in spirit which animated the Democratic ad
 1858.] Mr. Buchanan's Administration. 747

ministration, and joined in it, that they and diplomacy enough, but the policy
might utter the severest rebuke in their has been incoherent and the diplomacy
power, of its meanness and perfidy. shallow . At the end of the first year of
Mr. Buchanan ought to have read the its rule, the most striking result of its
warning which was thus blazed across the general management is the open defec
political skies, like the hand-writing upon tion of many of its most powerful friends,
the wall. He ought to have discerned in and the increased earnestness and ener
this general movement the signs of a deep, gy of all its foes.
earnest, and irrepressible conviction on The difficulty with thc Mormons orig
the part of the North. It is no slight inated, before the accession of the pres
cause which can start such general and ent administration, in a lasty and im
enthusiastic expressions of popular feel- proper extension of the Federal authori
ing ; they cannot be manufactured ; they ty over a people whose customs and re
are not the work of mere party excite- ligious opinions were utterly incompati
ment; there is nothing spurious and ble with those of our own people. The
nothing hollow in them ; but they well inhabitants of Utah were averse from
up from the deep heart of nations, show- the outset to the kind of government
ing that a choril of sympathy has been provided for them at Washington. Har
touched , with which it is fatal to tampering adopted a form of society more like
or to sport. Call it fanaticism , if you that of Congo and Dahomey than of the
will ; call it delusion ; call it anything; United States, and having accepted too
but recollect also that it is out of such literally the prevalent dogma, that cvery
feelings that revolutions are born, and by community has the right to forin its own
them that awful national crises are deter- institutions for itself, —they preferred the
mined. polygamy of barbarism to the monogamy
But Mr. Buchanan has not profited, as of civilization, and the rod of the priest
7

we shall see, by the monition. His initial prophet Brigham or the seal of Elder
act, the choice of aa cabinet, in which the Pratt to the sceptre of Governor Step
only man of national reputation was su- toe or the sword of Colonel Johnston.
perannuated, and the others were of little Under these circumstances, the duty of
the government of the United States was
note , gave small hope that he would do so ;
and his subsequent mistakes might have to relinquish its pretensions to supremacy
been augured from the calibre of the over a nation opposed to its rule, or to
counsellors by whom he chose to be sur- maintain that supremacy, if it were ne
rounded . — But let the men pass, since cessary, with a strong and unflinching
our object is to discuss measures. hand. Mr. Buchanan , on his own prin
The questions with which the President ciples of popular sovereignty, as far as
and his cabinet have had to deal , without we can understand them , ought, logically,
following them in the order either of time to have adopted the former course, but
or importance, may be classified as the (as the interests of Slavery were not in
Mormon question, the Financial ques- volved) he elected to pursue the latter ;
tion, the Filibuster question, and the Kan- and he has pursued it with an impo
sas question. All these required, for a tence which has cost the nation already
proper arljustment of them, firmness rath- many millions of dollars, and which has
er than ability',-aa clear perception of the involved the “army of Utah " in inex .
principles of right, rather than abstruse tricable embarrassments, allowing them
policy, -and vigor of execution, rather
-

to be shut up in the snows of the moun

than profound diplomatic skill. Yet we tains before they could strike aa blow or
do not perceive that our government has reach the first object of their expedi
displayedl, in regard to the treatment of tion. Not very well appointed in the
any of these questions, either firinness or beginning, this little force was despatch
ability. It has employed policy enough ed to the Plains when it was too late
748 Mr. Buchanan's Administration . [ April,
in the season ; a part of it was need- originally sold at a small advance, were
lessly delayed in assisting to choke down bought back on a very large advance ;
freedom in Kansas ; and when it attained the usurers and the stock -jobbers re
the hills which guard the passages to the ceived sixteen per cent. for what they
valley of the Salt Lake, it found the had bought at a premium of but two
cañons obstructed by snow , and the roads or three per cent.; and an unparalleled
impassable. The supplies required for glory shone around the easy vonitories
its subsistence were scattered in use- of the Treasury. The foresight and
less profusion from Leavenworth to Fort the sagacity of the proceeding were
Laramie, and assistance and action were marvellous ! In less than a quarter by
alike hopeless until the arrival of the the moon, the coffers of the government
spring were empty , —the very clerks in its em
The same fecbleness, which left the ploy went about the streets borrowing
poor soldier to perish in the desert, bas money to pay their board -bills,—and the
brought an overflowing treasury nearly grand -master of the vaults, Mr. Cobb,
to default. Mr. Buchanan, in his Mes-, counting his fingers in despair over the
sage, discussed the existing financial cri- vacant prospect, was compelled , in the
sis with much sounding phrase and very extremity of his distress, to fill his limp
decided emphasis. He rebuked the ac- sacks with paper. Of the nineteen mil-.
tion of the banks, which had presumed lions of gold which in September dis
to issue notes to the amount of more than tended the public purse , little or noth
three times that of their specic, in a tone ing remained in December, while in its
of lofty and indignant virtue. He com- place were paper bills, -founded , not up
mended them to the strictest vigilance on a basis of one-third specie, but upon a
and to the exemplary discipline of the basis of — We promise to pay ! It was a
State legislatures, while descanting at sad application of the high -sounding doc
large upoñ the safety, the economy, the trines of the Message, - a dreadful de
7

beauty, and the glory of a sound hard- scent for a pure hard -money government,
money currency. When he entered up- - and a lamentable conversion of the
.

on his office, he found the Treasury re pompous swagger of October into the
plete with eagles and dimes ; it was so shivering collapse of January !
flush, that, in the joy of his heart, he or- It may be said, that, by this pre -pur
dered the debts of the United States to chase of its own stocks, running at an
be redeemed at a premium of sixteen interest of six per cent. , the government
per cent.; and he and his followers were has saved the amount of interest which
disposed to jubilate over the singular would else have accrued between the
spectacle , that, while all other institu- time of the purchase and the time of ul
tions were failing, the Treasury of the timate redemption. And this is true to
United States was firm and resplendent some extent,-- and it would show an ad
in its large possession of gold. It was mirable economy , if the Treasury had
deemed a rare wisdom and success, in- had no other use for its money. A gov
deed , which could utter a note of tri- ernment, like an individual , having a
umph in the midst of so universal a large balance of superfluous cash on
cry of despair; it was deemed a rare hand, can do no better with it than to
piece of liberality, that the government pay off its debts; but to do this, when
should come to the aid of society in an there was every prospect of a Morinon
hour of such dark distress . The stocks war to raise the expenditure, little pros
of the United States, which had been pect of retrenchment in any branch of
* More recently tlie energy and wisdom of service, and a daily diminishing revenue
Col. Johnston have repaired some of the mis at all points, it was purely a piece of
cliefs produced by the dilatoriness of his su folly, a want of ordinary forecast, to
periors. get rid of the cash in hand . Mr. Bu
1858.] Mr. Buchanan's Administration . 749

chanan and Mr. Cobb were guilty of more rapidly than goods are apt to pass
this folly, and, for the sake of the poor through the custom-houses. Under a
éclat of coming to the relief of the merely noininal recognizance, he sailed
money -market, (which was no great re- away with flying colors, and amid the
lief, after all,) they sacrificed the hard- plaudits of an admiring crowd, among
money pretensions of the government, whom, it is to be presumed, the authori
and sunk its character to the level of that tics took care to be only not too conspicu
of the needy " kiteflier ” in Wall Street ous .
Their true course , in the existing condi- But the authorities on the sea , who
tion and aspect of affairs, was to retain could not so readily get a cuc from
their capital, and to institute a most rigid Washington, with the directness, in con
economy, a most searching reduction, in struing orders, which is the habit of the
every branch of the public service. We military mind, took their instructions at
have, however, yet to learn whether any the word. Commanded to intercept all
such economy and reduction have been marauders and pirates, they kept a look
effected . out for Walker. He eluded the guns of
All this was simply weakness ; but in Captain Chatard, but Commodore Pauld
turning from the conduct of the Finances ing seized him in the very act of invading
by the administration, to consider its a friendly soil. Hoisting him on board
management of Filibusterism , we pass of a war-ship, he returned him in press
from the consideration of acts of mere ing haste to the President. Commodore
debility to the consideration of acts which Paulding, who had read the Message, and
have a color of duplicity in them . On read the instructions of Secretary Cass,
the Filibusters, as on the Finances, the doubtless supposed that black meant
First Annual Message of the President black, and white, white. Perhaps, also,
was outspoken and forcible. It charac- in the unsophisticated pride with which
terized the past and proposed doings he contemplated the promptitude and de
of William Walker and his crew , as the cision of his action, in saving an innocent
common sense and common conscience people from a sanguinary ruffian, and in
of the world had already characterized maintaining the honor of his country un
them, as nothing short of piracy and mur- sullied , dim visions crossed his mind of
der. Recognizing the obligations of fra- a letter of thanks from the President,
ternity and peace as the rule of right in and of the vote of a sword by Congress.
international relations, it pledged the ut- Alas for such hopes ! Commodore Pauld
most vigilance and energy of the Fed- ing was clearly not a politician ; he did
eral powers against every semblance of not know that black meant white and
freebootery. In pursuance of this prom- white meant black ,-por that the present
ise, orders were issued to the various of a filibuster, which he sent to the
civil and naval authorities, (orders not President, was the present of something
very clear, it is true, but clear enough to worse than an elephant. It was the pres
bear but one meaning in honest and ent of a herd of elephants, -of a sea of
simple minds,) to the effect that they troubles. Mr. Buchanan's fine denun
should maintain a sharp watch, and cxc- ciations of freebooters had only been fine
cute a summary arrest of every person words for the public ear ; secretly he
suspected of or discovered in unlawful cherished a penchant for freebooters, or
enterprises. The authorities on land, to rather for the friends of freebooters; and,
whom it was easy to hold secret com- under those circumstances, to be pre
munication with Washington, were found sented, by his own agent, with the very
to have very blind eyes and very slip chief of the freebooters, as a criminal and
pery hands. General Walker and his a scamp, was the most unheard -of sim
confederates were taken at New Orleans, plicity of understanding, and the most
but they passed through the courts far astounding literalness of obedience, in
750 Ur. Buchanan's Administration . [ April,
any subordinate. What to do was the portant question submitted to the admin
question. lle had menaced Chatard istration ,—the question of Kansas,-in
with aa cashiering for allowing Walker to the management of which, we think, it
escape ; and here was Paulding, who did will be found that all the before -noted de
not allow him to escape ,, -so
- he menaced ficiencies of the government have been
Paulding likewise ; and by way of cap combined with a criminal disregard of
ping the climax of absurdities, he set settled principles and almost universal
Walker himself at large, to go about the convictions. In reference to Kansas, as
country clamoring to be sent back, at the in reference to the other topics, the Presi
expense of the government, to the scenes dent began with fair and seductive prom
of his late innocent occupations and vir- ises. He did not, it is true, either in his
tuous designs, whence he had been ruth- Message or anywhere else, that we know
lessly torn by an over-officious sailor. of, narrate the actual history of the long
The history of the farce is both argu- contest which has divided that Territory,
ment and comment. Walker was either but he did hold up for the future the
a citizen of the United States, levying brightest hopes of an honest and equita
war upon a friendly foreign state, and as ble adjustment of all the past difficulties.
such amenable to the penalties of our He selected and commissioned Robert
neutrality laws, or he was a citizen of J. Walker, as Governor, for the express
Nicaragua, as he pretended to be, abusing purpose of “ pacifying Kansas." Pre
our protection to organize warlike enter- tending to overlook the past causes of
prises against his fellow-itizens, and as trouble, he announced that everything
such also amenable to our neutrality laws. would now be set right by new elections,
In either capacity, and however taken , in which the whole people should have
he should have been severely dealt with full opportunity of declaring their will.
by the President. But, unfortunately, Mr. Walker went to Kansas with a full
Mr. Buchanan, not left to his own in- determination to carry out this amiable
stincts of right, is surrounded by assist- promise of the President. Both he and his
ants who have other than great public secretary, Mr. Stanton , laborou strenu
motives for their conduct. Walker's ously to convince the people of the Terri
schemes were not individual schemes, tory of his honest purposes, and, by dint
were not simple projects of piracy and of persuasions, pledges, assurances, and
plunder, got up on his own responsibility oaths, at length succeeded in procuring a
and for his own ends. Connected with pretty general exercise of the franchise.
important collateral issues, they received The result was a signal overthrow of the
the sympathy and support of others more minority which had so long ruled by fraud
potent than himself. He was, in aa word , and violence ; and the sincerity of the
the instrument of the propagandist slave. President is tested by the fact, avouched
holders, the fear of whom is ever before by both Walker and Stanton, that, from
a President's eyes. As the old barbarian the moment of the success of the Free
Arbogastes used to say to the later Ro- State party, he was wroth towards his
man emperors, whom he helped to ele- servants . Stanton was removed and
vate, “ The power which made you is the Walker compelled to resign, though their
power which can break you ,” so these only offence was a laborious prosecution
modern masters of the throne dictate of the President's own policy. Ever
and guide its policy. Dr. Buchanan since then, he has strained every nerve ,
was their man as much as Walker was, and at this moment is straining every
anů, however grand his speeches before nerve, to defeat the well-known legally
the public, he must do their bidding demonstrated wish of the majority. In
when things came to the trial. the face of his own plighted word , and of
But this allusion brings us, by an ob- the emphatic assurances of his agents,
vious transition , to the last and most im- sanctioned by himself, he insists upon 1
 Mr. Buchanan's Administration . 751
1858.]
imposing on them officers whom they de- President would be obliged to suppress
test and an instrument of government it, if called upon , by force of arms. The
which they spurn . These people of Organic Act is the supreme law of the
Kansas,—who were to be “ pacified ," - to Territory, which can be altered or revok
be conciliated, — to be guarantied a justed only by the authority from which it
administration ,-are denounced in the emanated ; and cvery measure commen
most virulent and abusive terms as re- ced or prosecuted with a design to annul
fractory, and are threatened with the co- that law, to subvert the Territorial gov
crcion of a military force, because they ernment, or to put in force in its place
are unwilling to subunit to outrage ! a new government, without the consent
The cxcuse offered by the President of Congress, is aa flagrant usurpation.
for this perfidious course is the Lecomp- Now the Lecompton Convention was
ton Constitution, which he professes to called not merely without the consent of
consider a legal instrument, framed by a Congress, but against its consent ; it was
legal Convention, and approved by a called by and under the arrangements
legal election of the people, and which of the Territorial Legislature ; it was not
is therefore not to be set aside except by the spontaneous act of the people, a large
the same sovereign power by which it majority of whom condemned the move
ment and refused to participate in it ; and
was created. It would be a good excuse ,
if it were not a transparent and mon- thus, in its inception , it was unlawful.
strous quibble from beginning to end. It was neither regularly nor irregularly
The Lecompton Constitution has no one proper ;-the supreme legislature had not
eleinent of legality in it ; from the acknowledged it ; the masses of society
Whereas, to the signatures, it is an im. hard not acknowledged it ; and the entire
posture ; – for neither had the Legisla- project possessed no other character than
ture, that called the Convention in which that of a factious scheme for perpetuating
it was madle, lawful authority to do so,- the power of a few pro- slavery dema
nor was that Convention lawfully consti sognies.
tuted ,—nor was the alleged adoption of But, if we grant the right of the Ter
it by the people more than a trick. ritorial Legislature to originate such a
A Territory is an inchoate and depends movement, the manner in which it was
ent community, which can be erected carried into effect would still brand it
into a State only in two ways : first, for- with the marks of illegality. A census
mally, by an enabling act of Congress, and registry of voters had been provided
giving permission to the inhabitants to set for in the law authorizing the Conven
up for themselves; and second, informally, tion, as the basis of an apportionment of
by a spontaneous and general movement the delegates, and that provision was not
of the people, which Congress must after- complied with . In nincteen out of the
wards legitimate. In either case, the thirty -cight counties no registry was
consent of Congress, first or last, is ne- made, and in the others it was imper
cessary to the validity of the proceeding. fectly made. “ In some of the counties,”
But a Territorial Legislature, which is the according to the evidence of Mr. Stanton,
mere creature of Congress, having no then acting Governor, “ the officers were
powers but what are strictly conveyed to probably deterred and discouraged by the
it in the Organic Act instituting the people from their duty of taking the cen
Territorial government, cannot originate sus,” (although he adds that he does not
a movement to supersede itself, and also know that such was the fact,) " while in
to abrogate the authority of Congress others the oflicers utterly refused to do
The attempt to do so, as declared by their duty.” “ I know ," he says, “ that
General Jackson's cabinet, in the case of the people of some of those counties ar
Arkansas, would be, not simply null anal cently desired to be represented in the
void , but unlawful, rebellious; and the Convention , for they afterwards, under
752 Mr. Buchanan's Administration . [April,
the statements of Governor Walker and of the whole people. It would have been
myself, that they would probably be ad- ashamed of it, if it had contained men
mitted, elected delegates and sent them sincerely anxious to reflect the will of the
up to the Convention ; but they were not great body of the citizens. It would have
admitted to seats.” In consequence of been as much ashamed of it, as any hon
this failure or refusal to do their duty, est man would be to pass himself off as
only the geographical half or the nu- the agent of a person whom he had never
merical fourth of the Territory was repre- known, or who openly derided and de
sented in the Convention . Nor is it any spised him . But this precious body
excuse for the defaulting officers, even each man of whom represented thirty men
if it bad been true, that some of the pco besides himself, in a voting population of
ple opposed the execution of their duty. 12,000—was not sensible to such con
They professed to be acting under law ; siderations. By a miserable chicane, it had
their functions were plainly prescribed to got into a position to do mischief, and it
them ; and they were bound to make the proceeded to do it, with as much alacrity
census and registry, whatever the dispo- and headlong zeal as rogues are apt to
sition of the people. In a land of laws, exhibit when the prize is great and the
it is the law, and not any mere prevailing opportunity short. An election for the
sentiment, which prescribes and limits Legislature , held subsequently to that for
official duty. There is, however, no evi- the Convention , showing a public opinion
dence that the discharge of their task wa decidedly adverse to it, the sole study of
rendered impossible by the popular oppo- its members thenceforth seemed to be,
sition , while there is evidence that they how they could most adroitly and effect
were very willing to neglect it, and very ively nullify the ascendency of the ma
willing to allow any obstacle, no matter jority. For this end alone they con
how trivial, to obstruct their performance sulted, and caballed , and calculated , and
of it. They were , in truth, as everybody junketed ; and the Lecompton Consti
knows, the simple tools of the faction tution, with the Schedule annexed , was
which started this Convention movement, the worthy fruit of their labors.
and not at all desirous to secure a fair It is monstrous in Mr. Buchanan to
and adequate representation of the in- assume that a boily so contrived and
habitants. so acting expressed in any sense the
That many of the people should be sovereign will of the people. But, not
careless of the registration, and even to dwell upon this point, let us suppose
unfriendly to it, is natural, because they that the Convention had been summoned
disapproved the plan, and were hostile by a competent authority, that it had
to the ends of the Convention. They been fairly chosen by its small constitu
doubted the authority by which it had ency, and that its proceedings had been
been summoned ; they doubted both the managed with ordinary decorum ,—would
validity and the probable fairness of an the Constitution it framed be valid , in
election under such authority; and, more- the face of a clear popular condemnation ?
over, they were indifferent as to its pro- We hold that it would not, because, in
ceedings, because they had been assured our estimation, and in the estimation of
that they would be called upon to pro- every intelligent American, the very es
nounce pro or con upon its results. The sence of republicanism is “the consent
Convention, as actually constituted when of the governed.” It is the highest func
assembled, consisted of sixty delegates, tion of political sovereignty to devise and
representing about 1,800 voters, in an ordain the organic law of society, the
electoral body of 12,000 in all, -or one vital form of its being; and the charac
delegate to thirty voters ! A convention teristic difference between the despotic
so composed ought to have been ashamed or oligarchical and the republican gov
of the very pretence of acting in the name ernment is, that in the one case the func
1858.] Mr. Buchanan's Administration . 753

tion is exercised by a monarch or a class, stitution “ would be and ought to be re

and in the other by the body of the citi- jected by Congress.” Walker was volu
zens . This distinctive feature of our ble in proclamations to that end. The
politics, as opposed to all others, regards framers of the Constitution, aware of its
the will of the people, directly or indi- invalidity without the sanction of the peo
rectly expressed, as alone giving validity ple, provided66 for its submission to “ ap
to law ; our National Constitution, and proval”" or " disapproval,” to “ ratifica
every one of our thirty -one State Con- tion ” or “ rejection "; and yet, by the
stitutions, proceeds upon that principle ; paltriest juggle in recorded history, de
every act of legislation in the Congress vised , in the same breath, a method of
and the State Assemblies supposes it ; taking the vote, which completely nul
and every decision of every Court has lified its own terins. No man was al
that for its basis. Constitutions have lowed to 66" disapprove 99
no man was

been adopted , undoubtedly, without a allowed to “ reject ” it,-except in regard

distinct submission of them to the ratifi- to a single section ,-and before he could
cation of the people ; but in such cases vote for or against that, he was obliged
there has been no serious agitation of the to vote in favor of all the rest. If there
public mind, no important conflict or di- had been a hundred thousand voters in
vision of opinion, rendering such ratifi- the Territory opposed to the Constitution,
cation necessary,-and,in the absence of and but one voter in its favor, the hun
dispute, the general assent of the commu- dred thousand voters could not have
nity to the action of its delegates might voted upon it at all, but the one voter
fairly be presuined . But in no case , could , -- and the vote of that one would
in which great and debatable questions have been construed into a popular ap
were involved, bas any Convention dared proval, while the will of all the others
to close its labors without providing for would have been practically void. By
their reference to the popular sanction ; this pitiful stratagem , it was supposed,
much less has there been any instance the double exigency of Mr. Buchanan's
in which a Convention has dared to make often repeated sentiments, and of the
its own work final, in the face of a known pro-slavery cause, which dreaded a pop
or apprehended repugnance of the con- ular vote, was completely satisfied ; and
stituency. The politicians who should the President of the United States, reck
have proposed such a thing would have less of his position and his fame, lent
been overwhelmed with unmeasured in- himself to the shameless and despicable
dignation and scorn . No sentiment more palter. He not only lent himself to it,
livingly pervades our national mind, no but he has openly argued its propriety,
sentiment is juster in itself, than that and is now making the adherence of his
they who are to live under the laws friends to such baseness the test of their
ought to decide on the character of the party fidelity. In the name of Democ
laws, —that they whose persons, prop- racy,—of that sacred and sublime princi
erty, welfare, happiness, life, are to be ple into which we, as aa nation , have been
controlled by a Constitution of Govern- baptized ,—which declares the inalienable
ment, ought to participate in the forma- rights of man , —and which , as it makes
tion of that government. the tour of the earth , hand and hand
Conscious of this truth, and of its pro- with Christianity, is lifting the many from
found hold on the popular heart, Mr. Bu- the dust, where for ages they have been
chanan instructed Governor Walker to trampled , into political life and dignity,
see the Kansas Constitution submitted -he converts a paltry swindle into its
to the people, to protect them against standard and creed , and prostitutes its
fraud and violence in voting upon it,- glorious mission, as a redeeming influ
and to proclaim , in the event of any in- ence among men, into a ministry of sla
terference with their rights, that the Con- very and outrage.
VOL . I. 48
754 Mr. Buchanan's Administration . [ April,
Mr. Buchanan knows — we believe government are at stake, he should show
better than any man in the country — himself unconscious of a higher judica
that the Lecompton Constitution is not ture or a nobler style of pleading than
the act of the people of Kansas. By the those which would serve for a case of
clection of the 4th of January — an elec- petty larceny,—and that he should be
tion which was perfectly valid , because it abetted by more than half the national
was held under the authority of a Territo representatives, while he brings down a
rial Legislature superior to the Conven- case of public conscience to the moral
tion — it was solemnly and unequivocally level of those who are content with the
condemned . This of'itself was cnough maculate safety which they owe to a flaw
to demonstrate that fact. in an indictment, or with the dingy in
But all the
Democratic Governors of the Territory nocence which is certified to by the disa
—with the single exception of Shannon, greement of a jury:
and the recently appointed acting Gov- These things are the logical conse
ervor, Denver, who is prudently silent quences of that profound national de
– testify urgently to the same truth. moralization which followed the cnact
Reeder, Geary; and Walker, together ment of the Fugitive Slave Bill and
with the late acting Governor, Stanton , alone made its execution possible, -a
asseverate , in the most earnest and em- demoralization wilfully brought about,
phatic manner, that the majority in Kan- for selfish ends, in that sad time which
sas is for making it a Free State ,—that saw our greatest advocates and our
the minority which has ruled is a factious acutest politicians spending all their en
minority , and that they have obtained crgy of mind and subtlety of argument
and perpetuated their ascendency by a to persuade the people that there was no
most unblushing series of crimes and higher law than that rule of custom and
frauds. Yet, in the teeth of this evi- chicane woven of the split hairs of im
dence, - of repeated elections, - of his memorial sophistry, and whose strongest
own witnesses turning against him , - fibre is at the mercy of an obstinate tra
the President adheres to the infamous verse juror,-no law higher than the de
plans of the pro -slavery leaders ; and, cree of party, ratified by a popular major
if not arrested by the rebukes of the ity achieved by the waiters on Presiden
North, he will insist on imposing their tial providence, through immigrant voters
odious measures upon their long-suffering whom the gurgling oratory of the whis
victims. key-barrel is potent to convince, and
whose sole notion of jurisprudence is
Looking at the adıninistration of Vr. based upon experience of the comparative
Buchanan simply from the point of view toughness of Celtic skulls and blackthorn
of an enlightened statesmanship, we find shillalahs. And such arguments were
nothing in it that is not contemptible ; listened to, such advocates commended
but when we regard it as the accredited for patriotism , in aa land from whose thir
exponent of the moral sense of a ma- ty thousand pulpits God and Christ are
jority of our people, it is saved from con- preached weekly to hearers who profess
tempt, indeed , but saved only because belief in the Divine government of the
contempt is merged in a deeper feeling world and the irreversible . verlicts of
of humiliation and apprehension. Un- conscience !
paralleled as the outrages in Kansas have The capacity of the English race for
been, we regard them as insignificant in self-government is measured by their re
comparison with the deadlier fact that the gard as well for tlıc forms as the essence
Chief Magistrate of the Republic should of law. A race conservative beyond all
strive to defend them by the small wiles of others of what is established, averse be
a village attorney , —that, when the hon- yond all others to the heroic remedy of
or of aa nation and the principle of self- forcible revolution, they have yet three
 Mr. Buchanan's Administration .
1858.]
times in the space of a century and a
half assumed the chances of rebellion
and the certain perils of civil war, rather
than submit to have Right infringed by
Prerogative, and the scales of Justice
made a cheat by false weights that kept
the shape but lacked the substance of le-
gitimate precedent. We are forced to
think that there must be a bend sinis-
ter in the escutcheon of the descend-
ants of such men , when we find them
setting the form above the substance, and through the weeds on the palaces of the
accepting as law that which is deadly to
the spirit while it is true to the letter of
legality. It is a spectacle portentous of
moral lapse and social disorganization , to
sec a statesman , who has had fifty years
experience of American politics, quib-
bling in defence of Executive violence
against a free community, as if the con-
science of the nation were no more au-
gust a tribunal than a police justice sitting
upon a paltry case of assault. Yet more
portentous is it to see a great people con-
senting that fraud should be made na-
tional by the voice of a Congress in which
the casting vote may be bought by a tide-
waitership, and then invested with the individual property also ? It burglary
solemnity of law by a Court whose mem-
bers are selected , not for uprightness of
755
fell from aa hand palsied by the moral de
generacy of the people ; and the cmascu
late usurper or the foreign barbarian
snatched and squandered the heritage of
civilization which cscheated for want of
legitimate heirs of the olel royal race,
whose divine right was the imperial brain,
and who found their strength in a national
virtue which individualized itself in every
citizen. The wind that moans among
the columns of the Parthenon , or rustles
Cæsars, whispers no truer prophecies
than that venal breath which, at a signal
from the patron in the White llouse,
bends all one way the obsequions leaves
of a partisan press, ominous of popular
decadence.
Do our lealing politicians, and the
prominent bankers and merchants who
sustain them , know what a dangerous
lesson they are setting to a people whose
affairs arc controlled by universal suf
fraye, when they affirm that to be right
which can by any false pretence be voted
so ? Docs not he who undermines na
tional principle say the foundations of
may be committed on a commonwealth
under form of law, is there any logic that
2

character or breadth of mind, but by the will protect a bank -vault or a strong-box ?
inverse test of their capacity for cringing When Mr. Buchanan, with a Jew broker
in subservience to party, and for narrow- at one elbow and a Frenchman at the oth
ing a judgment already slender as the cr, ( strange representatives of American
line of personal interest, till it becomes diplomacy !) signed his name to the Ost
80 threaullike as to bend at the touch, end circular, was he not setting a writing
nay, at the breath , of sectional rapacity. lesson for American youth to copy , and
Ilave we , then, forgotten that the true one which the pirate hand of Walker did
prosperity of a nation is moral, and not copy in ungainly letters of fire and blood
material ? that its strength depends, not in Nicaragua ?
on the width of its boundaries, nor the The vice of universal suffrage is the
bulk of its census, but on its magnanim- infinitesimal subilivision of personal re
ity, its honor, its fidelity to conscience ? sponsibility. The quilt of every national
There is a Fate which spins and cuts sin comes back to the roter in a fraction
the threads of national as of individual the denominator of which is several mil
life, and the case of God against the lions. It is idle to talk of the responsi
people of these United States is not to bility of officials to their constituencies or
be debated before any such petty tribu- to the people . The President of the
nal as Mr. Buchanan and his advisers United States, during his four years of
seem to suppose. The sceptre which office, is less amonable to public opinion
dropperl successively from the grasp of than the Queen of England through her
Egypt, Assyria, Carthage, Greece, Rome, ministers ; senators, with cmbassies in
756 Mr. Buchanan's Administration . [ April,
prospect, laugh at instructions ; repre- ergy and the dependence on our indi
sentatives think they have made a good vidual strength, that alone can keep us
bargain when they exchange the barren free and worthy to be freemen .
approval of constituencies for the smile While we hold the inoral aspect of the
of one whom a lucky death , perhaps, has great question now before the country to
converted into the Presidential Midas of be cardinal, there are also some practical
the moment; aml in a nation of adven- ones which the Republican party ought
turers, success is too easily allowed to never to lose sight of. To move a people
sanctify a speculation by which a man among whom the Anglo-Saxon element
sells his pititul self for a better price than is predominant, we will not say, with
even a Jew could get for the Saviour of Lord Bacon, that we must convince their
the world . It cannot be too often re- pockets, but we do believe that moral
peateil, that the only responsibility which must always go band in hand with com
is of saving efficacy in a Democracy is mon sense . They will take up arms for
that of every individual man in it to his a principle, but they must have confi
conscience and his God . As long as any dence in each other and in their leaders.
one of us holds the ballot in his hand , heConscience is a good tutor to tell a man
is truly, what we sometimes vaguely boast, on which side to act, but she leaves the
a sovereign ,-a constituent part of Des question of Ilow to act to every man's
tiny; the infinite Future is his vassal; prudence and judgment. An over-nice
History holds her iron stylus as his conscience has before now turned the
scribe; Lachesis awaits his word to close stomach of a great cause on the eve of
or to suspend her fatal shears ;—but the action . Cromwell know when to split
moment his vote is cast, he becomes the hairs and when skulls. The North has
serf of circunstance, at the mercy of the too generally allowed its strength to be
white -livered representative's cowarlice, divided by personal preferences and by
or the venal one's itching palm. Our questions, till it has almost seemed as if
only safety, then , is in the aggregate a moral principle had less constringent
fidelity to personal rectitule , which may force to hold its followers together than
lessen the chances of representative the gravitation of private interest, the
dishonesty, or, at the worst, constitute Newtonian law of that system whereof the
a public opinion that shall make the dollar is the central sun , which has hith
whole country a penitentiary for such erto made the owners of slaves unitary,
treason, and turn the price of public and given them the power which springs
honor to fairy-money, whose withered from concentration and the success which
leaves but mock the possessor with the is sure to follow concert of action. We
futile memory of self- legradation. Let have spent our strength in quartelling
every man remember, that, thongh hic about the character of men, when we
may be a nothing in himself, yet every should have been watchful only of the
cipher gains the power of multiplying by character of measures. A scruple of con
ten when it is placed on the right siile of science has no right to outweigh a pound
whatever unit for the tiine represents the of duty, though it ought to make a ton
cause of truth and justice. What we of private interest kick the beam . The
need is a thorough awakening of the in- great aim of the Republican party should
a

dividual conscience ; and if we once be- be to gain one victory for the Free States.
come aware how the still and stealthy One victory will make us a unit, and is
ashes of political apathy and moral insen- equal to a reinforcement of fifty thousand
sibility are slipping under our feet and men . The genius of success in politics
hurrying us with them toward the crater's or war is to know Opportunity at first
irrevocable core, it may be that the effort sight. There is no mistress so easily
of self-preservation called forth by the tired as Fortune. We must waste no
danger will make us love the daring en- more time in investigating the motives of
1855.] Mr. Buchanan's Administration . 757

our recruits. Have we not faith enough Free States, and again and again we have
in our cause to believe that it will lift seen them collapse like a water-spout, in
all to its own level of patriotism and de- to a crumbling heap of disintegrated bub
votion ? Let us, then, welcome all allies, bles, before the compact bullet of political
from whatever quarter, and not inquire audacity. While our legislatures have
into their past history as minutely as if been resolving and re -resolving the prin
we were the assignces of the Recording ciples of the Declaration of Independence,
Angel and could search his ' books at our adversaries have pushed their trench
pleasure. When Soult was operating es, parallel after parallel, against the very
in the South of France, the defection of citadel of our political equality. A siege,
two German regiments crippled all his if uninterrupted, is a mere matter of
combinations and gave the advantage time, andmust end in capitulation. Our
to Wellington Ought Wellington to only safety is in assuming the offensive.
have refused their aid ? For our own Are we to be terrified any longer by
part, if Mr. Douglas be the best tacti- such Chinese devices of warfare as the
cian, the best master of political combi- cry of Disunion ,-a threat as hollow as
nation, we are willing to forget all past the mask from which it issues, as barm
differences and serve under him cheer- less as the periodical suicides of Mantali
fully, rather than lose the battle under a ni, as insincere as the spoiled child's re
general who has agreed with us all his fusal of bis supper ? We have no desire
life. When we remember, that, of the for a dissolution of our confederacy,
two great cathedrals of Europe, one is though it is not for us to fear it. We will
dedicated to Saint Peter who denied his not allow it ; we will not permit the
Lord under temptation, and the other Southern half of our dominion to become
to Saint Paul who spent his carly man- a llayti. But there is no danger ; the
hood in persecuting true believers, and law that binds our system of confederate
that both these patrons of the Church, stars together is of stronger fibre than to
differing as they did in many points of be snapped by thic trembling finger of
doctrine, were united in martyrdom for Toonıbs or cut by the bloodless sword of
their belief, we cannot but think that Davis ; the march of the Universe is not
there is room even for repentant rene- to be stayed because some gentleman in
gades in the camp of the faithful. Buncoinbe declares that his sweet-potato
While we insist that Morals should patch shall not go along with it. But we
govern the motives of political action, bave no apprehension. The sweet at
and that no party can be .permanently traction which knits the sons of Virginia
strong which has not the reserve of a to the Treasury has lost none of its con
great principle behind it, we affirm with trolling force. We must make up our
no less strength of conviction that the de- minds to keep these deep -destended gen
tails of our National Housekeeping should tlemen in the Union , and must convince
be managed by practical sense and world- them that we bave a work to accomplish
ly forethought. The policy of states in it and by means of it. If our Southern
moves along the beaten highways of ex- brethren have the curse of Canaan in
perience, and , where terrestrial guide their pious keeping, if the responsibility
posts are plenty, we need not ask our way lic upon them to avenge the insults of
of the stars. The advantage of our op- Noah, on us devolves a niore comprehen
ponents has been that they have always sive obligation and the vindication of an
had some sharp practical measure, some elder dooin ;-it is for us to assert and to
definite and iminediate object, to oppose secure the claim of every son of Adam to
to our voluminous propositions of abstract the common inheritance ratified by the
right. Again and again the whirlwind sentence, " In the sweat of thy brow shalt
of oratorical enthusiasm has roused and thou earn thy bread . ” We are to estab
heaped up the threatening masses of the lish no aristocracy of race or complexion,
758 Mr. Buchanan's Administration . [ April,
no caste which Nature and Revelation this continent for the experiment of De
alike refuse to recognize, but the indetea- mocracy ,—when we think of those fore
sible right of man to the soil wbich he fathers for whom our mother England
subdues, and the muscles with which he shed down from her august breasts the
subdues it. If this be a sectional creed , nutriment of ordered liberty, not unmixed
it is aa sectionality which at least includes with her best blood in the day of her
three hundred and fifty -nine degrees of trial, -- when we remember tlie first two
the circle of man's political aspiration acts of our drama, that cost one king his
and physical activity, and we may well head and his son a throne, and that third
be casy under the imputation. which cost another the fairest appanage
But so rapiil has been the downward of his crown and gave a new llero to
course of our national politics under the mankind,—we cannot believe it possible
guidance of our oligarchical Democracy, that this great scene, stretching from
that the question on which we take issue, ocean to occan , was prepared by the
whatever it may once have been , is no Almighty only for such men as Mr. Bu
longer a sectional one, and concerns not chanan and his peers to show their feats
the slavery of the negro, but that of the of juggling on, even though the thimble
Northern white man . Whatever doubt rig be on so colossal a scale that the stake
there may be about the physical degene- is a territory larger than Britain. We
ration of the race , it is more than certain cannot believe that this unhistoried con
that the people of the Northern States tinent, — this virgin leaf in the great
have no longer the moral stature of their diary of man's conquest over the planet,
illustrious ancestry ; that their puny souls on which our fathers wrote two words of
could find room enough in but the gaunt- epic grandeur, - Plymouth and Bunker
let finger of that armor of faith and con- Hill, -is to bear for its colophon the rec
stancy and self-devotion which fitted close- ord of men who inherited greatness and
ly to the limbs of those who laid so broad Jett it pusillanimity,—a republic, and made
the foundations of our polity as to make it anarchy;—freedom , and were content as
our recreancy possible and safe for us . serfs, - of men who, born to the noblest
It welluigh seems as if our type should estate of grand ideas and fair expectancies
suffer aa slave-change, -as if the fair hair the world had ever seen, bequeathed the
and skin of those ancestral non Angli sell sordid price of them in gold. The change
angeli should crisp into wool and darken is sa :) 'twixt Now and Then : the Great
to the swarthy livery of servility. No Republic is without influence in the coun
Northern man can hold any oflice under cils of the world ; to be an American, in
the national government, however petty, Europe, is to be the accomplice of filibus
without an open recantation of those prin- ters and slave-traders; instead of men and
ciples which he drew in with his mother's thought, as was hoped of us, we send to
milk ,-those principles which, in the bet- the Old World cotton, corn , and tobacco,
ter days of the republic, even a slave- and are but as one of her outlying farms.
holder could write down in the great Are we bascly content with our pecun
charter of our liberties, —those principles iary good -fortunc ? Do we look on the
which now only the bells and cannon tall column of figures on the credit side
are allowed to utter on the Fourth of of our national ledger as a sufficing mon
July or the Seventeenth of June ,-bells uinent of our glory as a people ? Are
that may next call out the citizen -soldiery we of the North better off as provinces
to aid in the renelition of a slave,-cannon of the Slave -holding States than as colo
whose brazen lips may next rebuke the nies of Great Britain ? Are we content
freedom whose praises they but yesterday with our share in the administration of
so emptily thundered . national affairs, because we are to have
When we look back upon the provi- the ministry to Austria, and because the
dential series of events which prepared newspapers promise that James Gordon
1858.] Mr. Buchanan's Administration . 759

Bennett shall be sent out of the country States protected by Federal bayonets
to fill it ? while they committed robbery, arson , and
We of the Free States are confessedly Sepoy atrocities against women, and the
without our fair share of influence in the Democratic party forced to swallow this
administration of national affairs. Its nauseous mixture of force, fraud, and
foreign and domestic policy are both di- Executive usurpation , under the name
rected by principles often hostile to our of Popular Sovereignty. We have seen
interests, sometimes abhorrent to our Freedom pronounced sectional and Sla
sense of right and honor. Under loud very national by the highest tribunal of
professions of Democracy, the powers of the republic. We have seen the legis
the central government and of the Exec- latures of Southern States passing acts
utive have increased till they have scarce- for the renewal and encouragement of
ly a match among the despotisms of Eu- the slave - trade. We have seen the at
rope, and more than justify the prophetic tempted assassination of a senator in his
fears of practical statesınen like Samuel scat justified and applauded by public
Adams and foresighted politicians like meetings and the resolutions of State As
Jefferson. Unquestionably superior in semblies. We have seen a pirate, for
numbers, and claiming an equal pre- the banging of whom the conscious Earth
cminence in wealth, intelligence, and would have produced a tree, had none
civilization, we have steadily lost in po- before existed, threaten the successor of
litical power and in the consideration Washington with the exposure of his
which springs from it. Is the prepon- complicity, if he did not publicly violate
Jerance of the South due to any natural the faith he had publicly pledged . - But
superiority of an Aristocracy over a De- enough, and more than enough.
mocracy ? to any mental inferiority, to It lies in the hands of the people of the
lack of courage, of political ability, of Free States to rescue themselves and
continuity of purpose, on our own part ? the country by peaceable reform , ere it
We should be slow to find the cause in be too late, and there be no remedy left
reasons like these ; but we do find it in but that dangerous one of revolution,
that moral disintegration, the necessary toward which Mr. Buchanan and his ad
result of that falsehood to our own sense visers seem bont on driving them . But
of right forced upon us by the slare the reform must be wide and decp, and
system , and which, beginning with our its political objects must be attained by
public men , has gradually spread to the household means. Our sense of private
Press, the Pulpit, nay, worse than all, the honor and integrity must be quickened ;
Ilome , till it is hard to find private our consciousness of responsibility to God
conscience that is not tainted with the and man for the success of this experi
contagious mange. ment in practical Democracy, in order to
For what have we not seen within the which the destiny of a hemisphere has
last few years ? We have scen the nom- been entrusted to us, must be roused and
ination to oflice made dependent, not on exalted ; we must learn to feel that the
the candidate's being large enough to fill, safety of universal suffrage lies in the
but small enough to take it. Holding the sensitiveness of the individual voter to
purity of elections as a first article of our every abuse of delegated authority, every
crcell, we have seen one-third of the pop- treachery to representative duty, as a
ulation of a Territory control the other stain upon his own personal integrity ;
two-thirds by false or illegal votes ; hered- we must become convinced that a gov
itary foes of a standing army, we have ernment without conscience is the neces
seen four thousand troops stationed in sary result of a people careless of their
Kansas to make forged ballots good by duties, and therefore unworthy of their
real bullets ; lovers of fair play, we have rights. Prosperity has dcadened and be
seen a cowardly rabble from the Slave wildered us. It is time we remembered
760 Literary Notices. [ April,
that Ilistory does not concern herself that America will reassume that moral
about material wealth ,—that the life -blood influence ainong the nations which she
of a nation is not that yellow tide which has allowed to fall into abeyance ; and
fluctuates in the arteries of Trade, —that that our eagle, whose morning -flight the
its true revenues are religion, justice, so world watched with hope and expecta
briety, nagnanimity, and the fair ameni- tion, shall no longer troop with unclean
ties of Art,—that it is only by the soul buzzards, but rouse himself and seek his
that any people has achieved greatness eyrie to brood new eaglets that in time
and made lasting conquests over the fu- shall share with him the lordship of these
ture. We believe there is virtue enough Western heavens, and shall learn of him
lett in the North and West to infuse to shake the thunder from their invinci
health into our body politic ; we believe ble wings.

LITERARY NOTICES.

Library of Old Authors. London : John
Russell Smith, 1856–7.
Many of our older readers can remem-
ber the anticipation with which they look-
cd for cach successive volume of the late
Dr. Young's excellent series of old Eng-
lish prose-writers , and the delight with
which they carried it home, fresh from the antique aroma (for wine only acquires its
press and the bindery in its appropriate
livery of evergreen . To most of us it was
our first introduction to the highest society
of letters, and we still feel grateful to the
departed scholar who gave us to share the
conversation of such men as Latimer,
More, Sidney, Taylor, Browne, Fuller,
and Walton . What a sense of security in
an old book which Time has criticized for
us ! What a precious feeling of scclusion
in having a double wall of centuries be-
tween us and the heats and clamors of
contemporary literature ! How limpid
scems the thought, how purc the old wine
of scholarship that has been settling for
so many generations in those silent crypts
and Falernian amphorie of the Past ! No
other writers speak to us with the author-
ity of those whose ordinary speech was
that of our translation of the Scriptures ;
to no mollern is that frank unconscious-
ness possible which was natural to a period
when yet reviews were not ; and no later
style breathes that country charm charac-
teristic of days cre the metropolis drew all
Literary activity to itself, and the trampling
feet of the multitude hai banished the
lark and the daisy from the fresh priva
cies of language. Truly, as compared
with the present, these old voices seem to
come from the morning fields and not the
paved thoroughfares of thought.
Even the “ Retrospective Review ” con
tinues to be good reading, in virtue of the
bouquet by age ) which pervades its pages.
Its sixteen volumes are so many tickets
of admission to the vast and devious vaults
of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries,
through which we wander, tasting a thim
bleful of rich Canary , honeyed Cyprus, or
subacidulous Ilock, from what dusty butt
or keg our fancy chooses. The years dur
ing which this Review was published were
altogether the most fruitful in genuinc ap
preciation of old English literature . Books
were prized for their imaginative, and not
their antiquarian value, by young writers
who sat at the feet of Lamb and Coleridge.
Rarities of style, of thought, of fancy were
sought, rather than the barren scarcitics of
typography . But another race of men
scenis to have sprung up, in whom the fu
tile enthusiasm of the collector predomi.
nates , who substitute archæologic perversi
ty for æsthetic scholarship , and the worth
less profusion of the curiosity-shop for the
sifted exclusiveness of the cabinet of Art.
They forget , in their fanaticism for anti
quity, that the dust of never so many cen
turies is inipotent to transform a curiosity
1858.] Literary Notices.
into a geni, that only good books absorb the Present State of Dramatique Poetry, "
tone- mellowness from age, and that a bap-
tismal register which proves a patriarchal
longevity ( if existence be life ) cannot make
mediocrity anything but a bore, or garru-
lous commonplace entertaining. There
are volumes which have the old age of
Plato, rich with gathering experience,
mcditation, and wisdon , which seem to
have sucked color and ripeness from the
genial autumns of all the select intelli.
gences that have steeped them in the sun-
shine of their love and appreciation ;-
these quaint freaks of russet tell of Mon-
taigne ; thesc stripes of crimson fire, of
Shakspeare ; this sober golu, ot'Sir Thomas
Browne ; this purpling bloon , of Lamb;-
in such fruits we taste the legendary gar-
dens of Alcinoüs and the orchards of At-
las ; and there are volumes again which
can claim only the inglorious senility of
Old Parr or older Jenkins, which have
outlived their half-dozen of kings to be the
prize of showmen and treasuries of the
born -to-be-forgotten trities of a hundred
years ago.
We confess a bibliothecarian avarice
that gives all books aa value in our eyes ;
there is for us a recondite wisdom in the
phrase, “ A book is aa book" ; from the time
when we made the first catalogue of our
library, in which “ Bible, large, 1 vol., "
and “ Bible, small, 1 vol.," asserted their
alphabetic individuality and were the sole
Bs in our little hive, we have had a weak-
ness even for those checker-board volumes
that only fill up ; we cannot breathe the
thin air of that Pepysian self-denial, that as important as the single shy blossom of
Himalayan selectness , which, content with a summer . The old -naidenly genius of
one book -casc, would have no tomes in it
but porphyrogeniti, books of the bluest
blood , making room for choicer new-
comers by a continuous ostracism to the
garret of present incumbents. There is
to us a sacredness in a volume, howerer
dull ; we live over again the author's
Jonely labors and tremulous hopes ; we
sce him , on his first appearance after par-
turition , as well as could be cxpected," a
nervous sympathy yet surviving between
the late -serered umbilical cord and the
wondrous offspring, doubtfully entering
the Mermaid , or the Devil Tavern , or the
Coffee house of Will or Button, blushing
under the eye of Ben or Dryden or Addi-
son , as if they must needs know him for
the author of the “Modest Enquiry into
761
or of the “Unities briefly considered by
»
Philomusus, " of which they have never
heard and never will hear so much as the
namcs ; wc see the country -gentlemen ( sole
cause of its surviving to our day ) who buy
it as a book no gentleman's library can
be complete without; we see the spend
tlırift heir, whose horses and hounds and
Pharaonic troops of friends, drowned in
a Red Sea of claret, bring it to the ham
mer, the tall octavo in tree-calf following
the ancestral oaks of the park. Such a
volume is sacr to us . But it must be
the original foundling of the book -stall, the
engraved blazon of some extinct baronet.
cy within its cover , its leaves enshrining
memorial-flowers of some passion which
the church-yard smothered while the
Stuarts were yet unkinged , suggestive of
the trail of laced ruffles, burnt here and
there with aslıcs from the pipe of some
dozing poct, its binding worn and weather
stained, that has felt the inquisitive finger,
perhaps, of Malone, or thrilled to the touch
of Lamb, doubtful between desire and the
odd sixpence. When it comes to a ques.
tion of reprinting, we are more choice.
The new duodecimo is bald and bare, in
deed , compared with its battered prototype
that could draw us with a single hair of
association .
It is not easy to divine the rule which has
governed Mr. Smith in making the selec
tions for his scries. A choice of old au.
thors should be a florilegium , and not a bot
anist's hortus siccus, to which grasses are
antiquarianism seems to have presided over
the editing of the “ Library .” We should
G
be inclined to surmise that the works to
be reprinted liad been commonly suggest
ed by gentlemen with whom they were
especial favorites, or who were ambitious
that their own nanies should be signalized
on the title-pages with the suffix of Edit.
OR . The volumes already published are :
Increase Mather's “ Remarkable Providen.
(6
ces ” ; the poems of Drummond of Ilaw.
thornden ; the “ Visions ” of Piers Plough
man ; the works in prose and versc of Sir
Thomas Overbury ; the “ Hymns and
Songs ” and the “ Hallelujah " of George
Wither ; the poems of Southwell ; Sel
den's “ Table -talk ” ; the “ Enchiridion " of
Quarles; the dramatic works of Marston
762 Literary Notices.
and Webster; and Chapman's translation
of Homer. The volume of Mather is curi-
ous and entertaining, and fit to stand on the
same shelf with the Magnalia ” of his
book-suffocated son . Cunningham's com-
paratively recent edition, we should think ,
might satisfy for a long time to come the
demand for Drummond, whose chief value
to posterity is as the Boswell of Ben Jon-
son . Sir Thomas ( ) verbury's “ Charac-
tors ” are interesting illustrations of con-
temporary manners, anil a mine of foot-
notes to the works of better men - but,
with the exception of “ The Fair and llap-
py Milkmaill,” they are dull enough to
have pleased James the First; his “ Wife "
is a conto of far -tetched conceits ,-here a
tomtit, and there a hen mistaken for a
pheasant, like the contents of a cockney's
game-bag ; and liis chief interest for us lies
in his having been mixed up with an inex-
plicable tragedy and poisoned in the Tow-
er, not without suspicion of royal complici-
ty. The “ liers Ploughiman ” is a reprint,
with very little improvement that we can
discover, of Mr. Wright's former edition .
It would have been very well to have re-
published the “ Fair Virtue , ” and “ Shop-
herd's Hunting " of George Wither, which
contain all the true poctry he ever
wrote ; but we can imagine nothing more
dreary than the seven hundred pages of
his “ Hymns and Songs,” whose only use,
that we can conceive of, would be as penal
reading for incorrigible poetasters. If a
steady course of these did not bring them
out of their nonsenses, nothing short of “ Emblems, ” and is by no means an unat
hanging would . Take this as a sample, tainable book in other editions, —nor a mat
hit on by opening at random :
“ Rottenness my bones possest ;
Tremblin , fear possessid me ;
I that troublous d :ly might rest :
For, when his approaches be
Onward to the people made,
His strong troops will them invade. "
Southwell is , if possible, worse . lle para-
plirases David and puts into his mouth
such punning conceits as “ Fears are my
feres , ” ani in his “ Saint Peter's Com-
plaint” makes that rashest and shortest-
spoken of the Apostles drawl through
thirty pages of maudlin repentance, in
which the distinctions between the north
and northeast sides of a sentimentality are
worthy of Duns Scotus. It does not follow,
that, because a man is hanged for his
[ April,
faith , he is able to write good verses. We
would almost match the fortituile that
quails not at the good Jesuit's poems with
his own which carried him serenely to the
fatal trcc. The stuff of which poets are
made, whether finer or not, is of a very dif
ferent fibre from that which is used in the
tough fabric of martyrs . It is time that
an carnest protest should be uttered against
the wrong done to the religious sentiment
by the greater part of what is called relig
ious poetry, and which is commonly a
painful something misnamed by the noun
anul misqualified by the adjective. To
dilute David , and make doggerel of that
majestic prose of the Prophets which has
thie glow and wide-orbited metre of con
stellations, may be a usctul occupation to
keep country -gentlemen out of litigation
or retired clergymen from polemics; but to
regard these metrical mechanics as sacred
because nobody wishes to touch them , as
meritorious because no one can be merry
in their company , —to rank them in the
same class with those ancient songs of the
Church , sweet with the breath of saints,
sparkling with the tears of forgiven peni
tents, and warm with the fervor ofmartyrs ,
-nay, to set them up beside such pocms as
those of Herbert, composed in the upper
chambers of the soul that open toward the
sun's rising, is to confound piety with dul
ness, and the manna of heaven with its
sickening namesake from the apothecary's
drawer. The “ Enchiridion ” of Quarles
is hardly worthy of the author of the
ter of heartbreak, if it were so. Of the
dramatic works of Marston it is enough
to say that they are truly works to the
reader, but in no sense dramatic, nor
worth the paper they blot. lle scems to
have been deemed worthy of republication
because he was the contemporary of true
poets ; and if all the Tuppers of the nine
teenth century will buy his plays on the
same principle, the sale will be a remunera
tive one. The llomer of Chapman is so
precious a gift, that we are ready to forgive
all Mr. Smith's shortcomings in considera
tion of it. It is a vast placer, full of nuggets
for the philologist and the lover of poetry.
Having now run cursorily through the
series of Mr. Smith's reprints, we come to
the closer question of Flow are they edited ?
Whatever the merit of the original works,
1858.] Literary Notices.
the editors , whicther self-elected or chosen
by the publisher, should be accurate and
scholarly. The editing of the Homer
we ໂກ eartily commend ; and Dr. Rim-
bault, wlio carried the works of Overbury
through the press, lias donc his work well ;
but the other volumes of the Library are
very cruditable neither to English scholar-
ship nor to Englislı typograplıy. The In-
troductions to some of them are enough
to make us think that we are fallen to the
necessity of reprinting our old authors
because the art of writing correct and
graceiul Englislı has been lost . William
B. Turnbull, Esq ., of Lincoln's Inn, Bar-
rister at Law , says, for instance, in his In-
troiluction to Southwell : “ There was
resident at Uxendon, near Harrow on the
Hill, in Middlesex, a Catholic family of the
name of Bellamy whom ( which ] South-
well was in the habit of visiting and pro-
viding with religious instruction when he
exchanged his ordinary (ordinarily) close
confinement for a purer atmosphere.”
( pp. xxii .-xxiii . ) Again , ( p. xxii . , ) “ Hc
bad, in this manner, for six years ,pursued ,
with very great success, the objects of his
mission, whien these were abruptly termi-
nated by his foul betrayal into the hands
of his enemies in 1592.” We should like
to have Mr. Turnbull explain how the
oljects of a mission could be terminated by
a betrayal, however it might be with the
mission itself. From the many similar
flowers in the Introduction to Mather's
“ Providences,” by Mr. George Offor, ( in
whom , we fear, we recognize a country.
man , ) we select the following : “ It was at
this period when, ( that ) oppressed by the
ruthless hand of persecution , our pilgrim
fathers, threatened with torture and death , ably simulating heresy, wrought, with
succumbed not to man , but trusting on
(in) an almighty arm, braved the dangers
of an almost unknown occan , and threw
themselves into the arms of men called
savages, who prover more beneficent than
national Christians." To whom or what
our pilgrim fithers did succumb, and what
“ national Christians " are, we leave, with
the song of the Sirens , to conjecture.
Speaking of the “ Providences," Mr. Offor
says, that " they faithfully delincate the
state of public opinion two hundred ycars
ago , the most striking feature being an
implicit faith in the power of the (in-]visi-
ble world to hold visible intercourse with
man :-not the angels to bless poor erring
763
mortals, but of demons imparting power to
witches and warlocks to injure, terrify and
destroy ,” — a sentence which we defy any
witch or warlock, though he were Michael
Scott himself, to parse with the astutest
demonic aid . On another page , he says
of Dr. Mather, that “ he was one of the
first divines who discovered that very
many strange events, which were consid
cred preternatural, had occurred in the
course of nature or by deceitful juggling ;
that the Devil could not speak English,
nor prevail with l’rotestants ; the smell
of herbs alarms the Devil ; that medi.
cine drives out Satan !” We do not won .
der that Mr. Ofor put a mark of exclama
tion at the end of this surprising sentence,
but we do confess our astonishment that
the vermilion pencil of the proof-reader
suffered it to pass unchallenged. Leaving
its bad English out of the question, we
find, on referring to Mather's text, that he
was never guilty of the absurdity of be
lieving that Satan was less eloquent in
English than in any other language ; that
it was the British (Welsh ) tongue which a
certain demon whose education had been
neglected (not the Devil) could not speak ;
that Mather is not fool enough to say that
the Fiend cannot prevail with l’rotestants ,
nor that the smell of herbs alarms him ,
nor that medicine drives him out.
Mr.Offör is superbly Protestant and icon
oclastic, — not sparing, as we have seen,
even Priscian's head among the rest ; but,
en revanche, Mr. Turnbull is ultramontane
beyond the editors of the Civiltà Cattolica .
He allows himself to say, that, " after
Southwell's death , one of his sisters, a
Catholic in heart, but timidly and blame.
some relics of the martyr, scvcral cures
on persons afflicted with desperate and
deadly diseases, which had baffled the skill
of all physicians. ” Mr. Turnbull is, we
suspect, a recent convert, or it would oc
cur to him that doctors are still secure of
a lucrative practice in countries full of the
relics of greater saints than even South
well . That father was banged (according
to Protestants ) for treason , and the relic
which put the whole pharmacopæia to
shame was , if we mistake not, his neck
erchief. But whatever the merits of the
Jesuit himself, and however it may gratify
Mr. Turnbull's catechumenical enthusiasm
to exalt the curative properties of this
764 Literary Notices.
integument of his, even at the expense
of Jesuits ' bark, we cannot but think
that he has shown a credulity that unfits
him for writing a fair narrative of his
hero's life , or making a tolerably just esti-
mate of his verses. It is possible, how-
ever, that these last seem prosaic as a
neck-tie only to heretical readers.
Anything more helplessly inauleqnate
than Mr. Oftor's preliminary dissertation
on Witchcraft we never read ; but we could
haruly expect much from an editor whose
citations from the book he is editing show
that he had either not read or not under-
stood it.
We have singled out the Introductions
of Messrs . Turnbull and Offor for special
animadversion because they are on the
whole the worst, both of them being offen
sively sectarian , while that of Mr. Offor in
particular gives us almost no information
whatever. Some of the others are not
without grave faults, chief among which
is a vague declamation, especially out of
place in critical essays , where it serves
only to weary the reader and awaken his
distrust. In his Introduction to Wither's
“ Hallelujah , ” for instance , Mr. Farr in-
forms us that “ ncarly all the best poets of
the latter half of the sixteenth century ,
for that was the period when the Reforma-
tion was fully established and the whole
of the seventeenth century were sacred
6
pocts," and that “ even Shakspeare and
the contemporary dramatists of his age
sometimes attuned their well-strung harps
to the songs of Zion .” Comment on state-
ments like these would be as useless as the
assertions themselves are absurd .
We have quoted these examples only to
justify us ir saying, that Mr. Smith must se-
lect his editors with more care , if he wishes
that his “ Library of Old Authors ” should
deserve the confidence and thereby gain
the good word of intelligent readers,
without which such a series can neither
win nor keep the patronage of the public.
It is impossible that men who cannot con-
struct an English sentence correctly, and
who do not know the value of clearness in
writing, should be able to disentangle the
knots which slovenly printers have tied
in the thread of an old author's meaning ;
and it is more than doubtful whether they
who assert carelessly , cite inaccurately ,
and write loosely are not by nature dis-
qualified for doing thoroughly what they
[ April,
undertake to do. If it were unreasonable
to demand of every one who assumes to
cdit one of our carly poets the critical acu
men , the genial sense, the illimitable rcad
ing, the philological scholarship , which in
combination would alone make the ideal
cditor, it is not presumptuous to expect
some one of these qualifications singly , and
we have the right to insist upon patience
and accuracy , which are within the reach
of every one, and without which all the
others are wellnigh vain . Now to this vir
tue of accuracy Mr. Offor specifically lays
claim in one of liis remarkable sentences :
“ We are bound to admire,” he says , “the
accuracy and beauty of this specimen of
typography. Following in the path of my
late friend William Pickering, our publish
cr rivals the Aldine and Elzevir presses,
which have been so universally admired.”
We should think that it was the product
of those presses which had been admired ,
and that Mr. Smith presents a still wor
thier object of admiration when he con
trives to follow a path and rival a press at
the same time. But let that pass ;-it is
the claim to accuracy which we dispute ;
and we deliberately affirm , that, as far as
we are able to judge by the volumes we
have examined, no claim more unfound
ed was ever set up. In some cases, as
we shall show presently, the blunders of
the original work have been followed
with paintul accuracy in the reprint; but
many others have been added by the
carelessness of Mr. Smith's printers or
cilitors. In the thirteen pages of Mr.
Otfor's own Introduction we have found
as many as seven typographical errors,
unless some of them are to be excused
on the ground that Mr. Offor's studies
have not yet led him into those arcana
where we are taught such recondite myg .
teries of language as that verbs agree with
their nominatives. In Mr. Farr's Intro
duction to the “ IIymns and Songs ” nine
short extracts from other poems of Wither
are quoted, and in these we have found no
less than seven inisprints or false readings
which materially affect the sense . Text
ual inaccuracy is a grave fault in the new
cdition of an old poet ; and Mr. Farr is not
only liable to this charge, but also to that
of making blundering misstatements which
are calculated to mislead the careless or
uncritical reader. Infected by the absurd
cant which has been prevalent for the last
1858.] Literary Notices.
dozen years among literary sciolists, he
says, - " The language used by Wither in
all his various works - whether secular or
sacred — is pure Saxon .” Taken literally,
this assertion is manifestly ridiculous, and,
allowing it every possible limitation, it is
not only untrue of Wither, but of every
English poet, from Chaucer down. The
translators of our Bible made use of the
German version , and a poet versifying the
English Scriptures would therefore be like
ly to use more words of Teutonic origin
than in his original compositions. But no
English poet can write English poetry ex-
cept in Englislı, -- that is, in that compound
of Teutonic and Romanic which derives
its heartiness and strength from the one
and its canorous elegance from the other.
The Saxon language does not sing, and,
though its tough mortar serve to hold to.
gether the less compact Latin words, po
rous with vowels , it is to the Latin that
our versc owes majesty, harmony, variety,
and the capacity for rhyme. A quotation
of six lines from Wither ends at the top
of the very page on which Mr. Farr lays
down his extraordinary dictum , and we will
let this answer him , Italicizing the words
of Romanic derivation :
“ Her true beauty leaves behind
Apprehensims in the mind,
Of more sweetness than all art
Or inventions can impart ;
Thoughts too deep to be expressed,
And too strong to be suppressed ."
But space fails us, and we shall take up
the editions of Marston and Webster in a
future article.
Galleries and Cabinets of Art in Great Brit- We know, indeed, no work by the master
ain, etc. By DR. WAAGEN . Forming
a Supplemental Volume to the “ Treas-
ures of Art in Great Britain ." 8vo.
London . 1857.
The Manchester Exhibition , although
containing a vast number of works of Art,
displayed but a small portion of the treas-
ures of painting and sculpture scattered
through Great Britain , in the city and
country houses of the upper classes. Ev-
ery year is adding greatly to the number
and value of both private and public gal-
leries in England. It is but three years
since Dr. Waagen published his three
765
ponderous volumes on the “ Treasures of
Art in Great Britain ," and he has already
found new material for a fourth , not less
cumbrous than its predecessors. The
larger part of this last volume is, indeed,
composed of descriptions of galleries ex
isting at the time of the publication of his
first work, but the most interesting por
tion of it relates to the acquisitions that
have been made within the last three
years.
A better taste, and a truer appreciation
of the relative merits of works of Art,
prevails in England now than at any pre
vious time, and the recent acquisitions are
distinguished not more by their number
than by their intrinsic value. The Na
tional Gallery has at last begun to make
its purchases upon a systematic plan, and
is endeavoring to form such a collection as
shall exhibit the historic progress of the
various schools of painting. The late ad
ditions to it have been of peculiar inter
est in this vicw ; including some very ad
mirable pictures by masters whose works
are rare and of real importance. Among
them are very noble works of some of the
chief earlier Florentine, Umbrian , and
Venetian masters ; especially a beautiful
picture by Benozzo Gozzoli, ( the Virgin
enthroned with the infant Saviour in her
arms and surrounded by Saints ,) - a thor
oughly characteristic specimen of Giovanni
Bellini, ( also a Virgin holding the Child, )
in which the deep, fervent, and tender
spirit, the manly feeling, and the unsur
passed purity of color of this great master
are well shown , and one of the finest ex
isting pictures of Perugino, the three low
er and principal compartments of an altar
picce painted for the Certosa at Pavia.
of Raphael to be set above this. Two of
the best pictures of Paul Veronese have
also just been added to the National Gal
lery.
Still more important are the recent
private purchases. The Duke of North
umberland procured in Rome, in 1856 , the
whole of Camuccini's famous collection.
It contained seventy -four pictures, and
many of them of great value. Among
them was a small, but precious picture by
Giotto , -a beautiful little Raphael,-three
undoubted works of Titian ,-and, most
precious of all, a picture, formerly in the
Ludovisi collection, painted jointly by
766 Literary Notices.
Giovanni Bellini and Titian . It is the
Descent of the Gods to taste the Fruits of
the Earth , half -comic in conception, but
remarkable for the grace of some of its
figures ; the landscape is by Titian , and
Dr. Waagen says, justly , that “ it is , with-
out comparison, the finest that up to that
period had ever been painteci,” — and we
would adıl, for finer have been painted
since.
Meanwhile Sir Charles Eastlake lias
obtained a picture by Mantegna, and an-
other by Bellini, both of which rank very
high among the works of these masters,
and both in excellent condition . And
Mr. Alexander Barker, whose collection
is becoming one of the best selected and
most interesting in England, las pur-
chased several pictures of yrcat value,
especially one by Verocchio, the master
of Leonardo da Vinci, wbichi Dr. Waagen
66
speaks ot as the most important picture
I know by this rare master.” Mr. Barker
lias also made an addition to liis collection
so recent as not to be described even in
this last volume of the “ Art Treasures,”
but which is of unsurpassed interest. lle
has purchased from the Manfrini Gallery
at Venice, a gallery which has long been
famous as containing some of the best
works of the Venetian school, eighteen of
its best pictures, and was lately in treaty
for a still larger number. lle has already
secured Titian's portrait of Ariosto, Gior-
gione's portrait of a woman with a guitar,
and other works by these masters, by
Palma Vecchio, Giovanni Bellini, and
other chief Venetian painters. We trust
that lie may bring to England ( if it must
leave Venice ) Bellini's St. Jerome, a pic-
ture of the most precious character.
This catalogue, long as it already is, by
no means conipletes the list of the last
three years' gains of pictures for England .
Such a record shows how compact with
treasures the little island is becoming.
And meanwhile , what is America doing
in this way ? The overestimate of the
importance and value of Mr. Belmont's
collection in New York shows how far the
American public yet is from knowing its
own ignorance and poverty in respect to
Art.
No praise can be given to the cxccution
of Dr. Waagen's book . Ilis descriptions
of pictures are rarely characteristic ; his
tode and standard of judgment are worth-
[April,
less ; his style of writing is poor ; his in
accuracies frequent ; and his flunkeyismı
intolerable . It would be an excellent un.
dertaking for a competent person , using
Dr. Waagen's book as a basis , to compress
the account of the principal private gal.
leries, those which really contain pic
tures of value, into one small and porta
ble volume,-to serve as a handbook for
travellers in England , as well as for a guide
to the present place of pictures interesting
in the history of artists anil of Art . Such
a volume, it well done, would be of vastly
more value'than these heavy four. The
usual delightful liberality of English col
lectors in opening their galleries to the
public on certain dars would make such
a rolume something more than a mere
tantalizing exposition of treasures that
could not be seen , and would render it, to
all lovers of Art, an indispensable com
pavion in England. We may add that this
liberality miglt be imitated with advan
tage by the directors of some collections
in which the public have a greater claim .
We tried once in vain to get sight of
the portraits of Alleyn and Burbage at
Dulwich College, and were preventer
from seeing the llogarths in the Sloane
Museum by the length of time required
for tlie preliminary ceremonies .
The New American Cyclopedia . A Popu
lar Dictionary of General Knowledge.
Edited by GEORGE RIPLEY and Clas.
A. DASA . Vol. I. A - ARAGUAY . New
York : D. Appleton & Co. 8vo .
Tue design of this work is to furnish
the American public with a Cyclopædia
which shall be readable as well as valuable,
possessing all the advantages of a diction .
ary of knowledge for the purposes of ref.
erence, and all the interest which results
from a scholarly trcatment of the subjects.
Judging from the first volume, it will occu
ry a middle ground between the great
Incyclopædias and the numerous special
Dictionaries of Art and Science ; and if its
plan be carried out with the vigor and
skill which mark its commencement, it
will , when completed , be the best and
most condensed Cyclopædia for popular
use in any langnage. The guaranty for
its successful completion is to be found in
the character and abilities of the editors,
 1858.] Literary Notices. 767

and the resources at their command. Mr. pædia which shall be satisfactory to all
Ripley is an accomplished man of letters, readers alike is an ideal which the human
familiar with the whole field of literature imagination may contemplate, but which
and philosophy, gifted with a mental apti- seems to be beyond the reach of human wit
tude equally for facts and ideas, a fanatic practically to attain . Besides, cach reader
for no particular branch of knowledge, but is apt to have a pet interest in certain per
with a genial appreciation of cach , and suns, events, topics, beliefs , which stand
endowed with a largeness anıl catholicity in his own mind for universal knowledge,
of inind which eminently fit him to mould and he is naturally vexer to find how their
the multitudinous materials of a work like importance dwindles when they appear in
the present into the form of a prescribed relation to the whole of nature and human
plan. Mr. Dana is well known as one of life . In respect to Biography, especially
the chief eclitors of the most influential in a Cyclopædia which admits lives of the
journal in the country, as combining vig. living as well as the dead, and to whose
orous intellect with indefatigable indus- biographical department a great variety of
try , and as capable, both in the domain of authors contribute , there is an inherent
facts and in the domain of principles, of difficulty of preserving the proper grada
étoiling terribly .” The resources of the tion of reputations. Doubtless, many an
editors are, literally, almost too numerous American gentleinan will find that this
to mention . They include the different Cyclopædia gives him an importance, in
Encyclopadias and popular Conversations- comparison with the rest of the world,
Lexicons in various languages,-recent which time will not sanction ; and doubt.
biographies, histories, books of travel, and less, some of the dead As, if rapped into
scientific treatises, —the opportunities of utterance by the modern process of spirit
research atfurled by the best private and ual communication, would complain of the
public libraries, —and a body of contrib- curt statement which coffined their souls
utors, scattered over different portions of in a space more limited than that now oc
the United States and Europe, of whom cupied by their bodies. The biographies,
nearly a hundred have written for the howerer, of John Adams, John Quincy
present volume, and, in some cases, have Adams, Addison, Æschylus, Mark Antho
contributed the results of personal obser- ny , Altieri, Akenside, Allston , Agassiz,
vation, research , and discovery. These and a number of others, are evidently by
contributors are selected with a view to “ cminent hands, ” and, as compared with
their proficiency and celebrity in their sey- the rest, are treated with more fulness
eral departments. The scientific articles and richness of detail , with an easier and
are written by scientific men ; those on more genial mastery of the subjects, and
technology and machinery, by practical with less fear of being redundant in good
machinists and engineers ; those on mili- things. Still , most of the biographies
tary and naval atlairs, by oflicers of the serve the primary purpose of the work as
army and navy ; and those which relate a book of reference, and contain as large
to the history and doctrines of the various an amount of information as could well be
Christian churches and denominations, by crammed into so limited a space.
men who have both the knowledge of their Such a variety of minds have been en
subjects which comes from stuly and the gaged on the present volume, that among
knowledge which comes from sympathy. its twenty -five hundred articles will be
The plan of the clitors implies a perfect found every kind of style, from austere
ncutrality in regard to all controverted scientific statement, to brilliant wit and
points in politics, science, philosophy, anıl tancy . Two subjects, never before in
religion ; and though they cannot avoid cluded in a Cyclopaedia in the English lan
controversy as a fact in the history of guage, namely, Esthetics and Absolute,
opinion, it is their purpose to have the are ably , though far tvo bricfly treated.
('yclopædia vive an impartial statement of Entertainment is not overlooked in the
various opinions without an intrusion of plan of the editors, anıl there are some
their own or those of their contributors. articles, like those on Almacks, Actors,
In considering how far, in tlic first volume, and Adventures, which contain informa
they have succeeded in their general de- tion at once curious and amusing. The
sign, it must be remembered that a Cyclo- article “ Americanism ” might have been
768 Literary Notices.
made much more valuable and pleasing,
had the subject been treated at greater
length , with more insight into the reasons
which led to the establishment of an
American verbal mint, and with a more
complete list of the felicities of its coisage.
The articles which refer to bodily health ,
such as those on Appetite, Age, Alinient,
Total Abstinence, contain important facts
and admirable suggestions in condensed
statements. Agriculture, Agricultural
Schools, and Agricultural Chemistry are
evidently the work of writers who appre.
ciate the practical wants of the farmer, as
well as understand the aills which science
can furnish him . Two divisions of the
globe, Africa and America , come within
the scope of the present volume, and,
though the special reader will notice in
the articles devoted to them some omis-
sions, and some statements which may re-
quire modification , they bear the general
marks of industry, vigilance, and research.
The paper on Anästhetics is evidently by
a writer who meant to be impartial, but
still injustice is done to the claims of Dr.
Jackson, and we trust that in the next edi-
tion some of the statements will be cor-
rected, even if the whole question of the
discovery is not more thoroughly argued.
It seems curious that a discovery which
destroys pain should be a constant cause
of pain to every person in any way con-
nected with it. It may not be within
the province of a Cyclopædia to under-
take the decision of a question still so
vehemently controverted ; but we think
it might be so stated as to include all the
facts, harmonize portions at least of the
conflicting evidence, and put some peo
[ April.
ple “ out of pain .” We must attribute it
to a careless reading of the proof-sheets
that the editors have allowed the conclud
ing paragraph in the article “ Adams ” to
intrude village gossip into a work which
should be an example to American schol
arship, and not a receptacle of newspaper
scandal .
In conclusion , we think that the impres.
sion which an examination of the present
volume , considered as a whole, Icaves on
the mind is , that the editors have gener.
ally succeeded in making it both con
prehensive and compact, --comprehensive
without being superficial, and compact
without being dry and dull . As a book for
the desultory reader, it will be found full
of interest and attractiveness, while it is
abundantly capable of bearing severer tests
than any to which the desultory reader
will be likely to subject it. Minor faults
can easily be detected, but we think its
great merits are much more obvious than
its little defects. The probability is, that,
when completed , it will be found to con
tain articles by almost every person of
literary and scientific note in the United
States ; for the wide and friendly relations
which the editors hold with American au
thors and sarans, of all sects, parties, and
sections, will enable them to obtain valu
able contributions , even if the general in
terest in the success of an American Cy.
clopadia were not sufficient of itself to
draw the intellect of the country to its
pages. As a work which promises to be
so honorable to the literature of the coun
try, we trust that it will meet with a pub
lic patronage commensurate with its de .
serts .
 1
THE

ATLANTIC MONTHLY,
A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL. I.-MAY, 1858.—NO. VII.

AMERICAN ANTIQUITY.

The results of the past ten or fifteen these were scarcely more than visions for
years in historical investigation are ex- a moment, before darkness again covered
ceedingly mortifying to any one who has the view . Our mythology and philosophy
been proud to call himself aa student of of the past were almost equally misty and
History. We had thought, perhaps, that vague. History was to us a succession
we knew something of the origin of hu- of facts ; empire succeeding empire, and
man events and the gradual development one form of civilization another, with
from the past into the world of to-day. scarcely more connection than in the
We had read Herodotus, and Gibbon, scenes of a theatre ;-the great isolated
and Gillies, and done manful duty with fact of all being the existence of the
Rollin . There were certain comfortable, Jews. All cosmic myths and noble con
definite facts in antiquity. Romulus and ceptions of Deity and pure religious be
Remus were our friends ; the transmis- liefs were only offshoots of Hebrew tra
sion of the alphabet by the Phænicians dition.
was a resting -spot; the destruction of This, we are pained to say, is all
Babylon and the date of the Flood were changed now. Our beloved dates, our
fixed stations in the wilderness. In more easy explanation, and popular narrative
modern periods, we had a refuge in the are half dissolved under the touch of
date of the discovery of America ; and if modern investigation. Roman History
we were forced back into the wilds and abandons poor Romulus and Remus ; the
uncertainties of American History, Mr. Flood sinks into a local inundation, and
Prescott soon restored to us the buried is pushed back nobody knows how many
empires, and led us easily back through thousands of years ; an Egyptian anti
a few plain centuries. quity arises of which Herodotus never
Beyond these dates, indeed, there was knew ; and Josephus is proved ignorant
a shadowy land, through whose changing of his own subject. Nothing is found
mists could be seen sometimes the grand separate from the current of the world's
outlines of abandoned cities, or the faint history ,-neither Hebrew law and reli
forms of temples, or the graceful column gion, nor Phænician commerce, nor Hin
or massive tomb, which marked the dis- doo mythology, nor Grecian art. On
tant path of the advancing race : but the shadowy Past, over the deserted
VOL . I. 49
770 American Antiquity. [ May,
battle-fields, the burial-mounds, the mau- ancient picture-writing and the remains
solea, the temples, the altars, and the of the wonderful ruins of that region.
habitations of perished nations, new rays Probably no stranger has ever enjoyed
of light are cast. Peoples not heard of better opportunities of reading the an
before, empires forgotten , conquests not cient manuscripts and studying the di
recorded, arts unknown in their place alects of the Central American races.
at this day, and civilizations of which With these helps he has prepared a
all has perished but the language, ap- groundwork for the history of the early
pear again. The world wakes to find civilized peoples of our American con
itself much older than it thought. His- tinent,-a history, it should be remem
tory is hardly the same study that it once bered, ending where Prescott's begins,
was.
Even more than the investigations -reaching back, possibly, as far as the
of hieroglyphs and bass -reliefs and sculp- earliest invasions of the Huns, and one
tures, during the past few years, have of whose fixed dates is at the time of
the researches in one especial direction the Antonines. He has ventured to lift,
changed the face of the ancient world . at length, the veil from our mysterious
Laxguage is found to be itself the and confused American antiquity. It is
best record of a nation's origin , develop- an especial merit of M. de Bourbourg, in
ment, and relation to other races. Each this stage of the investigation, that he has
vocabulary and grammar of a dead na- attempted to do no more. He has col
tion is a Nineveh, rich in pictures, in- lected and collated facts, but has sought
scriptions, and historical records, uncov- to give us very few theories. The stable
ering to the patient investigator not mere- philosophical conclusions he leaves for
ly the external life and actions of the later research , when time shall hare
people, but their deepest internal life, been afforded for fuller comparison.
and their connection with other peoples There is an incredible fascination to
and times. The little defaced word , the many minds in these investigations into
cast-away root, the antique construction , the traditions and beliefs of antiquity.
picked up by the student among the ves- We feel in their presence that they are
tiges of a language, may be aa relic fresher the oldest things ; the most ancient books,
from the past and older than a stone or buildings, or sculptures are modern by
from the Pyramids, or the sculpture of their side. They represent the childish
the Assyrian temple. instincts of the human mind , —its grop
In American history, this work of in- ings after Truth , -its dim ideals and
vestigation till recently had not been shadowings forth of what it hopes will
thoroughly entered upon . Within the be. They are the carliest answers of
last quarter of a century, Kingsborough man to the great questions, WHENCE
and Gallatin and Prescott and Davis and WHITHER ?
and Squier and Schoolcraft and Müller
have each thrown some light over the The most ancient people of Central
mysterious antiquity of our own conti- America, according to M. de Bourbourg,
nent. But of all, a French Abbé, an -a people referred to in all the oldest
ethnologist and a careful investigator ,- traditions, but of whom everything except
M. BRASSEUR DE BOURBOURG,—has, the memory has passed away, -are the
in a history recently published, done the Quinames. Their rule extended over
best service to this cause. It is entitled Mexico and Guatemala, and there is
* Histoire des Nations Civilisées du Mex reason to suppose that they attained to a
ique et de l'Amérique Centrale .” (Paris, considerable height of civilization. The
1857.) M. de Bourbourg spent many only accounts of their origin are the oral
years in Central America, studying the traditions repeated to the Spaniards by
face of the country and the languages of the Indians of Yucatan ,-traditions re
the Indian tribes, and investigating the lating that the fathers of this great na
1858. ] American Antiquity . 771

tion came from the East, and that God the noble features seem to be transmuted
had delivered them from the pursuit of in the confused tradition into the coun
their enemies and had opened to them tenance of Divinity. Whether this mys
a way over the sea. Other traditions terious person is only the American em
reveal to us the Quinames as delivered bodiment of the Hope of all Nations, or
up to the most unnatural vices of an- whether he was truly a wise and noble
cient society. Whether the Cyclopean legislator, driven by some accident to
ruins scattered over the continent,—vast these shores from a foreign country, anıl
masses of stone placed one upon another afterwards glorified by the gratitude of
without cement, which existed before the his people, is uncertain, though our author
splendid cities whose ruins are yet seen inclines naturally to the latter supposi
in Central America ,—whether these are tion . The expression of the Tzendale
the work of this race , or of one still older, tradition, “ Votan is the first man whom
is entirely uncertain . God sent to divide and distribute these
The most ancient language of Central lands of America,” (Vol. I. p. 42.) in
America, the ground on which all the suc- dicates that he found the continent in
ceeding languages have been planted, is habiteil, and cither originated the distri
the Maya. Even the Indian languages bution of property or became a conquer
of to -day are only combinations of their or of the country. The evidence of tra
own idioms with this ancient tongue. Its dition woulil clearly prove that at the
daughter, the Tzendale, transmits many arrival of Votan the great proportion of
of the oldest and most interesting relig- the inhabitants, from the Isthmus of Pa
ious beliefs of the Indian tribes. nama to the territories of California,
All the traditions, whether in the Qui- were in a savage condition. The build
che, the Mexican, or the Tzendale, unite ers of the Cyclopcan ruins were the only
in one somewhat remarkable belief, —in exception.
the reverent mention of an ancient De- The various traditions agree that this
liverer or Benefactor ; a personage so en- elevated being, the father of American
veloped in the halo of religions sentiment civilization, inculcated first of all a belief
and the mist of remote antiquity, that it in a Supreme Creator, Lord of Heaven
is difficult to distinguish his real form. and Earth. It is a singular fact, that the
With the Tzendale his name is Votan ; * ancient Quiche tradition represents the
among the many other names in other Deity as a Triad, or Trinity, with the dei
languages, QUETZALCONCATL is the one fied heroes arranged in orders below,-a
most distinctive. Sometimes he appears representation not improbably connected
as a wise and dignified legislator, arrived with the Hindoo conception. The belief
sudilenly among an ignorant people from in a Supreme Being seems to have been
an unknown country, to instruct them in generally diffused among the Central
agriculture, the arts, and even in religion. American and Mexican tribes, even as
Hle bears suffering in their behalf, pa- late as the arrival of the Spaniards. The
tiently labors for them , and, when at Mexicans adored IIim under the name of
length he has done his work, departs IPALNEMOALOXI, or “ Him in whom and
alone from amid the weeping crowd to by whom we are and live.” This “ God
the country of his birth. Sometimes lie of all purity,” as he is addressed in a Mex
is the mediator between Deity and men ; ican prayer, was too elevated for vulgar
then again, a personification of the Di- thought or representation. No altars or
vine wisdoin and glory; and still again, temples were erected to him ; and it was
only under one of the later kings of the
* The resemblance of this name to the
Teutonic Wuotan or Odin is certainly striking, Aztec monarchy that a temple was built
and will afford a new argument to the enthu to the “ Unknown God . ” — Vol. I. p. 46.
siastic Rafn , and other advocates of a Scan The founders of the early American
dinavian colonization of America. -EDD. civilization bear various titles : they are
772 American Antiquity. [May,
called “ The Master of the Mountain , " confounded with the first appearance of
“ The Heart of the Lake,” “ The Master
66
the earth from the chaos of waters.
of the Azure Surface," and the like. Even “ This is the first word ,” says the Qui
in the native traditions, the questions are che text. “ There were neither men,
often asked : “ Whence came these men ? " nor animals, nor birds, nor fishes, nor
“ Under what climate were they born ? ” wood, nor stones, nor valleys, nor herbs,
One authority answers thus mysterious- nor forests. There was only the heaven.
ly : “ They have clearly come from the The image of the earth did not yet show
other shore of the sea ,—from the place itself. There was only the sea , on all
which is called "· CAMUHIFAL,' — The sides surrounded by the heaven.
place where is shadow .” Why may not Nothing bad motion, and not the least
this singular expression refer to a North- sigh agitated the air. In the
ern country,-a place where is a long midst of this calm and this tranquillity,
shadow , a winter-night ? was only the Father and the Maker, in
A singular characteristic of the ancient the obscurity of the night ; there were
Indian legends is the mingling of two only the Fathers and Generators on the
separate courses of tradition. In their whitening water, and they were clad in
poetic conceptions, and perhaps under azure raiment. And it is on account
the hands of their priests, the old myths of them that heaven exists, and exists
of the Creation are constantly confused equally the Heart of Heaven, which is
with the accounts of the first periods of the name of God.” — Vol. I. p. 51.*
their civilization . The legend then pictures a council be
The following is the most ancient le- tween these “ Fathers " and the Supreme
gend of the Creation , from the MSS. of Creator; after which, the word is spoken ,
Chichicastenango, in the Quiche text : and the earth bursts forth from the dark
“ When all that was necessary to be ness, with its great mountains and forests
created in heaven and on earth was fin- and animals and birds, as they might to
ished, the heaven being formed, its an- a voyager approaching the shore . An
gles measured and lined, its limits fixed , episode occurs, describing a deluge, but
the lines and parallels put in their place still bearing in it the traces of the double
in heaven and on earth, beaven found tradition ,-- the onc referring to some pri
itself created, and Heaven it was called meval catastrophe, and the other to a
by the Creator and Maker, the Father local inundation, which had perhaps sur
and Mother of Life and Existence, prised the first legislators in the midst
the Mother of Thought and Wisdom , the
excellence of all that is in heaven and * Compare the Hindoo conception , trans
lated from one of the old Vedic legends, in
on earth , in the lakes or the sea. It is
Bunsen's Philosophy of History :
thus that he called himself, when all was
“ Nor Aught nor Nought existed ; yon bright
tranquil and calm , when all was peace sky
able and silent, when nothing had move- Was not, nor heaven's broad roof outstretched
ment in the void of the heavens.” _ Vol. above.
I. p. 48. What covered all ? What sheltered ? What
concealed ?
In the narrative of the succeeding work
Was it the waters' fathomless abyss ?
of creation, says M. de Bourbourg, there There was not death,—yet was there nought
is always a double sense. Creation and immortal.
life are civilization ; the silence and calm There was no confine betwixt day and night.
of Nature before the existence of animat- The only One breathed breathless by itself;
ed beings are the calm and tranquillity Other than it there nothing since has been.
of Ocean, over which a sail is flying to Darkness there was, and all at first was veiled
wards an unknown shore ; and the first In gloom profound, -, an ocean without light.
The germ that still lay covered in the busk
aspect of the shores of America, with its Burst forth , one nature, from the ſervent
mighty mountains and great rivers, is heat."
1858.] American Antiquity. 773

of their efforts. abundance, but there is no grain which

The Mexican tradition
(Codex Chimalpopoca) shows more dis requires culture, and which would give
tinctly the united action of the Mediator origin to a continued industry. The le
( Quetzalcohuatl) and the Deity : From gend relates, somewhat naïvely, the hun
ashes had God created man and animated ger and distress of these elevated beings,
him, and they say it is Quetzalcohuatl until at length they discover the maize,
who hath perfected him who had been and other nutritious fruits and grains
made, and hath breathed into him , on the in the country of Paxil and Cayala.
seventh day, the breath of life.” Our author places these latter in the
Another legend, after describing the state of Chiapas, and the countries water
creation of men of wood , and women ed by the Usumasinta. The provinces of
of cibak, (the marrow of the corn-flag.) Mexico and the Atlantic border of Central
tells us that “ the fathers and the chil- America he supposes to be those where
dren, from want of intelligence, did not the first legislators of America landed,
use the language which they bad re- and where was the cradle of the first
ceived to praise the benefaction of their American civilization. In these regions,
creation, and never thought of raising the great city attributed to Votan ,-Pa
their eyes to praise HURAKAN . Then lenque,—the ruins of whose magnificent
were they destroyed in an inundation. temples and palaces even yet astonish
There descended from heaven a rain of the traveller, was one of the first products
bitumen and resin . . . And on account of this civilization.
of them , the earth was obscured ; and it With regard to the much-vexed ques
rained night and day. And men went tion of the origin of the Indian races, M.
and came, out of themselves, as if struck de Bourbourg offers no theory. In his
with madness. They wished to mount view, the evidence from language estab
upon the roofs, and the houses fell be- lishes no certain connection between the
neath them ; when they took refuge in Indian tribes and any other race what
the caves and the grottoes, these closed ever ; though, as he justly remarks, the
over them . This was their punishment knowledge of the languages of the North
and destruction .” _ Vol. I. P. 55 . east of Asia and of the interior of America
In the Mexican tradition, instead of is yet very limited, and more complete
the rain we find a violent eruption of the investigations must be waited for before
volcanoes, and men are changed into any very satisfactory conclusions can be
fishes, and again into chicime, —which attained. The similarity of the Indian
may designate the barbarian tribes that languages points without doubt to a com
invaded Central America. mon origin, while their variety and im
In still another tradition , the Deity mense number are indications of a high
and his associates are more plainly men antiquity ; for who can estimate the suc
of superior intelligence, laboring to civil- cession of years necessary to subdivide
ize savage races ; and finally, when they a common tongue into so many lan
cannot inspire two essential elements of guages, and to give birth out of a sav.
civilization,-a taste for labor, and the age or nomadic life to a civilization like
religious idea, - a sudden inundation that of the Aztecs ?
delivers them from the indocile people. In the passage of man from one hemi
Then - so far as the mysterious language sphere to another he sees no difliculty ;
of the legend can be interpreted—they as, without considering Behring's Strait,
appear to have withdrawn themselves to the voyage from Mantehooria, or Japan,
a more teachable race . But with these following the chain of the Koorile and
the difficulty for the new law -givers is the Aleutian Isles, even to the Peninsula
that they find nothing corresponding of Alaska, would be an enterprise of no
to the productions of the country from great hazard .
which they had come. Fruits are in The traditions of the Indian tribes, as
774 American Antiquity. [May,
well as their monumental inscriptions, gous customs, idioms, and grammatical
point to an Eastern origin. From what forms, many of which were entirely dif
ever direction the particular tribe may ferent from those of the Old World.
have emigrated, they always speak of At the period of the discovery of
their fathers as having come from the America, not a single tribe west of the
rising of the sun. The Quiche, as well Rocky Mountains possessed the least
as the Chippeway traditions, allude to agricultural skill. Whether the supe
the voyages of their fathers from the riority of the Central American and
East, from a cold and icy region , through Dexican tribes was due to more favor
a cloudy and wintry sea, to countries as able circumstances and a more genial
cold and gloomy, from which they again climate , or to the instructions of foreign
turned towards the South . legislators, as their traditions relate, our
Without committing himself to a the- author does not decide. In his view,
ory, M. de Bourbourg supposes that one American agriculture originated in Cen
race—the Quiche-has passed through tral America, and was not one of the
the whole North American continent, sciences brought over by the tribes who
crecting at different stages of its civ- first emigrated from Asia.
ilization those gigantic and mysterious Of the architectural ruins found in
pyramids, the tumuli of the Mississippi Central America M. de Bourbourg says :
Valley, — of whose origin the present “ Among the edifices forgotten by Time
Northern Indian tribes have preserved in the forests of Mexico and Central
no trace, and for whose crection no sin- America are found architectural charac
gle American tribe now would have the teristics so different from one another,
wealth or the superfluous labor. This that it is as impossible to attribute their
race was continually driven towards the construction to one and the same people,
South by more savage tribes, and it at as it is to suppose that they were built at
length reached its favorite seats and the the same epoch. ... The ruins that are
height of its civilization in Central Amer- the most ancient and that have the most
ica . In comparing the similar monu- resemblance to one another are those
ments of Southern Siberia, and the dates which have been discovered in the coun
of the inmigration to the Aztec plateau, try of the Lacandous, the foundations of
with those of the first movements of the the city of Mayapan, some buildings of
lluns and the great revolutions in Asia, Tulha, and the greater part of those of
an indication is given, worthy of being Palenque; it is probable that they belong
followed up by the ethnologist, of the to the first period of American civiliza
· Asiatic origin of the Central American tion ." — Vol. I. p. 85.
tribes. The traditions, inonuments, cus- The truly historical records of Central
toms, mythology, and astronomic systems America go back to a period but little
all point to a similar source. before the Christian era. Beyond that
The thorough study of the aboriginal epoch, we behold through the mists of
races reveals the fact, that the whole con- legends, and in the defaced pictures and
tinent, from the Arctic regions to the sculptures, a hierarchical despotism sus
Southern Pole, was divided irregularly tained by the successors of the mysteri
between two distinct families ;—one no- ous Votan . The empire of the Votan
madic and savage, the other agricultural ides is at length ruined by its own vices
and semi-civilized ; one with no institu- and by the attacks of a vigorous race,
tions or polity or organized religion, the whose records and language have come
other with regular forms of government down even to our day ,—the only race
and hierarchical and religious systems. on the American continent whose name
Though differing so widely, and little as- has been preserved in the memory of
sociated with each other, they possessed the peoples after the ruin of its power,
an analogous physical constitution , analo- the only one whose institutions have sur
1858.] American Antiquity. 775

vived its own existence , -the Nahoa, or The myths which surround his name re
TOLTEC. veal to us a wise legislator and noble
Of all the American languages, the benefactor. He is seen instructing them
Nahuatl holds the highest place, for its in the arts, in religion, and finally in
richness of expression and its sonorous agriculture, by introducing the cultiva
tone,-adapting itself with equal flexibil- tion of maize and other cereals.
ity to the most sublime and analytic terms Whether he had become the object of
of metaphysics, and to the uses of ordi- envy among the people, or whether he felt
nary life, so that even at this day the that his work was done, it appears, so far
Englishman and the Spaniard employ its as the vague traditions can be understood ,
vocabulary for natural objects. that he at length determined to return to
The traditions of the Nahoas describe the unknown country whence he had
their life in the distant Oriental coun- come. He gathered his brethren around
try from which they came : - " There him and thus addressed them :- “ Know ,”
they multiplied to a considerable degree, said he, “ that the Lord your God com
and lived without civilization . They bad mands you to dwell in these lands which
not then acquired the habit of separat- he hath subjected to you this day. For
ing themselves from the places which him, he returns whence he has come.
had seen them born ; they paid no trib- But he goes only to return later ; for he
utes ; and all spoke a single language. will visit you again, when the time sball
They worshipped neither wood nor stone; have arrived in which the world shall
they contented themselves with raising have come to an end.* In the mean
their eyes to heaven and observing the while wait, ye others, in these countries,
law of the Creator. They waited with with the hope of seeing him again ! ...
respect for the rising of the sun, saluting Thus farewell, while we depart with our
with their invocations the morning star. " God ! ”
This is their prayer, handed down in We will not follow the interesting nar
Indian tradition ,—the oldest piece extant rative of the destruction of the ancient
of American liturgy :— “ Hail, Creator empire of the Votanides by the Nahoas
and Former ! Regard us ! Listen to us ! or Toltecs; nor the account of the dis
IIeart of IIcaven ! Heart of the Earth ! persion of these latter over Guatemala,
do not leave us ! Do not abandon us, God Yucatan, and even among the mountains
of Heaven and Earth ! ... Grant of California. This last revolution pre
us repose , a glorious repose , peace and sents the first precise date which scholars
prosperity ! the perfection of life and of have yet been able to assign to early
our being grant to us, O Hurakan ! ” American history ; it probably occurred
What country and what sun nourished A. D. 174.
this worship and gave origin to this great With the account of the invasion of
people is as uncertain as all other facts the Aztec plateau by the Chichemecs, a
of the early American history. They barbarian tribe of the Toltec family, in
came from the East, the tradition says ; the middle of the seventh century, or of
they landed, it seems certain, at Panuco, the establishment of the Toltec inonarchy
near the present port of Tampico, from in Anahuac, we will not delay our read
seven barks or ships. Other traditions ers, as these events bring us down to the
represent them as accompanied by sages period of authentic history, on which we
with venerable beards and flowing robes. bave information from other sources.
They finally settled somewhere ou the " From the moment,” says M. de Bour
coast between Campeachy and the river
* This is the expression of the legend, and
Tabasco, and founded the ancient city of certainly points to the ideas of the Eastern
Xicalanco. Their chief, who in the rev hemisphere. [ The coincidence with the le
erent affection of the nation became af gends of Hiawatha and the Finnish Waina
terwards their Deity, was Quetzalcohuatl. moiven will be remarked . - EDD.]
776 Roger Pierce. [ May,
bourg, “ in which we see the supremacy 1518–1542,] a nation, white and beard
a

of the cities of Culhuacan and Tollan ed, shall come from the side where the
rise over the cities of the Aztec plateau sun rises, bearing with it a sign, (the
dates the true history of this country ; cross,] which shall make all the Gods
but this history is, to speak the truth, to flee and fall. This nation shall rule
only a grand episode in the annals of all the earth, giving peace to those who
this powerful race (the Toltec ). In shall receive it in peace and who will
the course of a wandering of seven or abandon vain images to adore an only
eight centuries, it overturns and de- God , whom these bearded men adore .”
stroys everything in order to build on ( Vol. II. p. 594.) M. de Bourbourg
the ruins of ancient kingdoms its own civ- does not vouch for the pure origin of
ilization, science, and arts ; it traverses the tradition, but suggests that the wise
all the provinces of Mexico and Central men of the Quiche empire already saw
America, leaving everywhere traces of that it contained in itself the elements of
its superstitions, its culture, and its laws, destruction, and had already beard ru
sowing on its passage kingdoms and cities, mors of the wonderful white race which
whose names are forgotten to-day, but was soon to sweep away the last vestiges
whose mysterious memorials are found of the Central American governments.
again in the monuments scattered under
the forest vegetation of ages and in the [Note.- Wecannot but think that our cor
different languages of all the peoples of respondent receives the traditions reported by
these countries." — Vol. I. p. 209 . M. de Bourbourg with too undoubting faith .
Some of them seem to us to bear plain marks
M. de Bourbourg fitly closes his inter of an origin subsequent to the Spanish Con
esting volumes — from which we have quest, and we suspect that others have been
here given a résumé of only the opening considerably modified in passing through the
chapters — with a remarkable prophecy, lively fancy of the Abbé. Even Ixtlilxochiti,
made in the court of Yucatan by the who, as a native and of royal race, must have
high -priest of Mani. According to the had access to all sources of information , and
tradition, this pontiff, inspired by a su who had the advantage of writing more than
pernatural vision , betook himself to Ma three centuries ago, seems to have looked on
the native traditions as extremely untrust
yapan and thus addressed the king : worthy. See Prescott's History of the Con
" At the end of the Third Period , [A. D. quest of Mexico, Vol. I. p. 12, note.-EDD.]

ROGER PIERCE,
THE MAN WITH TWO SHADOWS .

“ There is ever a black spot in our sunshine." CARLYLE.

The sky is gray with unfallen sleet ; of brier flaunts from the steadfast rocks
the wind howls bitterly about the house; that underlic all verdure, and now stand
relentless in its desperate speed, it whirls out, bleak and barren, the truths and
hy green crosses from the fir-boughs in foundations of life, when its ornate glo
the wood ,—dry russet oak -leaves,-tiny ries are fled away. The river flows past,
cones from the larch, that were once rose- a languid stream of lead ; a single crow ,
red with the blood of Spring, but now screaming for its mate, flaps heavily
rattle on the leafless branches, black and against the north -east gale, that enters
bare as they. No leaf remains on any here also and lifts the carpet in long
bough of the forest, no scarlet streamer waves across the floor, whifties light cd
1858.) Roger Pierce. 777

dies of ashes in the chimney -corner, and prehension ; they fought with the Angel
vainly presses on door and window, like of Death, and overcame ; and, as it ever
a houseless spirit shrieking and pining is to the blind nature of man, the con
for a shelter from its bodiless and help quest was greater to them than any gift
less unrest in the elements . The boy grew up into childhood as
The whole air ,-although, within, my other children grow , a daily miracle to
fire crackles and leaps with steady cheer, sec. Only for him incessant care watch
and the red rose on my window is warm ed and waited ; unwearied as the angel
and sanguine with bloom ,—yet this whole that looked from him to the face of God,
air is full of tiny sparks of chill to my so to gather ever fresh strength and
sensitive and morbid nature ; it is at guidance for the wayward child, his
once electric and cold , the very atmos- mother's tender eyes overlooked him all
phere of spirits. — What a shadow passed day, followed his tottering steps from
that pane ! Roger, was it you ? -- The room to room , kept far away from him
storm bursts, in one fierce rush of sleet all fear and pain, shone upon him in the
and roaring wind ; the little spaniel depths of night, woke and wept for him
crouched at my feet whimpers and nes- always. Never could he know the hardy
tles closer; the house is silent,-silent as self-reliance of those whom life casts up
my thoughts,-silent as he is who walked on their own strength and care ; the wis
these rooms once, with a face likest to dom and the love that lived for him
the sky that darkens them now, and lived in him, and he grew to be a boy as
lonelier, lonelier than I, though at his the tropic blossom of aa hot-house grows,
side forever trod a companion. without thought or toil.
This valley of the Doosic is narrow It was not until his age brought him in
and thinly settled. Here and there the contact with others, that there seemed to
mad river, leaping from some wooded be any difference between his nature and
gorge to rest among the hemlock -covered the common race of children. Always,
islands that break its smoother path be- however, some touch of sullenness lurked
tween the soft meadows, is crossed by a in his temperament; and whatever thwart
strong dam ; and a white village, with its ed his will or fancy darkened the light of
church and graveyard, clusters against his clear eyes, and drew a dull pallor over
the hill-side, sweeping upward from the his blooming cheek , till his mother used
huge mills that stand along the shore just to tell him at such times that he stood
below the bridge. Here and there, too, between her and the sunshine.
out of sight of mill or village, a quiet But as he grew older, and shared in
farmer's house, trimly painted, with barns the sports of his companions, a strange
>

and hay -stacks and wood -piles drawn thing came to pass. Beside the shadow
up in goodly array, stands in its old that follows us all in the light, another,
orchard, and offers the front of aa fortress like that, but something deeper, began to
against want and misery. Idle aspect ! go with Roger Pierce , -not falling with
fortress of vain front! there are intangi- the other, a dial-mark to show the light
ble focs that no man may conquer ! In that cast it, but capriciously to right or
such a stronghold was born Roger Pierce, left ; on whomever or whatever was near
the Man with two Shadows. est him at the moment, there that Shadow
Ile was the son of good and upright lay ; and as time crept on, the Shadow
parents. Before he came into their arms, pertinaciously crept with it, till it was
three tiny shapes had lain there, one forever hanging about him , ready to chill
after another, for a few brief weeks, with vague terror, or harden as with a
smiled, moaned , and fallen asleep ,-- to frost, either his fellows or himself.
sleep, forever children , under the daisies One peculiar trait this Shadow had :
and golden -rols. For this reason they the more the restless child thought of
clung to little Roger with passionate ap- his visitant, the deeper it grew , -- shrink
778 Roger Pierce. [ May,
ing in size, but becoming more intensely childhood , and from the loving bright
dark, till it seemed like part of a heavy ness of her tender eyes the Shadow
thunder -cloud, only that no lightning ev- slunk away and left the boy to sleep,
er played across its blank gloom . unhaunted.
The first time that the Shadow ever As day by day went by, in patient
stood before hiin as an actual presence monotony, Roger became daily more
was when , a mere child, he was busied aware of this ghostly attendant. He was
one day in the warm May sunshine mak- not always alone, for he had friends who
ing a garden by the school-house, in a loved him in spite of the Shadow, and
line with other little squares, tracked and grew used to its appearing ;—but he liked
inoulded by childish fingers, and set with to be by himself; for, out of constant
branches of sallow silvered with downy companionship and daily use, this Shadow
catkins, half-opened dandelions, twigs of made for itself a strange affinity with
red -flowered maple, mighty reservoirs of him , and following his daily rambles over
water in sunken clanı-shells, and paths the sharp bills, tracing to their source the
adorned with borders of broken china noisy brooks, or setting snares for the
and glittering bits of glass. Next to wild creatures whose innocent timid eyes
Roger's garden -bed was one that be- peered at their little enemy curiously from
longed to two little boy's who were sworn nook and crevice, he grew to have a
friends, and one of these was busy weav- moody pleasure in the knowledge that
ing a fence for his garden, of yellow nothing else disturbed his path or shared
willow -twirs, which the other cut and his amusements.
sharpened. But a time came when he must mix
Roger looked on with longing eyes. more with the outer world ; for he was
“ Will you help me, Jimmy ? ” said hc. sent away from home to school, and there,
“ I can't,” answered the quiet, timid amid a host of strange faces, he singled
child. out the only one that had a thought of
“ No ! ” shouted Jacob ,—the frank, fear- his past life and home in it, as his special
less voice bringing a tint of color into companion ,—the same quiet boy who had
his comrade's cheek. “ Jim shan't help unconsciously feared the Shadow in their
you, Roger Pierce ! Do you ever help earlier school-days.
anybody ?” So good and gentle was he, that he did
Then the Shadow fell beside Roger, as not feel the cloud of Roger's hateful
he stood with anger and shame swelling Double as every one else did ; and he
in his throat ; it fell across the blue vio- cven won the boy himself to except him
lets he had taken from Jacob to dress his only from a certain suspicion that had
own garden, and they drooped and with lately sprung from his own consciousness
ered ; it crossed the path of shining peb- of his burden,-a suspicion gradually
bles that he had forced the younger chil- growing into a belief that all the world
dren to gather for him , and they grew bad such a Shadow as his own.
dull as common stones ; it reached over Now this was not a strange result of
into Jacob's positive, honest face, and so painful a reality. Seeing, as Roger
darkened it, and Jiinmy, looking up, with Pierce did, in cvery action of others to
fear in his mild eyes, whispered, softly ; - ward himself the dark atmosphere of the
“ Come away ! it's going to rain ;-don't Shadow that was peculiarly his own, he
you see that dark cloud ? ” watched also their mutual actions, and,
Roger started , for the Shadow was throwing from his own obscurity a shade
darkening about himself; and as he over all human deeds, he became possess
moodily returned home, it seemed to ed of the monomania, a practical belief
grow deeper and deeper, till his mother that every mortal man , except it might
drew his head upon her knee, and by be Jimmy Doane, was followed and over
the singing fire told him tales of her own looked by this terrible Second Shadow.
1858.] Roger Pierce. 779

In proportion as the gloom of this little brook that rippled across the mead
black Presence seemed to be lightened ow, and, sitting with her in his arms on
over any one was his esteem for him ; the large smooth stones that divided
but by daily looking so steadily and with those shallow waters, held her carefully
such a will to see only darkness in the while she splashed her tiny dimpled feet
bearts of men, he discovered traces of in the cool ripples, or grasped vainly at
the Shadow even in Jimmy Doane, —and the blue-winged dragon -flies sailing past,
the darkness shut down, like night at on languid, airy pinions, just beyond her
sca , over all the world then . reach . Or he gathered heaps of daisies
Now Roger was miserable enough, for the child to toss into the shining stream ,
knowing well that he could escape, if he and sec the pale star- like blossoms float
would ; for there bad come with his in- smoothly down till some eddy caught
creasing sense of his tyrant, a knowledge them in its sparkling whirl, and, drench
that every time he thought of the Shad- ing the frail, helpless leaves, cast them on
ow it darkened more deeply than ever, the farther shore and went its careless
and that in forgetting it lay his only hope way. Or he told ber, in the afternoons,
of escape from its power. But withal there under some wide apple-tree, wonderful
was a morbid pleasure, the reflex influ- stories of giants and naughty boys, till
ence of habit and indolence, that min- she fell asleep on the sweet hay, where
gled curiously with his longing desire to the curious grasshoppers peered at her
forget his Double, but rendered it im- with round horny eyes, and velvet-bodied
possible to do so without a greater effort spiders scurried across her fair curls with
than he cared to make, or some help six-legged speed, and the robin eyed her
from another hand ; and soon that help from a bough above with wistful glances,
a

seemed to come. till Roger must needs carry her tenderly

When Royer left his home for school, out of their neighborhood to his mother's
he lett in the quaint oak cradle a little gentle carc.
baby -sister, too young to have a place All this guard and guidance Sunny re
in bis thought as a definite existence ; paid with her only treasure, love. She
but after an absence of two years be left her pet kitten in its gayest antics to
came back to find in her a new phase sit on Royer's knee ; she went to sleep at
of life , into which the Shadow could not night nestled against his arm ; every little
vet enter. dainty that she gathered from garden or
The child's name her own childish field was shared with him ; and no pleas
tongue bad softened into “ Sunny,” a ure that did not include Roger could
name that was the natural expression of tempt Sunny to be pleased.
her sunshiny traits, the clear gay voice, For a while the unconscious charm
the tranquil azure eyes, the golden curls, endured ; absorbed in his darling, Roger
the loving looks, that made Sunny the forgot the Shadow, or remembered it
darling of the house , —the stray sunbeam only at rare intervals; and in that brief
that glanced through the doors, flitted time every one secmed to grow better
by the heavy wainscots, and danced up and lovelier. He did not see in this the
the dusky stairways of that old and soli- coloring of his own more kindly thoughts.
tary dwelling. But when, at length, the novelty of
When Royer returned , fresh from the Sunny's presence wore off, her claims
rough companionship of school, Sunny grew tiresome. In the faith of her
seemed to him a creature of some better child's heart, she came as frankly to
race than his own. The Shadow vanished, Roger for help or comfort as she had
for he forgot it in his new devotion to ever done ; and he found his own plans
Sunny. Nothing did he leave undone to for study or pleasure constantly inter
please her wayward fancies. In those rupted by her requests or caresses, till
hot summer -days, he carried her to a the Shadow darkened again beside him ,
780 Roger Pierce. [ May,
and, looking over his shoulder, fell so close till Sunny was four years old, when sud
to Sunny, that his old belief drew its veil denly, one bright day in June, she left the
across his eyes for a moment, and he roses in her garden with broken stems,
started at the sight of what he dreaded, but ungathered, and, tottering into the
a Shadow haunting Sunny. house, fell across the threshold, flushed
Then ,—though this first dread passed and sleepy,—as they who lifted her saw
away,--slowly, but creeping on with un- at once , in the first stage of a fever.
failing certainty, the Shadow returned. This unexpected blow once more
It fell like a brooding storm over the severed Roger from his Shadow. He
fireside of home;he fancied aa like shadow watched his little sister with a heart full
following his mother's steps, darkening of anxious regret, yet so fully wrapt in
his baby-sister's smile ; and as if in re- her wants and danger, that the gloomy
venge for so long an absence, the Shadow Shadow, which looked afar off at bis self
forced itself upon him more strenuously accusations, dared not once intrude.
than ever, till poor Roger Pierce was At length that day of crisis came, the
like a bruised and beaten child ,—too sore pause of fever and delirium , desired, yet
to have peace or rest, too sensitive to dreaded, by every trembling, fearful heart
bear any remedy for his ailment, and that hung over the child's pillow. If she
too petulant to receive or expect sym- slept, the physician said, her fate hung on
pathy from any other and more gentle the waking ; life or death would seal her
nature than his own. when sleep resigned its claim. It was
It was long before the Shadow made early morning when this sentence was
itself felt by Sunny. She never saw it as given ; in an hour's time the fever had
others did. If its chill passed over her subsided, the flush passed from Sunny's
warm rosy face, she stole up softly to her cheek, and she slept, watched breathless
brother, and, with aa look of pure childish ly by Roger and his mother. The cur
love, put her hand in bis, and said softly, tains of the room were half drawn to give
“ Poor Roger ! ” or, with a keener sense the little creature air, and there rusticd
of the Presence, forbore to touch him, lightly through them a low south wind,
but played off her kitten's merriest tricks bearing the delicate perfume of blossoms,
before him, or rolled her tiny hoop with and the lulling murmur of bees singing
shouts of laughter across the old house- at their sweet toil.
dog as he slept on the grass, looking Roger was weary with watching ; the
vainly for the smile Roger had always chiming sounds of Summer, the low tick
given to her baby plays before. ing of the old clock on the stairs, and
So by degrees she went back to her the utter quiet within, soothed him to
own pleasures, full of tender thought for slumber ; his head bent forward and
every living thing, and a loving con- rested on the bedside; he fell asleep,
sciousness of their wants and ways. Her and in his sleep he dreamed .
lisping voice chattered brook -like to birds Over Sunny's pillow ( for in this dream
and bees; her lip curled grievously over he secmed to himself waking and watch
the broken wing of a painted moth, or ing ) hè saw a hovering spirit, the incar
the struggles of a drowning fly ; in Na- nate shape of Light, gazing at the sleep
ture's company she played as with an ing child with ineffable tenderness; but
infant erer divine ; and no darkness as- its keen eyes caught the aspect of Roger's
sailed the never-weary child . Shadow ; the pure lineaments glowed
But Roger grew daily closer to his with something more divinely awful than
Shadow , and gave himself up to its do anger, and with levelled lance it assailed
minion , till his mother saw the bondage, that evil Presence and bore it to the
and tried, mourning, every art and de- ground ; but the Shadow slipped aside
vice to win him away from the evil from the spear, and cowered into distance ;
spirit, but tried in vain. So they lived the angelic face saddened, and, stooping
1838. ] Roger Pierce. 781

downward , folded Sunny in its arms as ceased to remember. The Shadow had
if to bear her away . reassumed its power, and reigned.
Roger woke with his own vain attempt Still through its obscurity he kept one
to grasp and detain the child. The setting gleam of light,-- an admiration undimin
sun streamed in at the window , and his ished for those who seemed to have no
mother stood at his side, brought by some such attendance; but daily the number
inarticulate sound from Sunny's lips. of these grew less.
She sent the boy to call his father, and At length, after the studies of his youth
when they came in together, the child's were over, and he had returned to his
wide blue eyes were open, full of super- old home for life, there came over the
natural calm ; her parched lips parted settled and brooding darkness of his soul
with a faint sinile ; and the loose golden a warm ray of dawn. In some way, as
curls pushed off her forehead, where the naturally as one meets a fresh wind full
blue veins crept, like vivid stains of violet, of vernal odor and life, yet never marks
under the clear skin . the moment of its first caress, so nat
“ Dear mother !” she said, raising her urally, so unmarkedly, he renewed a
arms slowly, to be lifted on the pillow ; but childish acquaintance with Violet Chan
the low, hoarse voice had lost its music . ning, a dweller in the same quict val
Then she turned to her father with ley with himself, though for long years
that strange bright smile, and again to the fine threads of circumstance had
Roger, uttering faintly, – parted them .
“ Stand away , Roger; Sunny wants Not a stone, and the frail green moss
the light.” that clings to it, are more essentially dif
They drew all the curtain opposite her ferent than were Roger Pierce and Violet
bed away, and, as she stretched her hands Channing. Without aa trace of the Shad
eagerly toward the window, the last rays ow in herself, Violet disbelieved its exist
of sunshine glowed on her pale illumina- ence in others. She had heard a rumor
ted face, till it was even as an angel's, of Roger's phantom, but thought it some
and Roger caught a sudden gleam of strange delusion, or want of perception,
wings across the air ; but a cold pain in those who told her,-being rather soft
struck him as he gazed, for Sunny fell ened toward him with pity that he should
backward on her pillow. She had gone be so little understood .
with the sunshine. In the first days of their acquaintance,
It seemed now for a time as if the it seemed as if the light of the girl's face
phantasm that haunted Roger Pierce would have dispelled forever the dark
were banished at last. His moody re- ness of her companion's Shadow , it was so
serve disappeared ; he addressed himself mild and quiet a shining , —not the mere
with quiet, constant effort to console his outer lustre of beauty, but the deep in
mother,—to aid his father ,—to fill, so far forming expression of that Spirit which
as he could, the vacant place; and his bad companioned Sunny beavenward.
heart longed with an incessant thirst for With Violet, soothed by the timid
the bright Spirit that hovered in his sweetness of her manner, aroused by her
dream over Sunny ;-he seemed almost sudden flashes of mirth and vivid enthu
to have begun a natural and healthy siasm , Roger secmed to forget bis hateful
life. companion, or remembered it only to be
But year after year passed away, and consoled by her tender eyes that beamed
the light of Sunny's influence faded with with pity and affection.
her fading memory . Green turf grew Month after month this intimacy went
over her short grave , and the long slant on , brightening daily in Roger's mind
shadow of its headstone no longer lay on the ideal picture of his new friend, but
a foot-worn track. Roger's pilgrimages creating in her only a deeper sympathy
to that spot were over ; his heart bad and a more devout compassion for his
 782 Roger Pierce. [May,
wretched and oppressed life. But as beside her growing Shadow, felt it with
years instead of months went by, the sole unmingled pain. Vainly did the Spirit
influence no longer rested with the girl, of Light within her counsel her to perse
drawing Roger Pierce upward, as she vere, looking only at the end she would
longed and strove to do, into her own achieve ; subtler and more penetrative
sunshine. Their mutual relation had to her untuned ear were the words of
only lightened his darkness in part, while the fiend at her sicle.
it had drawn over her the faint twilight One day she had broodled long and
of a Shadow like his own. But as the drearily on the carelessness and coldness
chief characteristic of this uncarthly of her dear, her disregardful friend, and
Thing was that it grew by notice, as some in her worn and weary soul revolved
strange Eastern plants live on air, it whatever sweetness of the past had now
throve but slowly near to Violet Chan- fled, and what pangs of love repulsed
ning, whose thoughts were bent on curing and devotion scorned lay before her in
the heart-evil of Roger Pierce, and were the miserable future ; and as she held her
so absorbed in that patient care that they
throbbing head upon her hands, wasted
had little chance to turn upon herself; with fiery pulses, it seemed to her as if
though, when patience almost failed, and,
the Shadow , inclining to her ear, whis
weary with fruitless labor and unan- pered , almost audibly ,
swered yearning, her heart sunk, she “Think what you have given this man !
was conscious of a vagne influence that - your hope and peace ; the breath of
made the sunbeams fall coldly , and the your life and the beatings of your heart.
songs of Summer mournful. All your soul is lavished on him , and see
Hour after hour she lavished all the how he repays you !”
treasure she knew, and much that she The weak and disheartened girl shiv
knew not consciously, to beguile the dark- ered ; the time was past when she could
ness from Roger's brow ; or recalled again have despiseıl the voice of this dread
and again her own deeds and words, to companion, when the Shadow dared not
review them with strict judgment, lest have spoken thus; and with bitter tears
they might have set provocation in his swelling into her eyes she and the Shadow
path ; till at length her loving thonghts walked forth together to a haunt on the
grew restless and painful, her face mountain -side where she had been used
paled, her frame wasted away, and to meet Roger.
over her deep melancholy eyes the It was a bare rock, just below the sum
Shadow hung like a black tempest re- mit of a peak crowned with a few old
flected in some clear lake. cedars, from whose laborious growth of
Roger was not blind to this change ; dall, dark foliage long streamers of gray
he did not see who had cast the first veil moss waved in the wind. There were
of darkness over the pure light that had scattered crags about their roots, against
shone so frecly for him ; and while he whose lichen -covered sides the autumn
silently regretted what he deemed the sun shone fruitlessly ; and from the leaf
desecration of the spotless image he had less forests in the deep valley beneath
loved, nothing whispered that it was his rose a whispering sound, as if they shud
own Shadow broodling above the true dered , and were stirred by some forebodl
heart that had toiled so faithfully and ing horror.
long for his enlightening . Violet made her way to this hcight as
The most painful result of all to Violet eagerly as her lessened strength and
was the new coldness of Roger's manner panting heart allowed ; but as she lifted
to her. Shallowed as he was, he did not her eyes from the narrow path she had
perceive this change in himself ; but Vio- tracked upward, they rested on the last
let, in the silence of night, or in the soli- face she wished to meet, the gloomy vis
tary hours she spent in wood and field age of Roger Pierce. The girl hesitated,
1858.] Roger Pierce. 783

and would have drawn back, but Roger with whom no such Presence can cope,
bade her come near. in whom no darkness nor shadow may
“ There is no need of your going, abide.”
Violet,” said he; and she crouched quietly She turned to leave him with these
on the rock at his feet, silently, but with words, but cast back a look of such love
fixed eyes, regarding the double nature and tender pity, that she seemed to Roger
before her, the Man and his Shadow. the very Spirit that had borne Sunny
Still upward from the valley crept that away.
low shiver of drcad ; the pale sun shed Bewildered and pained to the heart,
its listless light on the gray rocks and he groped his way homeward, and night
dlusky cedars; the silent unexpectant lapsed into morning, and returned and
earth seemed to have paused ; all things went again more than once, cre sleep re
were wrapt in vague awe and dim ap- turned to his eyes.
prehension ; some inexpressible fatality Violet kept no vigils; she wept herself
seemed to oppress life and breath. asleep as a child against its mother's
A sudden impulse of escape, desperate bosom , and loving cyes guarded that
in its strength, possessed Violet ; perhaps childlike rest. But Roger's waking was
to name that Thing that clung so close- haunted with remorse and fearful expec
ly to Roger might shake its power , - tation ; and as day's crept by, and Memory,
7

and with a trembling, vibrating voice she like one who fastens the galley-slave to
spoke : his oar, still pressed on his thoughts the
" Roger,-- you are thinking of the constant patience, toil, and affection of
Shadow ? " Violet Channing, he felt how truly she
He did not move, nor at once speak ; had spoken of him, and from his soul ab
no new expression stirred his dark face; horred the Shadow of his life.
at length he answered, in a voice that Ilere he vanishes. Whether with suc
seemed to come from some lips far away, cessful conflict he fought with the evil
in an unechoing distance : and prevailed, and showed himself a
“ The Shadow ?-Yes. I see it in all man ,-- or whether the Thing renewed
faces. It lies on the valley yonder ; iu its dominion, and he drew to himself
the air ; on crery mortal brow and lip it another nature , not for the good power
gathers deeper yet. Violet, you, too, of its pure contact, but for the further
share the Shadow ! ” . increase of that darkness, and the blind
Slowly, as if his words froze her, Vio ing of another soul, is never yet to be
let rose and turned toward him ; a light known.
shone from her eyes that melted their Of Violet Channing he saw no more ;
dark depths into the radiance of high with her his sole carthly redemption had
noon ; and she spoke with a thrilled, yet fied ; she went her way, free hencefor
unfaltering tone : ward from the Shadow , and guarded in
“ Yes, I share it, it is true. I feel and the arms of the shining Spirit.
see the gloom ; but if the Shadow haunts The wind yet howls and dashes with
me, Roger Pierce, ask your own heart out; the rain, rushing in gusts on roof and
who cast it there ! When we were first casement, keeps no time nor tune ; the
friends, I knew nothing of that darkness. firc is dead in the ashes ; the red rose,
I tried with all purity and compassion to in the lessening light, turns gray ;-but far
draw you upward into light; and for re- away to the south the cloud begins to
ward, you have wrapped your own black- scatter ; faint amber steals along the crest
ness round me, and hate your own doing. of the distant hills ; after all evils, hope
My work is over,-is in vain ! It remains remains,—even for a Man with two
only that I free myself from this Shadow , Shadows. Let us, perhaps his kindred
and leave you to the mercy of a Power after the spirit, not despair.
784 Amours de l'oyage. [May,

AMOURS DE VOYAGE .

( Concluded .)
IV .

EASTWARD, or Northward, or West ? I wander, and ask as I wander,

Wcary, yet eager and sure , Where shall I come to my love ?
Whitherward hasten to scek ber ? Ye daughters of Italy, tell me,
Graceful and tender and dark, is she consorting with you ?
Thou that out -climbest the torrent, that tendest thy goats to the summit,
Call to me, child of the Alp, has she been seen on the heights ?
Italy, farewell I bid thee ! for, whither she leads me, I follow .
Farewell the vineyard ! for I, where I but guess ber, must go.
Weariness welcome, and labor, wherever it be, if at last it
Bring me in mountain or plain into the sight of my love.

I. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE, — from Florence.

Gone from Florence ; indeed ; and that is truly provoking ;
Gone to Milan, it seems; then I go also to Milan.
Five days now departed ; but they can travel but slowly ;
I quicker far ; and I know, as it happens, the house they will go to.

Why, what else should I do ? Stay here and look at the pictures,
Statues, and churches ? Alack, I am sick of the statues and pictures !
No, to Bologna, Parma, Piacenza, Lodi, and Milan ,
Off go we to-night,—and the Venus go to the Devil !

II. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE, - from Bellaggio.

Gone to Como, they said ; and I have posted to Como.
There was a letter left, but the cameriere had lost it.
Could it have been for me ? They came, however, to Como,
And from Como went by the boat, —perhaps to the Splügen ,
Or to the Stelvio, say, and the Tyrol; also it might be
By Porlezza across to Lugano, and so to the Simplon
Possibly, or the St. Gothard ,-or possibly, too, to Baveno,
Orta, Turin, and elsewhere. Indeed, I am greatly bewildered.

III. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE,from - Bellaggio.

I have been up the Splügen, and on the Stelvio also :
Neither of these can I find they have followed ; in no one inn, and
This would be odd, have they written their names. I have been to Porlezza.
There they have not been seen, and therefore not at Lugano.
What shall I do ? Go on through the Tyrol, Switzerland, Deutschland,
Seeking, an inverse Saul, a kingdom , to find only asses ?
There is аa tide, at least in the love affairs of mortals,
Which, when taken at flood, leads on to the happiest fortune,
Leads to the marriage-morn and the orange- flowers and the altar,
1858.] Amours de Voyage. 785

And the long lawful line of crowned joys to crowned joys succeeding :
Ab, it has ebbed with me ! Ye gods, and when it was flowing,
Pitiful fool that I was, to stand fiddle-faddling in that way !

IV . - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE, - from Bellaggio.

I HAVE returned and found their names in the book at Como.
Certain it is I was right, and yet I am also in error.
Added in feminine hand, I read, By the boat to Bellaggio.
So to Bellaggio again, with the words of her writing, to aid me.
Yet at Bellaggio I find no trace , no sort of remembrance .
So I am here, and wait, and know every hour will remove them .

V. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE, - from Bellaggio.

-

I HAVE but one chance left - and that is, going to Florence .
But it is cruel to turn. The mountains seem to demand me ,
Peak and valley from far to beckon and motion me onward .
Somewhere amid their folds she passes whom fain I would follow ;
Somewhere among those heights she haply calls me to seek her.
Ah, could I hear her call ! could I catch the glimpse of her raiment !
Turn, however, I must, though it seem I turn to desert ber ;
For the sense of the thing is simply to hurry to Florence,
Where the certainty yet may be learnt, I suppose, from the Ropers

VI. — Mary TREVELLYN, from Lucerne, to Miss ROPER, at Florence.

Dear Miss Roren,-By this you are safely away, we are hoping,
Many a league from Rome; ere long we trust we shall see you.
How have you travelled ? I wonder ;—was Mr. Claude your companion ?
As for ourselves, we went froin Como straight to Lugano ;
So by the Mount St. Gothard ;-
-we meant to go by Porlezza,
Taking the steamer, and stopping, as you had advised, at Bellaggio,
Two or three days or more; but this was suddenly altered,
After we left the hotel, on the very way to the steamer.
So we have seen , I fear, not one of the lakes in perfection.
Well , he is not come ; and now, I suppose, he will not come.
What will you think , meantime ?—and yet I must really confess it ;
What will you say ? I wrote him a note. We left in a hurry ,
Went from Milan to Como three days before we expected.
But I thought, if he came all the way to Milan, he really
Ought not to be disappointed ; and so I wrote three lines to
Say I had heard he was coming, desirous of joining our party ;
If so , then I said , we had started for Como, and meant to
Cross the St. Gotharl, and stay, we believed, at Lucerne, for the summer .
Was it wrong ? and why, if it was, has it failed to bring him ?
Did he not think it worth while to come to Milan ? He knew ( you
Told him) the house we should go to. Or may it, perhaps, have miscarried ?
Any way , now, I repent, and am heartily vexed that I wrote it

VOL. I. 50
786 Amours de Voyage. [ May,
There is a home on the shore of the Alpine sea, that upswelling
High up the mountain -sides spreads in the hollow between ;
Wilderness, mountain, and snow from the land of the olive conceal it ;
Under Pilatus's hill low by its river it lies :
Italy, utter one word, and the olive and vine will allure not,
Wilderness, forest, and snow will not the passage impede ;
Italy, unto thy cities receding, the clue to recover,
Hither, recovered the clue, shall not the traveller haste ?

V.

There is a city, upbuilt on the quays of the turbulent Arno,

Under Fiesole's heights , -thither are we to return ?
There is a city that fringes the curve of the inflowing waters,
Under the perilous hill fringes the beautiful bay,–
Parthenope do they call thee ? —the Siren, Neapolis, seated
Under Vesevus's hill, -thither are we to proceed ?
Sicily, Greece, will invite, and the Orient;
-or are we to turn to
England, which may after all be for its children the best ?

I.-MARY TREVELLYN , at Lucerne, to Miss ROPER , at Florence.

So you are really free, and living in quiet at Florence ;
That is delightful news ;—you travelled slowly and safely ;
Mr. Claude got you out ; took rooms at Florence before you ;
Wrote from Milan to say so ; had left directly for Milan,
Hoping to find us soon ;—if he could, he would , you are certain. -
Dear Miss Roper, your letter has made me exceedingly happy.
You are quite sure, you say, he asked you about our intentions ;
You had not heard of Lucerne as yet, but told him of Como.
Well, perhaps he will come ;-however, I will not expect it.
Though you say you are sure,—if he can, he will, you are certain.
O my dear, many thanks from your ever affectionate Mary.

II. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Florence.
Action will furnish belief, —but will that belief be the true one ?
This is the point, you know. However, it doesn't much matter
What one wants, I suppose, is to predetermine the action,
So as to make it entail, not a chance -belief, but the true one.
Out of the question, you say, if a thing isn't wrong, we may do it.
Ah ! but this ocrong, you see ;—but I do not know that it matters.
Eustace, the Ropers are gone, and no one can tell me about them.
Pisa.
Pisa, they say they think ; and so I follow to Pisa,
Hither and thither inquiring. I weary of making inquiries;
I am ashamed, I declare, of asking people about it
Who are your friends ? You said you had friends who would certainly know
them .
1858. ] Amours de Voyage. 787

Florence .
But it is idle, moping, and thinking, and trying to fix her
Image more and more in, to write the old perfect inscription
Over and over again upon every page of remembrance.
I have settled to stay at Florence to wait for your answer.
Who are your friends ? Write quickly and tell me. I wait for your answer.

III. —MARY TREVELLYN TO Miss ROPER , at Lucca Baths.

You are at Lucca Baths, you tell me, to stay for the summer ;
Florence was quite too hot; you can't move further at present.
Will you not come, do you think, before the summer is over
Mr. C. got you out with very considerable trouble ;
And he was useful and kind, and seemed so happy to serve you ;
Didn't stay with you long, but talked very openly to you ;
Made you alınost his confessor, without appearing to know it,
What about ?-and you say you didn't need his confessions.
O my dear Miss Roper, I dare not trust what you tell me !
Will he come, do you think ? I am really so sorry for him !
They didn't give him my letter at Milan, I feel pretty certain .
You had told hiin Bellaggio. We didn't go to Bellaggio ;
So he would miss our track, and perhaps never come to Lugano,
Where we were written in full, T. Lucerne, across the St. Gothard .
But he could write to you ;-you would tell him where you were going.

IV. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Let me, then, bear to forget her. I will not cling to her falsely ;
Nothing factitious or forced shall impair the old happy relation.
I will let myself go ,forget, not try to remember ;
I will walk on my way, accept the chances that meet me,
Freely encounter the world , imbibe these alien airs, and
Never ask if new feelings and thoughts are of her or of others.
Is she not changing, herself? -the old image would only delude me.
I will be bold, too , and change, —if it must be. Yet if in all things,
Yet if I do but aspire evermore to the Absolute only,
I shall be doing, I think, somehow , what she will be doing ;
I shall be thine, O my child , some way, though I know not in what way.
Let me submit to forget her ; I must ; I already forget her.

V. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE .
UTTERLY vain is, alas, this attempt at the Absolute,-wholly !
I, who believed not in her, because I would fain believe nothing,
Have to believe as I may, with a wilful, unmeaning acceptance.
I, who refused to enfasten the roots of my floating existence
In the rich earth, cling now to the hard, naked rock that is left me.
Ah ! she was worthy, Eustace, -and that, indeed, is my comfort ,
Worthy a nobler heart than aa fool such as I could have given.
788 Amours de Voyage. [ May,
V1. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
Yes, it relieves me to write, though I do not send ; and the chance that
Takes may destroy my fragments. But as men pray, without asking
Whether One really exist to hear or do anything for them ,
Simply impelled by the need of the moment to turn to a Being
In a conception of whom there is freedom from all limitation ,
So in your image I turn to an ens rationis of friendship.
Even to write in your name I know not to whom nor in what wise.

VII. — CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

THERE was a time, methought it was but lately departed,
When, if a thing was denied me, I felt I was bound to attempt it ;
Choice alone should takc, and choice alone should surrender.
There was a time, indeed, when I had not retired thus early,
Languidly thus, from pursuit of a purpose I once had adopted.
But it is over, all that ! I have slunk from the perilous field in
Whose wild struggle of forces the prizes of life are contested.
It is over, all that! I am a coward, and know it.
Courage in me could be only factitious, unnatural, useless.

VIII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.

Rome is fallen, I hear, the gallant Medici taken ,
Noble Manara slain, and Garibaldi has lost il Moro ;
Rome is fallen ; and fallen, or falling, heroical Venice.
I, meanwhile, for the loss of a single small chit of a girl, sit
Moping and mourning here , —for her, and myself much smaller.
Whither depart the souls of the brave that die in the battle,
Die in the lost, lost fight, for the cause that perishes with them ?
Are they upborne from the field on the slumberous pinions of angels
Unto a far-off home, where the weary rest from their labor,
>

And the deep wounds are healed, and the bitter and burning moisture
Wiped from the generous cycs ? or do they linger, unhappy,
Pining, and haunting the grave of their by-gone hope and endeavor ?
All declamation, alas ! though I talk , II care not for Rome, nor
Italy ; feebly and faintly, and but with the lips, can lament the
Wreck of the Lombard youth and the victory of the oppressor.
Whither depart the brave ? —God knows ; I certainly do not.

IX . - MARY TREVELLYN TO Miss ROPER.

He has not come as yet ; and now I must not expect it.
You have written, you say, to friends at Florence, to see him,
If be perhaps should return ;-but that is surely unlikely.
Has he not written to you ? -he did not know your direction.
Oh, how strange never once to have told him where you were going !
Yet if he only wrote to Florence, that would have reached you.
If what you say he said was true, why has he not donc so ?
Is he gone back to Rome, do you think, to his Vatican marbles ?
O my dear Miss Roper, forgive me ! do not be angry !
You have written to Florence ; -your friends would certainly find him .
1858. ] Amours de l'oyage. 789

Might you not write to him ?_but yet it is so little likely !

I shall expect nothing more. — Ever yours, your affectionate Mary.

X. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE.
-

I cannot stay at Florence, not even to wait for a letter.

Galleries only oppress me. Remembrance of hope I had cherished
( Almost more than as hope, when I passed through Florence the first time)
Lies like a sword in my soul. I am more a coward than ever,
Chicken-hearted, past thought. The caffès and waiters distress me.
All is unkind, and, alas, I am ready for any one's kindness.
Oh, I knew it of old, and knew it, I thought, to perfection,
If there is any one thing in the world to preclude all kindness,
It is the need of it,-it is this sad self-defeating dependence.
Why is this, Eustace ? Myself, were I stronger, I think I could tell you.
But it is odd when it comes. So plumb I the deeps of depression,
Daily in deeper, and find no support, no will, no purpose.
All my old strengths are gone. And yet I shall have to do something.
Ah, the key of our life, that passes all wards, opens all locks,
Is not I will, but I must. I must,—I must , -- and I do it.

XI. — CLAUDE TO Eustace.

At the last moment I have your letter, for which I was waiting.
I have taken my place, and see no good in inquiries.
Do nothing more, good Eustace, I pray you. It only will vex me.
Take no measures. Indeed, should we meet, I could not be certain ;
All might be changed, you know . Or perhaps there was nothing to be changed.
It is aa curious history, this ; and yet I foresaw it ;
I could have told it before. The Fates, it is clear, are against us ;
For it is certain enough that I met with the people you mention ;
They were at Florence the day I returned there, and spoke to me even ;
Staid a week, saw me often ; departed, and whither I know not.
Great is Fate, and is best. I believe in Providence, partly.
What is ordained is right, and all that happens is ordered .
Ab, no, that isn't it. But yet I retain my conclusion :
I will go where I am led, and will not dictate to the chanccs.
Do nothing more, I beg. If you love me, forbear interfering.

XII. - CLAUDE TO Eustace.

SHALL we come out of it all, some day, as one does from аa tunnel ?
1

Will it be all at once , without our doing or asking,

We shall behold clear day, the trees and meadows about us,
And the faces of friends, and the eyes we loved looking at us ?
Who knows ? Who can say ? It will not do to suppose it.

XIII. - CLAUDE TO EUSTACE , —from Rome.

Rome will not suit me, Eustace ; the priests and soldiers possess it ;
Priests and soldiers ;-and, ah ! which is worst, the priest or the soldier ?
Politics farewell, however ! For what could I do ? with inquiring,
790 Amours de Voyage. [ May,
Talking, collating the journals, go fever my brain about things o'er
Which I can have no control. No, happen whatever may happen,
Time, I suppose, will subsist ; the earth will revolve on its axis ;
People will travel; the stranger will wander as now in the city;
Rome will be here, and the Pope the custode of Vatican marbles.
I have no heart, however, for any marble or fresco ;
I have essayed it in vain ; 'tis vain as yet to essay it :
But I may haply resume some day my studies in this kind.
Not as the Scripture says, is, I think, the fact. Ere our death -day,
Faith, I think, does pass, and Love ; but Knowledge abideth .
Let us seek Knowledge ;—the rest must come and go as it happens.
Knowledge is hard to seek, and harder yet to adhere to.
Knowledge is painful often ; and yet when we know, we are happy.
Seek it, and leave mere Faith and Love to come with the chances.
As for Hope, -to-morrow I hope to be starting for Naples.
Rome will not do, I see; for many very good reasons.
Eastward, then , I suppose, with the coming of winter, to Egypt.

XIV. - MARY TREVELLYN To Miss ROPER .

You have heard nothing; of course, I know you can have heard nothing.
Ah, well, more than once I have broken my purpose, and sometimes,
Only too often, have looked for the little lake-steamer to bring him.
But it is only fancy, I do not really expect it.
Oh, and you see I know so exactly how he would take it :
Finding the chances prevail against meeting again, he would banish
Forthwith every thought of the poor little possible hope, which
I myself could not help, perhaps, thinking only too much of;
He would resign himself, and go. I see it exactly.
So I also submit, although in a different manner.
Can you not really come ? We go very shortly to England.

So go forth to the world, to the good report and the evil !

Go, little book ! thy tale, is it not evil and good ?
Go, and if strangers revile, pass quietly by without answer.
Go, and if curious friends ask of thy rearing and age,
Say, I am flitting about many years from brain unto brain of
Feeble and restless youths born to inglorious days ;
But, so finish the word, I was writ in a Roman chamber,
When from Janiculan heights thundered the cannon of France.
1858.] Intellectual Character. 791

INTELLECTUAL CHARACTER .

The desire, the duty, the necessity of sad wisdom of experience, must pass
the age in which we live is education, or from the vague delights of generous im
that culture which developes, enlarges, pulses to the assured joy of manly princi
and enriches cach individual intelligence, ples. The moment he comes in contact
according to the mcasure of its capacity, with the stern and stubborn realities
by familiarizing it with the facts and which frown on his entrance into prac
laws of nature and human life. But, in tical life, he will find that power is the
this rage for information, we too often soul of knowledge, and character the
overlook the mental constitution of the condition of intelligence. He will dis
being we would inform ,-detaching the cover that intellectual success depends
apprehensive from the active powers, primarily on qualities which are not
weakening character by overloading strictly intellectual, but personal and con
memory, and reaping a harvest of imbe- stitutional. The test of success is influ
ciles after we may have flattered our- ence, – that is, the power of shaping
selves we had sown a crop of geniuses. events by informing, guiding, animating,
No person can be called educated, until controlling other minds. Whether this
he has organized his knowledge into influence be exerted directly in the world
faculty, and wields it as a weapon . We of practical affairs, or indirectly in the
purpose, therefore, to invite the attention world of ideas, its fundamental condition
of our readers to some remarks on Intel- is still force of individual being, and the
lectual Character, the last and highest amount of influence is the measure of
result of intellectual education, and the the degree of force, just as an effect
indispensable condition of intellectual measures a cause . The characteristic of
success. intellect is insight,-insight into things
It is evident, that, when a young man and their relations ; but then this insight
leaves his school or college to take his is intense or languid, clear or confused ,
place in the world, it is indispensable comprehensive or narrow , exactly in
that he be something as well as know proportion to the weight and power of
something; and it will require but little the individual who sees and combines. It
experience to demonstrate to him that is not so much the intellect that makes the
what he really knows is little more than man, as the man the intellect ; in every
what he really is, and that his progress in act of earnest thinking, the reach of the
intellectual manhood is not more deter- thought depends on the pressure of the
mined by the information he retains, will; and we would therefore emphasize
than by that portion which, by a benign and enforce, as the primitive requirement
provision of Providence, he is enabled to of intellectual success, that discipline of
forget. Youth, to be sure, is his, -youth, the individual which developes dim ten
in virtue of which he is free of the uni- dencies into positive sentiments, senti
verse, -youth, with its clastic vigor, its ments into ideas, and ideas into abilities,
far-darting hopes, its generous impa- -that discipline by which intellect is
tience of prudent meanness, its grand penetrated through and through with the
qualities of manhood, and endowed with
denial of instituted falsehood , its beau-
tiful contempt of accredited baseness ,- arms as well as eyes. This is Intellectual
but youth which must now concentrate Character.
its wayward energies, which must dis- Now it should be thundered in the ears
course with facts and grapple with men, of every young man who has passed
and through strife and struggle, and the through that course of instruction ironi
792 Intellectual Character [May,
cally styled education, “ What do you viduality ; for the word is commonly
intend to be, and what do you intend to made to signify some peculiarity or ec
do ? Do you purpose to play at living, centricity, some unreasonable twist, of
or do you purpose to live ?-to be a mind or disposition. An individual,
memory , a word -cistern, a feeble prater then, in the sense in which we use the
on illustrious themes, one of the world's term , is a causative spiritual force, whose
thousand chatterers, or a will, a power, root and being are in cternity, but who
a man ? ” No varnish and veneer of lives, grows, and builds up his nature
scholarship, no command of the tricks of in time. All the objects of sense and
logic and rhetoric, can ever make you a thought, all facts and ideas, all things,
positive force in the world. Look around are external to his essential personality.
you in the community of educated men, But he has bound up in his personal be
and see how many, who started on their ing sympathies and capacities which ally
career with minds as bright and eager him with external objects, and enable
and hearts as bopeful as yours, have been him to transmute their inner spirit and
mysteriously arrested in their growth ,- substance into his own personal life.
have lost all the kindling sentiments The process of his growth, therefore, is
which glorified their youthful studies, and a development of power from within to
dwindled into complacent echoes of sur- assimilate objects from without, the pow
rounding mediocrity ,—have begun, in- er increasing with every vital exercise
deed, to die on the very threshold of of it. The result of this assimilation is
manhood, and stand in society as tombs character. Character is the spiritual
rather than temples of immortal souls. body of the person, and represents the
See, too, the wide disconnection between individualization of vital experience, the
knowledge and life ;-hcaps of informa- conversion of unconscious things into self
tion piled upon little heads ; everybody conscious men. Sir Thomas Browne, in
speaking ,-few who have earned the right quaint reference to the building up of
to speak ; maxims enough to regenerate our physical frame through the food we
a universe ,–a woful lack of great hearts, eat, declares that we have all been on
in which reason, right, and truth, regal our own trenchers ; and so , on the same
and militant, are fortified and encamped ! principle, our spiritual faculties can be
Now this disposition to skulk the austere analyzed into impersonal facts and ideas,
requirements of intellectual growth in an whose life and substance we have con
indolent surrender of the mind's power verted into personal reason , imagination ,
of self -direction must be overcome at and passion. The fundamental charac
the outset, or, in spite of your grand gen- teristic of man is spiritual hunger ; the
eralities, you will be at the mercy of universe of thought and matter is spirit
every bullying lie, and strike your colors ual food . He feeds on Nature ; he feeds
to every mean truism , and shape your on ideas ; he feeds, through art, science,
life in accordance with every low motive, literature, and history, on the acts and
which the strength of genuine wickedness thoughts of other minds; and could we
or genuine stupidity can bring to bear take the mightiest intellect that ever
upon you. There is no escape from awed and controlled the world, and un
slavery, or the mere pretence of free- ravel his powers, and return their con
dom , but in radical individual power ; stituent particles to the multitudinous.
and all solid intellectual culture is simply objects whence they were derived, the
the right development of individuality last probe of our analysis, after we bad
into its true intellectual form . stripped him of all his faculties, would
And first, at the risk of being consid- touch that unquenchable fiery atom of
ered metaphysical,—though we fear no personality which had organized round
metaphysician would indorse the charge, itself such a colossal body of mind, and
-let us define what we mean by indi- which, in its simple naked energy, would
1858.] Intellectual Character . 793

still be capable of rehabilitating itself in paragraph with “ Daniel Webster, his

the powers and passions of which it had mark ." The characteristic of all his
been shorn . great speeches is, that the statements,
It results from this doctrine of the arguments, and images have what we
mind's growth, that success in all the should call a positive being of their own,
departments of life over which intellect ---stand out as plainly to the sight as a
holds dominion depends, not merely on ledge of rocks or chain of hills,-and,
an outside knowledge of the facts and like the works of Nature herself, need
laws connected with each department, no other justification of their right to
but on the assimilation of that knowl- exist than the fact of their existence .
edge into instinctive intelligence and We may detest their object, but we can
active power. Take the good farmer, not deny their solidity of organization.
and you will find that ideas in him are This power of giving a substantial body,
endowed with will, and can work . Take an undeniable external shape and form ,
the good general, and you will find that to his thoughts and perceptions, so that
the principles of his profession are in- the toiling mind does not so much seem
wrought into the substance of his nature, to pass from one sentence to another, un
and act with the velocity of instincts. folding its leading idea, as to make each
Take the good judge, and in him juris- sentence a solid work in a Torres Vedras
prudence seems impersonated, and his line of fortifications,—this prodigious con
opinions are authorities. Take the good structive faculty, wielded with the strength
merchant, and you will find that com- of a huge Samson -like artificer in the
merce , in its facts and laws, seems in material of mind, and welding together
him embodied, and that his sagacity the substances it might not be able to fuse,
appears identical with the objects on puzzled all opponents who understood it
which it is exercised. Take the great not, and baffled the efforts of all who un
statesman, take Webster, and note how, derstood it well. He rarely took a po
by thoroughly individualizing his com- sition on any political question , which did
prehensive experience, he seems to car- not draw down upon him a whole bat
ry a nation in his brain ; how, in all that talion of adversaries, with ingenious ar
relates to the matter in hand, he has in ray of argument and infinite noise of
him as faculty what is out of him in fact; declamation ; but after the smoke and
how between the man and the thing dust and clamor of the combat were
there occurs that subtile freemasonry of over, the speech loomed up, perfect and
recognition which we call the mind's whole, a permanent thing in history or
intuitive glance ; and how conflicting literature, while the loud thunders of op
principles and statements, mixed and position had too often died away into
mingling in fierce confusion and with low mutterings, audible only to the ad
deafening war-cries, fall into order and venturous antiquary who gropes in the
relation, and move in the direction of “ still air ” of stale “ Congressional De
one inexorable controlling idea, the mo- bates.” The rhetoric of sentences how
ment they are grasped by an intellect ever melodious, of aphorisms however
wbich is in the secret of their combina- pointed, of abstractions however true,
tion : cannot stand in the storm of affairs
against this true rhetoric, in which
“ Confusion hears his voice, and the wild up- thought is consubstantiated with things.
roar stills . "
Now in men of this stamp, who have
Mark, too, how, in the productions of so organized knowledge into faculty that
his mind, the presence and pressure of they have attained the power of giving
his whole nature, in each intellectual act, Thought the character of Fact, we no
keeps his opinions on the level of his tice no distinction between power of in
character, and stamps every weighty tellect and power of will, but an indisso
794 Intellectual Character. [May,
luble union and fusion of force and when the whole nature of the thinker
insight. Facts and laws are so blended is alive and aglow with an inspiration
with their personal being, that we can kindled long before in remote recesses
hardly decide whether it is thought that of consciousness from one spark of im
wills or will that thinks. Their actions mortal fire, and unweariedly burning,
display the intensest intelligence ; their burning, burning, until it lit up the
thoughts come from them clothed in the whole inert mass of surrounding mind
thews and sinews of energetic volition. in flame.
Their force, being proportioned to their To show , indeed, how little there is of
intelligence, never issues in that wild the extempore, the hap -hazard, the hit-or
and anarchical impulse, or that tough, miss, in the character of creative thought,
obstinate, narrow wilfulness, which many and how completely the gladdest inspi
take to be the characteristic of individu- ration is earned, let us glance at the psy
alized power. They may, in fact, exhib- chological history of one of those impe
it no striking individual traits which rial ideas which measure the power, test
stand impertinently out, and yet from the quality, and convey the life , of the
this very cause be all the more potent minds that conceive them. The prog
and influential individualities. Indeed, ress of such an idea is from film to
in the highest efforts of ecstatic action, form . It has its origin in an atmosphere
when the person is mightiest, and amazes of feeling; for the first vital movement
us by the giant leaps of his intuition, the of the mind is emotional, and is ex
mere peculiarities of his personality are pressed in a dim tendency, a feeble
unseen and unfelt. This is the case feeling after the object, or the class
with Homer, Shakspeare, and Goethe, of objects, related to the peculiar con
in poetry,—with Plato and Bacon , in stitution and latent affinities of its indi
philosophy,—with Newton , in science, vidual being. This tendency gradually
with Cæsar, in war . Sucb men doubt- condenses and deepens into a sentiment,
less had peculiarities and caprices, but pervading the man with a love of those
they were “ burnt and purged away objects,-by a sweet compulsion ordering
by the fire of their genius, when its ac- his energies in their direction,-and by
tion was intensest. Then their whole slow degrees investing them, through a
natures were melted down into pure process of imagination, with the attribute
force and insight, and the impression of beauty, and, through a process of
they leave upon the mind is the impres- reason , investing the purpose with which
sion of marvellous force and weight and he pursues them with the attribute of
reach of thought intelligence. The object dilates as the
If it be objected, that these high exam- mind assimilates and the nature moves,
ples are fitted to provoke despair rather so that every step in this advance from
than stimulate emulation , the answer is, mere emotion to vivid insight is a build
that they contain , exemplify, and empha- ing up of the faculties which each on
size the principles, and flash subtile hints ward movement evokes and exercises, –
of the processes, of all mental growth sentiment, imagination, reason increas
and production. How comes it that ing their power and enlarging their
these men's thoughts radiate from them scope with each impetus that speeds
as acts, endowed not only with an illu- them on to their bright and beckoning
minating, but a penetrating and animat- goal. Then, when the individual has
ing power ? The answer to this is a reached his full mental stature, and
statement of the genesis, not merely of come in direct contact with the object,
genius, but of every form of intellectual then, only then, does he “ pluck out the
manhood ; for such thoughts do not leap, heart of its mystery ” in one of those
à la Minerva, full-grown from the head, lightning -like acts of thought which we
but are struck off in those moments call combination, invention, discovery.
1858.] Intellectual Character. 795

There is no luck, no accident, in all this. all; and clients will be cheated, and pa
Nature does not capriciously scatter her tients will be poisoned, and parishion
secrets as golden gifts to lazy pets and ers will be — we dare not say what!
luxurious darlings, but imposes tasks though all the colleges in the universe
when she presents opportunities, and up- had showered on them their diplomas.
lifts him whom she would inform . The “To be weak is miserable " : Milton wrest
apple that she drops at the feet of New- ed that secret from the Devil himself !
ton is but a coy invitation to follow her but what shall we say of those whose
to the stars. weakness has subsided from misery into
Now this living process of developing complacency, and who feel all the moral
manhood and building up mind, while the might of their being bourly rust and de
person is on the trail of a definite object cay, with the most amiable indifference
of intelligence, is in continual danger of and lazy content with dissolution ?
being devitalized into a formal process Now this weakness is a mental and
of mere acquisition, which, though it may moral sickness, pointing the way to men
make great memories of students, will be tal and moral death. It has its source in
sure to leave them little men. Their a violation of that law which makes the
thoughts will be the attachés, not the off- health of the mind depend on its activity
spring, of their minds. They will have a being directed to an object. When di
bowing acquaintance with many truths, rected on itself, it becomes fitful and
without being admitted to the familiarity moody; and moodiness generates mor
of embracing or shaking hands with one. bidness, and morbidness misanthropy,
If they have native stamina of animal and misanthropy self-contempt, and self
constitution, they may become men of contempt begins the work of self-dissolu
passions and opinions, but they never tion . Why, every sensible man will de
will become men of sentiments and ideas ; spise himself, if he concentrates his atten
they may know the truth as it is about a tion on that important personage ! The
thing, and support it with acrid and joy and confidence of activity come from
wrangling dogmatism , but they never its being fixed and fastened on things
will know the truth as it is in the thing, external to itself. “The human heart,"
and support it with faith and insight. says Luther,—and we can apply the re
And the moment they come into collision mark as well to the human mind, — " is
with a really live man , they will find like aa millstone in a mill ; when you put
their souls inwardly wither, and their wheat under it, it turns, and grinds, and
boasted acquisitions fall away, before one bruises the wheat into flour ; if you put
glance of his irradiating intelligence and no wheat in, it still grinds on, but then it
one stroke of his smiting will. If, on the is itself it grinds, and slowly wears away."
contrary, they are guided by good or Now activity for an object, which is an
great sentiments, which are the souls of activity that constantly increases the
good or great ideas, these sentiments will power of acting, and keeps the mind
be sure to organize all the capacity there glad, fresh, vigorous, and young, has
is in them into positive intellectual char- three deadly enemies,--intellectual in
acter ; but let them once divorce love dolence, intellectual conceit, and intel
from their occupations in life, and they lectual fear. We will say a few words
will find that labor will degenerate into on the operation of this triad of malig
drudgery, and drudgery will weaken the nants.
power to labor, and weakness, as a last Montaigne relates, that, while once
resort, will intrench itself in pretence and walking in the fields, he was accosted by a
deception. If they are in the learned bergar of Herculean frame, who solicited
professions, they will become tricksters in alms. “ Are you not ashamed to beg ? "
law , quacks in medicine, formalists in said the philosopher, with a frown , — " you
divinity, though regular practitioners in who are so palpably able to work ? " "Ob,
796 Intellectual Character. [May,
Sir," was the sturdy knave's drawling re- into the mind the delusive belief that it
joinder, “ if you only knew how lazy I can attain the objects of activity without
am ! ” Herein is the whole philosophy its exercise. Under this illusion, men ex
of idleness ; and we are afraid that many pect to grow wise, as men who gamble
a student of good natural capacity slips in stocks expect to grow rich, by chance,
and slides from thought into reverie, and and not by work. They invest in medi
from reverie into apathy, and from apa- ocrity in the confident hope that it will
thy into incurable indisposition to think, go many hundred per cent. above par ;
with as much sweet unconsciousness and so shocking has been the inflation of
of degradation as Montaigne's mendi- the intellectual currency of late years,
cant evinced ; and at last hides from that this speculation of indolence some
himself the fact of his imbecility of ac- times partially succeeds. But a revul
tion, somewhat as Sir James Herring sion comes,—and then brass has to make
accounted for the fact that he could not a break -neck descent to reach its proper
rise early in the morning : he could, be level below gold. There are others
said, make up his mind to it, but could whom indolence deludes by some trash
not make up his body. about " fits ” of inspiration, for whose
“ He who eats with the Devil,” says the Ileaven-sent spasms they are humbly to
wait. There is, it seems, a lucky thought
proverb, “ has need of a long spoon " ;
and he who domesticates this pleasant somewhere in the abyss of possibility ,
vice of indolence, and allows it to nestle which is somehow , at some time, to
near his will, has need of a long head. step out of essence into substance , and
Ordinary minds may well be watchful take up its abode in their capacious
of its insidious approaches when great minds, – dutifully kept unoccupied in
ones have mourned over its enfeebling order that the expected celestial visitor
effects; and the subtle indolence that may not be crowded for room . Chance
stole over the powers of Mackintosh , is to make them king, and chance to
and gradually impaired the productive- crown them, without their stir ! There
ness even of Goethe, may well scare in- are others still, who, while sloth is sap
tellects of less natural grasp and imagi- ping the primitive energy of their na
nations of less instinctive creativeness . tures, expect to scale the fortresses of
Every step, indeed, of the student's prog- knowledge by leaps and not by ladders,
ress calls for energy and effort, and ev- and who count on success in such peril
ery step is beset by some soft temptation ous gymnastics, not by the discipline of
to abandon the task of developing pow- the athlete, but by the dissipation of the
er for the delight of following impulse. idler. Indolence, indeed, is never at a
The appetites , for example, instead of loss for a smooth lie or delicious sophism
being bitted, and bridled, and trained to justify inaction , and, in our day, has
into passions, and sent through the in- rationalized it into a philosophy of the
tellect to quicken, sharpen, and intensify mind, and idealized it into a school of
its activity, are allowed to take their way poetry, and organized it into aa “ hospital
unmolested to their own objects of sense, of incapables. ” It promises you the still
and drag the mind down to their own ecstasy of a divine repose, while it lures
sensual level. Sentiment decays, the vis you surely down into the vacant dul
ion fades, faith in principles departs, the ness of inglorious sloth. It provides a
moment that appetite rules. On the primrose path to stagnant pools, to an
closing doors of that “ sensual stye, ” as Arcadia of thistles, and a Paradise of
over the gate of Dante's hell , be it writ- mud .
ten : “Let those who enter here leave But in a mind of any primitive power,
hope behind . ” intellectual indolence is sure to gencrate
But a more refined operation of this intellectual conceit, -- a.little Jack Horner,
pestilent indolence is its way of infusing that ensconces itself in lazy heads, and,
1858.] Intellectual Character. 797

while it dwarfs every power to the level they impart no vital power and convey
of its own littleness, keeps vociferating, no real information , give seeming en
" What a great man am I ! ” It is the largement to thought, and represent a
cssential vice of this glib imp of the mind, seeming opulence of knowledge. The
even when it infests large intellects, that it deluded student, who picks up these
ideas in masquerade at the rag-fairs and
puts Nature in the possessive case, -labels
all its inventions and discoveries “ My old -clothes shops of philosophy, thinks
truth ,” — and moves about the realms of he has the key to all secrets and the
art, science, and letters in a constant fear solvent of all problems, when he really
of having its pockets picked. Think of has no experimental knowledge of any
a man's having vouchsafed to him one of thing, and dwindles all the more for
those awful glimpses into the mysteries every juiceless, unnutritious abstraction
of creation which should be received he devours. Though famished for the
with a shudder of prayerful joy, and tak- lack of a morsel of the true mental food
ing the gracious boon with a smirk of all- of facts and ideas, he still swaggeringly
satisfied conceit ! One page in what despises all relative information in his
Shakspeare calls “ Nature's infinite book ambition to clutch at absolute truth, and
of secrecy” fics a moment open to his accordingly goes directly to ultimates by
cager gaze, and he hears the rustling of the short cuts of cheap generalities.
the myriad leaves as they close and clasp, Why, to be sure, should he, who can,
only to make his spirit more abject, his Napoleon -like, march straight on to the
vanity more ravenous, his hatred of ri- interior capital, submit, Marlborough -like,
vals more rancorous and mean. That to the drudgery of besieging the frontier
grand unselfish love of truth, and joy in
2 fortresses ? Why should he, who can
its discovery, by whomsoever made, which throw a girdle of generalization round
characterize the true seeker and seer of the universe in less than forty minutes,
science and creative art, alone can keep stoop to master details ? And this easy
the mind alive and alert, alone can make and sprightly amplitude of understand
the possession of truth a means of elevat- ing, which consists not in including, but
ing and purifying the man . in excluding all relative facts and prin
But if this conceit, in powerful na- ciples, he calls comprehensiveness ; the
tures, tends to belittle character, and eat mental decrepitude it occasions he digni
into and consume the very faculties fies with the appellation of repose ; and,
whose successful exercise creates it, its on the strength of comprehensiveness
slyly insinuated venom works swifter and and repose, is of course qualified to take
deadlier on youth and inexperience. his seat beside Shakspeare, and chat
The ordinary forms of conceit, it is true, cosily with Bacon, and wink knowingly
cannot well flourish in any assemblage at Gocthe, and startle Leibnitz with a
.

of young men, whose plain interest it is slap on the shoulder, -- the true Red
to undeceive all self -deception and quell Republican sign of liberty in manners,
every insurrection of individual vanity, equality in power, and fraternity in
and who soon understand the art of burn- ideas ! These men , to be sure, have a
ing the nonsense out of an offending way of saying things which he has not
brother by caustic ridicule and slow- yet caught; but then their wide-reaching
roasting sarcasm . But there is danger thoughts are his as well as theirs. Imi
of mutual deception, springing from a tating the condescension of some con
common belief in a false, but attractive temporary philosophers of the Infinite,
principle of culture. The mischief of he graciously accepts Christianity and
intellectual conceit in our day consists in patronizes the idea of Deity, thongh he
its arresting mental growth at the start gives you to understand that he could
by stuffing the mind with the husks of easily pitch a generalization outside of
pretentious generalities, which, while both . And thus, mistaking his slab
798 Intellectual Character. [ May,
sidedness for many -sidedness, and forget- in the application, and which are calcu
ting that there is no insight without force lated not so much to make good men
to back it, -bedizened in conceit and as goodies,-persons rejoicing in an equal
magnificent in littleness,—he is thrown mediocrity of morals and mind, and per
on society, walking in a vain show of tinent examples of the necessity of per
knowledge, and doomed to be upset and sonal force to convert moral maxims into
trampled on by the first brawny concrete moral might. The truth would seem to
Fact he stumbles against. A true metb- be, that half the crimes and sufferings
od of culture makes drudgery beautiful which history records and observation
by presenting a vision of the object tofurnishes are directly traceable to want
which it leads ;-beware of the conceit of thought rather than to bad intention ;
that dispenses with it ! How much bet- and in regard to the other half, which
ter it is to delve for a little solid knowl- may be referred to the remorseless self
edge, and be sure of that, than to be a ishness of unsanctified intelligence, has
proper target for such a sarcasm as a that selfishness ever had more valuable
great statesman once shot at a glib advo- allies and tools than the mental torpor
cate, who was saying nothing with great that cannot think and the conscientious
fluency and at great length ! “ Who, " stupidity that will not ? Moral laws,
he asked, “ is this self-sufficient, all -suffi- indeed, are intellectual facts, to be in
cient, insufficient man ? " vestigated as well as obeyed ; and it is
Idleness and Conceit, however, are not not aa blind or blear-eyed conscience, but
more opposed to that out-springing, rev- a conscience blended with intelligence
erential activity which makes the person and consolidated with character, that can
forget himself in devotion to his objects, both see and act.
than Fear. A bold heart in a sound But curtly dismissing the fallacy, that
head, that is the condition of energet- the moral and spiritual faculties are
ic thinking, of the thought that thinks likely to find a sound basis in a cowed
round things and into things and through and craven reason , we come to a form
things; but fear freezes activity at its of fear that practically paralyzes indo
inmost fountains. “ There is nothing," pendent thought more than any other,
says Montaigne, “ that I fear so much as while it is incompatible with manliness
fear. ” Indeed, an educated man, who and self -respect. This fear is compound
creeps along with an apologetic air, ed of self -distrust and that mode of ran
cringing to this name and ducking to ity which cowers beneath the invective
that opinion, and hoping that it is not of men whose applause it neither courts
too presumptuous in him to beg the nor values. If you examine critically
right to exist,—why, it is a spectacle the two raging parties of conservatism
piteous to gods and hateful to men ! and radicalisin, you will find that a good
Yet think of the many knots of monitory ly number of their partisans are men
truisms in which activity is likely to be who have not chosen their position, but
caught and entangled at the outset ,- have been bullied into it, - men who
knots which a brave purpose will not see clearly enough that both parties are
waste time to untie, but instantly cuts. based on principles almost equally true
First, there is the nonsense of students in themselves, almost equally false by
killing themselves by over-study,1 --some being detached from their mutual rela
few instances of which, not traceable to tions. But then each party keeps its
over-eating, have shielded the short- professors of intimidation and stainers of
comings of aa million idlers. Next, there character, whose business it is to deprive
is the fear that the intellect may be de- men of the luxury of large thinking,
veloped at the expense of the moral pa- and to drive all neutrals into their re
ture , one of those truths in the abstract spective ranks. The missiles hurled from
which are made to do the office of lies one side are disorganizer, infidel, dis
1858.] Intellectual Character. 799

unionist, despiser of law , and other be a statesman or reformer requires a

trumpery of that sort ; from the other courage that dares defy dictation from
side, the no less effective ones of mur- any quarter, and a mind which has come
derer, dumb dog, traitor to humanity, in direct contact with the great inspiring
and other trumpery of that sort ; and ideas of country and humanity. All the
the young and sensitive student finds it rest is spite, and spleen, and cant, and
difficult to keep the poise of his nature conceit, and words.
amid the cross - fire of this logic of fury It is plain, of course, that every man
and rhetoric of execration , and too often of large and living thought will naturally
ends in joining one party from fear, or sympathize with those great social move
the other from the fear of being thought ments , informing and reforming, which
afraid . The probability is, that the least are the glory of the age ; but it must
danger to his mental independence will always be remembered that the grand
proceed from any apprehension he may and generous sentiments that underlie
entertain of what are irreverently styled those movements demand in their fervid
the “ old fogies " ; for if Young America disciple a corresponding grandeur and
goes on at its present headlong rate , generosity of soul. There is no reason
there is little doubt that the old fogy will why his philanthropy should be malignant
have to descend from his eminence of because other men's conservatism may
place, become an object of pathos rather be stupid ; and the vulgar insensibility to
than terror, and be compelled to make the rights of the oppressed , and the vul
the inquiring appeal to his brisk hunters, gar scorn of the claims of the wretched ,
so often made to himself in vain , “ Am I which men calling themselves respectable
not a man and a brother ? ” But with and educated may oppose to his own
whatever association, political or moral, warmer feelings and nobler principles,
the thinker may connect himself, let him should be met, not with that invective
go in,—and not be dragged in or scared which may be as vulgar as the narrow
in. He certainly can do no good to ness it denounces, nor always with that
himself, his country , or his race, by being indignation which is righteous as well as
the slave and echo of the heads of a wrathful, but with that awful contempt
clique . Besides, as most organizations with which Magnanimity shames mean
are constituted on the principles of a ness, simply by the irony of her lofty ex
sort of literary socialism , and each mem- ample and the sarcasm of her terrible
ber lives and trades on a common capital silence.
of phrases, there is danger that these In these remarks, which we trust our
phrases may decline from signs into sub- readers have at least been kind enough
stitutes of thought , and both intellect and to consider worthy of an effort of pa
character evaporate in words. Thus, a tience, we have attempted to connect all
man may be a Union man and aa Nation- genuine intellectual success with manli
al man , or an Anti-Slavery man and a ness of character ; have endeavored to
Temperance man and aa Woman's-Rights' show that force of individual being is its
man, and still be very little of a man . primary condition ; that this force is aug
There is, indeed , no more ludicrous sight mented and enriched, or weakened and
than to see Mediocrity, perched on one impoverished , according as it is or is not
of these resounding adjectives, strut and directed to appropriate objects ; that in
bluster, and give itself braggadocio airs, dolence, conceit, and fear present con
and dictate to all quiet men its max- tinual checks to this going out of the
ims of patriotism or morality, and all mind into glad and invigorating commun
the while be but a living illustration ion with facts and laws ; and that as a
through what grandeurs of opinion essen- man is not a mere bundle of faculties,
tial meanness and poverty of souł will but a vital person , whose unity pervades,
peer and peep and be disclosed . To vivifies, and creates all the varieties of
800 Intellectual Character . [May,
his manifestation, the same vices which edge, which will not let it sleep , —such a
enfeeble and deprave character tend to spirit soon learns that the soul of joy is
enfeeble and deprave intellect. But per- bid in the austere form of Duty, and that
haps we have not sufficiently indicated the intellect becomes brighter, keener,
a diseased state of consciousness, from clearer, more buoyant, and more efficient,
which most intellectual men have suf- as it feels the freshening vigor infused
fered, many have died, and all should be by her monitions and menaces, and the
warned ,—the disease, namely, of mental celestial calm imparted by her soul-satis
disgust, the sign and the result of mental fying smile. In all the professions and
debility. Mental disgust “sicklies o'er ” occupations over which Intellect holds
all the objects of thought, extinguishes dominion , the student will find that there
faith in exertion , communicates a dull is do grace of character without its cor
wretchedness to indolence in the very responding grace of mind. He will find
process by which it makes activity impos- that virtue is an aid to insight; that good
sible, and drags into its own slough of and sweet affections will bear a harvest
despond, and discolors with its own mor- of pure and high thoughts; that patience
vid reveries, the objects which it should will make the intellect persistent in plans
ardently seek and genially assimilate. It which benevolence will make beneficent
sees things neither as they are, nor as in results ; that the austerities of con
they are glorified and transfigured by science will dictate precision to state
hope and health and faith ; but, in the ments and exactness to arguments; that
apathy of that idling introspection which the same moral sentiments and moral
betrays a genius for misery, it pronounces power which regulate the conduct of life
effort to be vanity, and despairingly dis- will illumine the path and stimulate the
inisses knowledge as delusion. “ De purpose of those daring spirits eager to
spair ,” says Donne, 64" is the damp of bell; add to the discoveries of truth and the
rejoicing is the serenity of heaven.” crcations of art. And he will also find
Now contrast this mental disgust, which that this purifying interaction of spiritual
proceeds from mental debility, with the and mental forces will give the mind an
sunny and soul-lifting exhilaration ra- abiding foundation of joy for its starts of
diated from mental vigor,-a vigor which rapture and flights of ecstasy ;-a joy, in
comes from the mind's secret conscious- whose light and warınth languor and dis
ness that it is in contact with moral and content and depression and despair will
spiritual verities, and is partaking of the be charmed away ;-a joy, which will
rapture of their immortal life. A spirit make the mind large, generous, hopeful,
earnest, hopeful, energetic, inquisitive, aspiring, in order to make life beautiful
making its mistakes minister to wisdom, and sweet ;,a joy, in the words of an
and converting the obstacles it vanquishes old divine, “ which will put on a more
into power, -a spirit inspired by a love glorious garment above, and be joy su
of the excellency and beauty of knowl- perinvested in glory !"
1858.] Loo Loo. 801

LOO LOO.

A FEW SCENES FROM A TRUE HISTORY.

SCENE I.
of which had grown into the semblance
of a Gothic arch, by the interlacing of two
ALFRED NOBLE had grown up to trees, one with glossy evergreen leaves,
manhood among the rocks and bills of the other yellow with the tints of autumn .
a New England village. A year spent Vines had clambered to the top, and
in Mobile, employed in the duties of a bung in light festoons from the branches.
clerk , had not accustomed him to the The foliage, fluttering in a gentle breeze,
dull routine of commercial life. He long- caused successive ripples of sun -flecks,
ed for the sound of brooks and the fresh which chased each other over trunks
air of the hills. It was, therefore, with and boughs, and joined in wayward
great pleasure that he received from his dance with the shadows on the ground.
employer a message to be conveyed to a Arrested by this unusual combination
gentleman who lived in the pleasantest of light and shade, color and form , the
suburb of the city. It was one of those young man stood still for a moment to
bright autumnal days when the earth gaze upon it. He was thinking to him
seems to rejoice consciously in the light self that nothing could add to the perfec
that gives her beauty. tion of its beauty, when suddenly there
Leaving behind him the business quar- came dancing under the arch a figure
ter of the town, he passed through pleas- that seemed like the fairy of those woods,
ant streets bordered with trees, and al- a spirit of the mosses and the vines.
most immediately found himself amid She was a child, apparently five or six
scenes clothed with all the freshness of years old, with large brown eyes, and a
the country. Handsome mansions here profusion of dark hair. Her gypsy bat,
and there dotted the landscape, with ornamented with scarlet ribbons and a
pretty little parks, enclosing orange-trees garland of red holly-berries, had fallen
and magnolias, surrounded with hedges back on her shoulders, and her cheeks
of holly, in whose foliage numerous little were flushed with exercise. A pretty
foraging birds were busy in the sunshine. little white dog was with her, leaping
The young man looked at these dwellings up eagerly for a cluster of holly -berries
with an exile's longing at his heart. He which she playfully shook above his head .
imagined groups of parents and children, She whirled swiftly round and round the
brothers and sisters, under those shelter- frisking animal, her long red ribbons ily
ing roofs, all strangers to him, an orphan, ing onthe breeze, and then she paused,
alone in the world. The pensiveness of all aglow , swaying herself back and forth,
7

his mood gradually gave place to more like a flower on its stem . A flock of doves,
cheerful thoughts. Visions of prosperous as if attracted toward her, came swooping
oss and a happy home rose before down from the sky, revolving in grace
him, as be walked briskly toward the ful curves above her head , their white
hills south of the city. The intervals breasts glistening in the sunshine. The
between the houses increased in length, aërial movements of the child were so full
and he soon found himself in a little for- of life and joy, she was so in harmony
est of pines. Emerging from this, he with the golden day, the waving vines,
came suddenly in sight of an elegant and the circling doves, that the whole
white villa, with colonnaded portico and scene seemed like an allegro movement
spacious verandas. He approached it by in music, and she a charming little melo
a path through a grove, the termination dy floating through it all.
VOL . I. 51
802 Loo Loo. [ May ,
Alfred stood like one enchanted. He tle girl, who would not be caught. Per
feared to speak or move, lest the fairy haps she was your daughter, Sir ? ”
should vanish from mortal presence. So “ She is my daugliter,” rejoined the
the child and the dog, equally uncon- gentleman. “ A pretty little witch, is she
scious of a witness, continued their grace not ? Will you walk in, Sir ? ”
ful gambols for several minutes. An Alfred thanked him , and said that he
older man might have inwardly moral- was in search of a Mr. Duncan, whose
ized on the folly of the animal, aping residence was in that neighborhood.
humanity in thus earnestly striving after “ I am Mr. Duncan ," replied the patri
what would yield no nourishment when cian . Jack, go and fetch the gentle
66

obtained . But Alfred was too young man's hat, and bring cigars.”
and too happy to moralize. The present A negro obeyed his orders, and, after
moment was .,all-sufficient for him , and smoking awhile on the veranda, the two
stood still there in its fulness, unconnect- gentlemen walked round the grounds.
ed with past or future. This might have Once when they approached the house,
lasted long, had not the child been at- they heard the pattering of little feet, and
tracted by the dove-shadows, and, look- Mr. Duncan called out, with tones of
ing up to watch the flight of the birds, fondness,
her eyes encountered the young man. A " Come here, Loo Loo ! Come, darling,
whole bcart full of sunshine was in the and see the gentleman who has been run
smile with which he greeted her. But, ning after you ! "
with a startled look , she turned quickly But the shy little fairy ran all the fast
and ran away ; and the dog, still full of er, and Alfred saw nothing but the long
frolic, went bounding by her side. As red ribbons of her gypsy hat, as they
Alfred tried to pursue them, a bough floated behind her on the wind.
knocked off his hat. Without stopping Declining a polite invitation to dine,
to regain it, he sprang over a holly- he walked back to the city. The impres
hedge, and came in view of the veran- sion on his mind had been so vivid, that,
da of a house, just in time to see the as he walked, there rose ever before him
fairy and her dog disappear behind a a vision of that graceful arch with waving
trellis covered with the evergreen foliage vines, the undulating flight of the silver
of the Cherokee rose. Conscious of the breasted doves, and the airy motions of
impropriety of pursuing her farther, he that beautiful child. How would his in
paused to take breath. As he passed his terest in the scene have deepened, could
hand through his hair, tossed into masses some sibyl have foretold to him how close
by running against the wind, he heard a ly the Fates had interwoven the destinies
voice from the veranda exclaim , of himself and that lovely little one !
“ Whither so fast, Loo Loo ? Come When he entered the counting-room ,
here, Loo Loo ! ” he found his employer in close conversa
Glancing upward, he saw a patrician- tion with Mr. Grossman , a wealthy cotton
looking gentleman, in a handsome morn- broker. This man was but little more
ing-gown, of Oriental fashion, and slip than thirty years of age, but the pre
pers richly embroidered . He was reclin- dominance of animal propensities was
ing on a lounge, with wreaths of smoke stamped upon his countenance with more
floating before him ; but seeing the stran- distinctness than is usual with sensualists
ger, he rose , and taking the amber-tubed of twice his age. The oil of a thousand
cigar from his mouth, he said, half laugh- hams seemedoozing through his pimpled
ing,– cheeks ; his small gray eyes were set in
“ You seem to be in hot haste, Sir. his head like the eyes of a pig ; his mouth
Pray, what have you been hunting ? ” had the expression of a satyr ; and his
Alfred also laughed , as he replied,- nose seemed perpetually sniffing the sa
“ I have been chasing a charming lit- vory prophecy of food. When the clerk
1858.] Loo Loo. 803

had delivered his message, he slapped him cussed . North and South seemed to
familiarly on the shoulder, and said, - have entered into a tacit agreement to
“ So you've been out to Duncan's, have ignore the topic completely. Alfred's
you ? Pretty nest there at Pine Grove, experience was like that of most New
and they say he's got a rare bird in it ; Englanders in his situation. He was at
but he keeps her so close, that I could first annoyed and pained by many of the
never catch sight of her. Perhaps you peculiarities of Southern society, and
got aa peep , eh ? " then became gradually accustomed to
“ I saw a very beautiful child of Mr. them . But his natural sense of justice
Duncan's,” replied Alfred, “but I did was very strong ; and this, added to the
not see his wife . ” influence ofearly education, and strength
“ That's very likely," rejoined Gross- ened by scenes of petty despotism which
man ; " because he never had any wife.” he was frequently compelled to witness,
“ He said the little girl was his daugh- led him to resolve that he would never
ter, and I naturally inferred that he had hold a slave. The colored people in his
.
a wife,” replied Alfred. employ considered him their friend, be
“ That don't follow of course , my gos- cause he was always kind and generous
ling ," said the cotton -broker. “ You're to them. He supposed that comprised
green , young man ! You're green ! I the whole of duty, and further than that
swear, I'd give a good deal to get sight he never reflected upon the subject.
of Duncan's wench. She must be devil- The pretty little picture at Pine Grove,
ish handsome, or he wouldn't keep her so which had made so lively an impression
close.” on his imagination, faded the more rap
Alfred Noble had always felt an in- idly, because unconnected with bis affec
stinctive antipathy to this man, who was tions. But a shadowy semblance of it
often letting fall some remark that jarred always fitted through his memory', when
harshly with his romantic ideas of wom- ever he saw a beautiful child, or obsery
en, — something that seemed to insulted any unusual combination of trees and
the memories of a beloved mother and vines.
sister gone to the spirit-world. But he Four years after his interview with Mr.
had never liked him less than at this mo- Duncan, business called him to the inte
ment ; for the sly wink of his eye, and rior of the State , and for the sake of
the expressive leer that accompanied his healthy exercise he chose to make the
coarse words, were very disagreeable journey on horseback. His route lay
things to be associated with that charm- mostly through a monotonous region of
ing vision of the circling doves and the sandy plain, covered with pines, here and
innocent child . there varied by patches of cleared land,
in which numerous dead trees were pros
SCENE II.
trate , or standing leafless, waiting their
time to fall. Most of the dwellings were
Time passed away, and with it the log-houses, but now and then the white
average share of changing events. Al- villa of some wealthy planter might be
fred Noble became junior partner in the seen gleaming through the evergreens.
counting-house he had entered as clerk, Sometimes the sandy soil was intersected
and not long afterward the elder part- by veins of swamp, through which muddy
ner died. Left thus to rely upon his own water oozed sluggishly, among bushes and
energy and enterprise, the young man dead logs. In these damp places flourish
gradually extended his business, and ed dark cypresses and holly -trees, draped
seemed in a fair way to realize his fa- with gray Spanish moss, twisted around
vorite dream of making a fortune and the boughs, and hanging from them like
returning to the North to marry. The gigantic cobwebs. Now and then , the
subject of Slavery was then seldom dis- sombre scene was lighted up with a bit
 .

804 Loo Loo. [ May,

of brilliant color, when a scarlet grosbeak either side interlaced their boughs over
flitted from branch to branch, or a red- it, and formed a vista, cool, dark , and
headed woodpecker bammered at the solemn as the aisle of some old Gothic
trunk of some old tree, to find where the church. A figure moving upward, by
insects had intrenched themselves. But the side of the little brook, attracted his
nothing pleased the eye of the traveller attention , and he checked his horse to
80 much as the holly -trees, with their inquire whether the people at the nearest
glossy evergreen foliage, red berries, and house would entertain a stranger for the
tufts of verdant mistletoe. He had been night. When the figure approached near
riding all day, when, late in the after er, he saw that it was a slender, barefoot
noon , an uncommonly beautiful holly ap- ed girl, carrying a pail of water. As she
peared to terminate the road at the bend emerged from the dim aisle of trees, a
where it stood . Its boughs were woven gleam of the setting sun shone across ber
in with a cypress on the other side, by face for an instant, and imparted a lu
long tangled fringes of Spanish moss. minous glory to her large brown eyes.
The setting sun shone brightly aslant the Shading them with her hand, she paused
mingled foliage, and lighted up the red timidly before the stranger, and answer
berries, which glimmered through the ed his inquiries. The modulation of her
thin drapery of moss, like the coral or- tones suggested a degree of refinement
naments of a handsome brunette seen which he had not expected to meet in
through her veil of embroidered lace. It that lonely region. He gazed at her so
was unlike the woodland picture he had intently, that her eyes sought the ground,
seen at Pine Grove, but it recalled it to and their long, dark fringes rested on
his memory more freshly than he had blushing cheeks. What was it those eyes
seen it for a long time. He watched recalled ? They tantalized and eluded
the peculiar effects of sunlight, changing his memory. “ My good girl, tell me
as he approached the tree, and the de- what is your name,” he said .
sire grew strong within him to bave the “ Louisa,” she replied, bashfully, and
fairy-like child and the frolicsome dog added, “ I will show you the way to the
make their appearance beneath that house . "
swinging canopy of illuminated moss. “Let me carry the water for you ,"
If his nerves had been in such a state said the kind -hearted traveller. He dis
that forms in the mind could have taken mounted for the purpose, but she resisted
outward shape, he would have realized his importunities, saying that she would
the vision so distinctly painted on his be very angry with her.
imagination . But he was well and “ And who is she ?” he asked. “Is she
strong ; therefore he saw nothing but a your mother ? "
66
blue heron flapping away among the cy Oh, no, indeed ! ” was the hasty re
presses, and a flock of turkey -buzzards ply. “ I am-
m -- I - I live there . "
soaring high above the trees, with easy The disclaimer was sudden and earnest,
and graceful flight. His thoughts, how- as if the question struck on a wounded
ever, continued busy with the picture nerve . Her eyes swam with tears, and
that had been so vividly recalled. He the remainder of her answer was sad and
recollected having heard, some time be- reluctant in its tones. The child was so
fore, of Mr. Duncan's death, and he que delicately formed, so shy and sensitive,
ried within himself what had become of so very beautiful, that she fascinated him
that beautiful child. strongly. He led bis horse into the lane
Musing thus, he rode under the fan- she had entered, and as he walked by her
tastic festoons he had been admiring, and side he continued to observe her with the
saw at his right a long gentle descent, most lively interest. Her motions were
where a small stream of water glided listless and languid, but flexile as a willow .
downward over mossy stones. Trees on They puzzled him , as her eyes had done ;
1858.] Loo Loo. 805

for they seemed to remind him of some- Mr. Noble having stated “ whar ” he
thing he had seen in a half-forgotten was from , was required to tell “whar”
drcam . he was going, whether he owned that “ bit 66

They soon came in sight of the house, of horse- flesh ,” and whether he wanted to
which was built of logs, but larger than sell him . Having answered all these in
most houses of that description ; and two terrogatories in a satisfactory manner, he
or three huts in the rear indicated that ushered into the house.
was
the owner possessed slaves. An open The interior was rude and slovenly,
porch in front was shaded by the project like the exterior. The doors were open
ing roof, and there two dingy, black -nosed ed by wooden latches with leather strings,
dogs were growling and tousling each oth- and sagged so much on their wooden
er. Pigs were rooting the ground, and hinges, that they were usually left open
among them rolled a black baby, envel- to avoid the difficulty of shutting them .
oped in a bundle of dirty rags. The Guns and fishing -tackle were on the
traveller waited while Louisa went into walls, and the seats were wooden bench
the house to inquire whether entertain- es or leather-bottomed chairs. A tall,
ment could be furnished for himself and lank woman , with red hair, and a severe
his horse. It was some time before the aspect, was busy mending a garment
proprietor of the establishment made his When asked if the traveller could be pro
appearance . At last he came slowly saun- vided with supper, she curtly replied
tering round the end of the house, his bat that she “ reckoned so " ; and, without
tipped on one side, with a rowdyish air. further parlance, or salute , went out to
He was accompanied by a large dog, give orders. Immediately afterward, her
which rushed in among the pigs, biting shrill voice was beard calling out, “ You
their ears, and making them race about, gal! put the fixens on the table.”
squealing piteously. Then he seized hold The “ gal," who obeyed the summons,
of the bundle of rags containing the black proved to be the sylph-like child that bad
baby, and began to drag it over the guided the traveller to the house. To
ground, to the no small astonishment of the expression of listlessness and desola
the baby, who added his screech to the tion which he had previously noticed,
cbarivari of the pigs. With loud shouts there was now added a look of bewilder
of laughter, Mr. Jackson cheered on the ment and fear. He thought she might,
rough animal, and was so much enter perhaps, be a step -daughter of Mrs. Jack
tained by the scene, that he seemed son ; but how could so coarse a man as
to have forgotten the traveller entirely. his host be the father of such gentleness
When at last his eye rested upon him, and grace ?
he merely exclaimed, “ That's a hell of a While supper was being prepared, Mr.
dog !” and began to call, “ Staboy ! " again. Jackson entered into conversation with
The negro woman came and snatched up his guest about the usual topics in that
her babe, casting a furtive glance at her region ,—the prices of cotton and “ nig
master, as she did so , and making her gers. " He frankly laid open his own
escape as quickly as possible. Towzer, history and prospects, stating that he
being engaged with the pigs at that mo was “ fetched up ” in Western Tennessee,
ment, allowed her to depart unmolested ; where he owned but two “ niggers." A
and soon came back to his master, wag- rich uncle had died in Alabama, and he
ging bis tail, and looking up, as if ex- had come in for a portion of his wild land
pecting praise for his performances. and “ niggers " ; so he concluded to move
The traveller availed himself of this South and take possession. Mr. Noble
season of quiet to renew his inquiries. courteously sustained his share of the con
Well,” said Mr. Jackson, “ I reckon versation ; but his eyes involuntarily fol
we can accommodate ye. Whar ar ye lowed the interesting child , as she passed
from , stranger ? " in and out to arrange the supper-table.
• 806 Loo Loo. [ May,
“ You seem to fancy Leewizzy,” said tremor at the import of his words, and
Mr. Jackson, shaking the ashes from his partly from fear that she should not place
pipe. the dish of bacon and eggs to please her
“ I have never seen a handsomer child,” mistress, she tipped it in setting it down,
replied Mr. Noble. “ Is she your daugh- so that some of the fat was spilled upon
ter ? " the table- cloth . Mrs. Jackson seized her
“ No, Sir ; she's my nigger," was the and slapped her hard, several times, on
brief response . both sides of her head . The frightened
The young girl reëntered the room at child tried to escape, as soon as she was
that moment, and the statement seemed released from her grasp , but, being or
so incredible, that the traveller eyed her dered to remain and wait upon table, she
with scrutinizing glance, striving in vain stood behind her mistress, carefully sup
to find some trace of colored ancestry. pressing her sobs, though unable to keep
“ Come here, Leewizzy,” said her mas- back the tears that trickled down her
ter . “ What d’ye keep yer eyes on the cheeks. The traveller was bungry ; but
ground for ? You ’a’n't got no occasion this sight was a damper upon his appetite.
to be ashamed o’yer eyes. Hold up yer He was indignant at seeing such a timid
head, now, and look the gentleman in the young creature so roughly handled ; but
face . " he dared not give utterance to his emo
She tried to obey, but native timidity tions, for fear of increasing the persecu
overcame the habit of submission , and, tion to which she was subjected. After
after one shy glance at the stranger, her ward, when his host and hostess were
eyelids lowered, and their long, dark absent from the room , and Louisa was
fringes rested on blushing cheeks. clearing the table, impelled by a feeling
“ I reckon ye don't often see a poottier of pity, which he could not repress, he
piece o'flesh,” said Mr. Jackson. laid his hand gently upon her head, and
While he was speaking, his wife had said, “ Poor child ! "
come in from the kitchen, followed by a It was a simple phrase ; but his kindly
black woman with a dish of sweet po tones produced a mighty effect on that
tatoes and some hot corn -cakes. She suffering little soul. Her pent-up affec
made her presence manifest by giving tions rushed forth like a flood when the
“ Leewizzy " a violent push, with the ex- gates are opened. She threw herself into
clamation, “ What ar ye standing thar his arms, nestled her head upon his breast,
for, yer lazy wench ? Go and help Dinah and sobbed out, “ Oh, I have nobody to
bring in the fixens.” Then turning to love me now ! ” This outburst of feeling
her husband, she said , “You'll make a was so unexpected, that the young man
fool o' that ar gal. It's high time she was felt embarrassed, and knew not what to
sold . She's no account here . " do. His aversion to disagreeable scenes
Mr. Jackson gave a knowing wink at amounted to a weakness ; and he knew,
his guest, and remarked, “ Women -folks moreover, that, if his hostess should be
are ginerally glad enough to have niggers come aware of his sympathy, her victim
to wait on 'em ; but ever sence that gal would fare all the worse for it. Still, it
come into the house, my old woman's was not in his nature to repel the affec
been in a desperate hurry to have me tion that yearned toward him with so
sell her. But such an article don't lose overwhelming an impulse. He placed
nothing by waiting awhile. I've some his hand tenderly on her head, and said ,
thoughts of taking a tramp to Texas one in a soothing voice, “ Be quiet now , my
o'these days ; and I reckon a prime fancy little girl. I hear somebody coming; and
article, like that ar, would bring a fust- you know your mistress expects you to
rate price in New Orleans. " clear the table . "
The subject of his discourse was listen- Mrs. Jackson was in fact approaching,
ing to what he said ; and " partly from and Louisa h, astily resumed her duties.
 1 1858.] Loo Loo . 807 )

Had Mr. Noble been guilty of some cul- “ My mother showed me how to sew
pable action , he could not have felt more some, and how to do some embroidery,"
desirous to escape the observation of his she said, coaxingly. “ I will learn to do
hostess. As soon as she entered, he took it better, and I can earn enough to buy
up his hat hastily, and went out to ascer- something to eat Oh, do buy me, Sir !
tain whether his horse had been duly Do take me with you ! ”
2
cared for. “ I cannot do that,” he replied ; " for I
03
He saw Louisa no more that night. must go another day's journey before I
But as he lay awake, looking at a star return to Mobile. "
that peeped in upon him through an “Do you live in Mobile ? ” she ex
opening in the log wall, he thought of claimed, eagerly. “ My father lived in
her beautiful eyes, when the sun shone Mobile. Once I tried to run away there,
upon them , as she emerged from the but they set the dogs after me. Oh, do
shadows. He wished that his mother and carry me back to Mobile ! ”
sister were living, that they might adopt “ What is your name ?” said he ; " and
the attractive child . Then he remem- in what part of the city did you live ? ”
bered that she was a slave, reserved for “ My name is Louisa Duncan ; and my
the New Orleans market, and that it was father lived at Pine Grove. It was such
not likely his good mother could obtain a beautiful place ! and I was so happy
her, if she were alive and willing to un- there ! Will you take me back to Mo
24 dertake the charge. Sighing, as he had bile ? Will you ? "
often done, to think how many painful Evading the question, he said ,-
things there were which he had no power “ Your name is Louisa, but your father
to remedy, he fell asleep and saw a very called you Loo Loo, didn't be ? ”
small girl dancing with a pail of water, That pet name brought forth a pas
while aa flock of white doves were wheel- sionate outburst of tears. Her voice
ing round her. The two pictures bad choked, and choked again, as she sobbed
mingled on the floating cloud -canvas of out,-
dream -land. “ Nobody has ever called me Loo Loo
He had paid for his entertainment be- since my father died . ”
fore going to bed, and had signified his He soothed her with gentle words, and
intention to resume his journey as soon she, looking up earnestly, as if stirred by
as light dawned . All was silent in the a sudden thought, exclaimed ,
house when he went forth ; and out of “ How did you know my father called
2:1
1 doors nothing was stirring but a dog me Loo Loo ? ”
that roused himself to bark after him , He smiled as he answered , “ Then
and chanticleer perched on a stump to you don't remember a young man who
crow . He was, therefore, surprised to ran after you one day, when you were
find Louisa at the crib where his horse playing with a little white dog at Pine
was feeding. Springing toward him , she Grove ? and how your father called to
exclaimed -
, you, ‘ Come here, Loo Loo , and see the
6

Qui
" Oh, you have come ! Do buy me, gentleman ' ? ”
Sir ! I will be so good ! I will do every- “ I don't remember it,” she replied ;
thing you tell me ! Oh, I am so unhap- " but I remember how my father used to
py ! Do buy me, Sir ! ” laugh at me about it, long afterward .
He patted her on the head, and looked He said I was very young to have gentle
down compassionately into the swimming men running after me.”
eyes that were fixed so imploringly upon " I am that gentleman ,” he said .
his. “ When I first looked at you , I thought I
“ Buy you, my poor child ? ” he re- had seen you before , and now I see
plied. “ I have no house, I have noth- plainly that you are Loo Loo. "
ing for you to do ." That name was associated with so
· 808 Loo Loo. [May ,
many tender memories, that she seemed he wished to see Mr. Jackson on business,
to hear her father's voice once more . and had, therefore, changed his mind
She nestled close to her new friend, and about starting before breakfast.
repeated, in most persuasive tones, “ You The bargain was not soon completed ;
will buy me ? Won't you ? ” for Mr. Jackson had formed large ideas
“ And your mother ? What has be- concerning the price “ Leewizzy ” would
come of her ? ” he asked. bring in the market; and Bill had told
“ She died of yellow fever, two days the story of what he witnessed at the
before my father. I am all alone. No crib, with sundry jocose additions, which
body cares for me. You will buy me, elicited peals of laughter from his master.
won't you ? ” But the orphan had won the young man's
“ But tell me how you came here, my heart by the childlike confidence she had
poor child ," he said . manifested toward him , and conscience
She answered, “ I don't know . After would not allow him to break the solemn
my father died, a great many folks came promise he had given her. After a pro
to the house, and they sold everything. tracted conference, he agreed to pay
They said my father was uncle to Mr. eight hundred dollars, and to come for
Jackson, and that I belonged to him. Louisa the next week.
But Mrs. Jackson won't let me call Mr. The appearance of the sun , after a
Duncan my father. She says, if she ever long, cold storm , never made a greater
hears of my calling him so again, she'll change than the announcement of this
whip me. Do let me be your daughter ! arrangement produced in the counte
You will buy me,-won't you ? " nance and manners of that desolate child .
Overcome by her entreaties, and by The expression of fear vanished, and
the pleading expression of those beautiful listlessness gave place to a springing elas
eyes, he said, “ Well, little teaser, I will ticity of motion. Mr. Noble could ill af
see whether Mr. Jackson will sell you to ford to spare so large a sum for the lux
me. if he will, I will send for you be- ury of benevolence, and he was well
fore long ." aware that the office of protector, which
“ Oh, don't send for me ! ” she exclaim- he had taken upon himself, must neces
ed , moving her hands up and down with sarily prove expensive. But when he
nervous rapidity. “Come yourself, and witnessed her radiant happiness, he could
come soon. They'll carry me to New not regret that he had obeyed the gener
Orleans, if you don't come for me.” ous impulse of his heart. Now, for the
“ Well, well, child, be quiet. If I can first time, she was completely identified
buy you, I will come for you myself. with the vision of that fairy child who
Meanwhile, be a good girl. I won't for- had so captivated his fancy four years
get you .” before. He never forgot the tones of
He stooped down, and sealed the her voice, and the expression of her eyes,
promise with a kiss on her forehead . when she kissed his hand at parting, and
As he raised his head , he became aware said, “ I thank you, Sir, for buying me."
that Bill, the horse-boy, was peeping in
at the door, with a broad grin upon his SCENE III.
black face. He understood the meaning
of that grin, and it seemed like an ugly In аa world like this, it is much easier
imp driving away a troop of fairies. He to plan generous enterprises than to car
was about to speak angrily, but checked ry them into effect. After Mr. Noble
himself with the reflection , “ They will had purchased the child, heknew not
all think so . Black or white, they will how to provide a suitable home for her.
all think so . But what can I do ? I At first, he placed her with his colored
must save this child from the fate that washerwoman . But if she remained in
awaits her.” To Bill be merely said that that situation , though her bodily wants
1858.] Loo Loo 809

would be well cared for, she must neces- love with her, bought her, and remained
sarily lose much of the refinement infused strongly attached to her until the day of
into her being by that early environment her death. It had always been his inten
of elegance, and that atmosphere of love. tion to manumit her, but, from inveterate
He did not enter into any analysis of his habits of procrastination, he deferred it,
motives in wishing her to be so far edu- till the fatal fever attacked them both ;
cated as to be a pleasant companion for and so his child also was left to “ follow
himself. The only question be asked the condition of her mother.” Having
himself was, How he would like to have neglected to make a will, his property
his sister treated, if she had been placed was divided among the sons of sisters
in such unhappy circumstances. He married at a distance from him, and thus
knew very well what construction would the little daughter, whom he had so fondly
be put upon his proceedings, in a society cherished, became the property of Mr.
where handsome girls of such parentage Jackson, who valued her as he would a
were marketable ; and he had so long handsome colt likely to bring a high price
tacitly acquiesced in the customs around in the market. She was too young to
him , that he might easily have viewed understand all the degradation to which
her in that light himself, had she not be she would be subjected, but she had
come invested with a tender and sacred once witnessed an auction of slaves, and
interest from the circumstances in which the idea of being sold filled her with ter
he had first seen her, and the innocent, ror . She had endured six months of
confiding manner in which she had im- corroding homesickness and constant fear,
plored him to supply the place of her when Mr. Noble came to her rescue .
father. She was always presented to his After aa few weeks passed with the col
imagination as Mr. Duncan's beloved ored washerwoman, she was placed with
daughter, never as Mr. Jackson's slave. an elderly French widow, who was glad
He said to himself, “ May God bless me to eke out her small income by taking
according to my dealings with this orphan ! motherly care of her, and giving her in
May I never prosper, if I take advantage struction in music and French. The
of her friendless situation ! ” caste to which she belonged on the moth
As for his protégée, she was too ignorant er's side was rigorously excluded from
of the world to be disturbed by any such schools, therefore it was not easy to ob
thoughts. “ May I call you Papa, as I tain for her a good education in the Eng.
used to call my father ? ” said she. lish branches. These Alfred took upon
For some reason , undefined to himself, himself; and a large portion of his cven
the title was unpleasant to him. It did ings was devoted to hearing her lessons in
not seem as if his sixteen years of sen- geography, arithmetic, and history. Had
iority need place so wide a distance be- any one told him , a year before, that
tween them . “ No," he replied, “ you hours thus spent would have proved oth
shall be my sister .” And thenceforth erwise than tedious, he would not have
she called him Brother Alfred , and he believed it. But there was a romantic
called her Loo Loo . charm about this secret treasure, thus
His curiosity was naturally excited to singularly placed at his disposal ; and the
learn all he could of her history ; and it love and gratitude he inspired gradually
was not long before he ascertained that became a necessity of his life. Some
her mother was a superbly handsome times he felt sad to think that the time
quadroon, from New Orleans, the must come when she would cease to be a
daughter of a French merchant, who child, and when the quiet, simple relation
had given her many advantages of edu- now existing between them must neces
cation, but from carelessness had left her sarily change. He said to the old French
to follow the condition of her mother, lady, “ By and by, when I can afford it,
who was a slave. Mr. Duncan fell in I will send her to one of the best schools
810 Loo Loo. [ May,
at the North . There she can become a in vines. It was a place so full of heart
teacber and take care of herself. ” Mad- memories to her, that she always lingered
ame Labassé smiled, shrugued ber shoul- there as long as possible, and never left it
ders, and said, “ Nous verrons.” She did without a sigh. In one place was a tree
not believe it. her father had planted, in another a rose
The years glided on, and all went or a jessamine her mother bad trained .
prosperously with the young merchant. But dearest of all was a recess among the
Through various conflicts with himself, pine -trees, on the side of a hill. There
his honorable resolution remained un- was a rustic garden -chair, where her
broken . Loo Loo was still his sister. father had often sat with her upon his
She had become completely entwined knee, reading wonderful story -books,
with his existence. Life would have bought for her on his summer excur
been very dull without her affectionate sions to New York or Boston. In one of
greetings, her pleasant little songs, and her visits with Alfred, she sat there and
the graceful dances she had learned to read aloud from “ Lalla Rookh .” It was
perform so well. Sometimes, when be a mild winter day. The sunlight came
had passed a peculiarly happy evening mellowed through the evergreens, a soft
in this fashion , Madame Labassé would carpet of scarlet foliage was thickly
look mischievous, and say, 66
· But when strewn beneath their feet, and the air
do you think you shall send ber to that was redolent of the balmy breath of
school ? ” True, she did not often re- pines. Fresh and happy in the glow of
peat this experiment ; for whenever she her fifteen summers, how could she other
did it, the light went out of his coun- wise than enjoy the poem ? It was like
tenance, as if an extinguisher were sparkling wine in a jewelled goblet.
placed upon his soul. “ I oughl to do Never before had she read anything
it,” he said within himself; “ but how can aloud in tones so musically modulated, so
I live without her ? ” The French widow full of feeling. And the listener ? How
was the only person aware how romantic worked the wine in him ? A voice
and how serious was this long episode in within said, “ Remeniber your vow, Al
his life. Some gentlemen, whom he fre- fred ! this charming Loo Loo is your
quently met in business relations, knew adopted sister" ; and he tried to listen to
that he had purchased a young slave, the warning. She did not notice his
whom he had placed with a French tremor, when he rose hastily and said,
woman to be educated ; but had he told “ The sun is nearly setting. It is time
them the true state of the case , they for my sister to go home. ”
would have smiled incredulously. Oc- “ Home ? " she repeated, with a sigh.
casionally, they uttered some joke about “ This is my home. I wish I could stay
the fascination which made him so indif- here always. I feel as if the spirits of
ferent to cards and horses; but the re- my father and mother were with us here."
serve with which he received such jests Had she sighed for an ivory palace inlaid
checked conversation on the subject, andwith gold , he would have wished to give
all, except Mr. Grossman, discontinued it to her,-he was so much in love !
such attacks, after one or two experi- A few months afterward , Pine Grove
ments. was offered for sale. lle resolved to pur
As Mr. Noble's wealth increased, the chase it, and give her a pleasant surprise
wish grew stronger to place Louisa in the by restoring her to her old home, on her
midst of as much elegance as had sur- sixteenth birth -day. Madame Labassé,
rounded her in childhood . When the who greatly delighted in managing mys
house at Pine Grove was unoccupied, they teries, zealously aided in the preparations.
often went out there, and it was his delight. When the day arrived , Alfred proposed
to see her stand under the Gothic arch of a long ride with Loo Loo; in honor of
trees, a beautiful tableau vivant, framed the anniversary ; and during their ab
1858.] Loo Loo . 811

sence, Madame, accompanied by two he had been many times before, with
household servants, established herself the unconscious grace of her attitude.
at Pine Grove. When Alfred returned In’imagination, he recalled his first vision
from the drive, he proposed to stop and of her in early childhood, the singular
look at the dear old place, to which his circumstance that had united their desti
companion joyfully assented. But noth- nies, and the thousand endearing experi
ing could exceed her astonishment at ences which day by day had strengthened
finding Madame Labassé there, ready to the tie. As these thoughts passed through
preside at a table spread with fruit and his mind, he gazed upon her with de
flowers. Her feelings overpowered her vouring earnestness. She was too beau
for a moment, when Alfred said , “ Dear tiful, there in the moonlight, crowned
sister , you said you wished you could live with roses !
here always; and this shall henceforth “ Loo Loo, do you love me ? ” he ex
be your home." claimed.
“ You are too good !" she exclaimed , The vehemence of his tone startled
and was about to burst into tears. But her, as she sat there in a mood still and
he arrested their course by saying, play- dreamy as the landscape.
fully, “ Come, Loo Loo , kiss my hand, She sprang up, and, putting her arm
and say, ' Thank you , Sir, for buying me.' about bis neck, answered, “ Why, Alfred,
Say it just as you did six years ago, you you know your sister loves you."
little witch ! ” “ Not as a brother, not as a brother,
Her swimming cyes smiled like sun- dear Loo Loo,” he said , impatiently, as
shine through an April shower, and she he drew her closely to his breast. “ Will
went through the pantomime, which she you be mylove ? Will you be my wife ? "
had often before performed at his bid- In the simplicity of her inexperience ,
ding. Madame stepped in with her little and the confidence induced by long
jest : “ But, Sir, when do you think you
: habits of familiar reliance upon him ,
shall send her to that pension ? ” she replied, “ I will be anything you
“ Never mind,” he replied , abruptly ; wish .”
“Let us be happy ! ” And he moved to No flower was ever more unconscious
ward the table to distribute the fruit. of a lover's burning kisses than she was
It was an inspiring spring -day,> and of the struggle in his breast.
ended in the loveliest of evenings. The His feelings had been purely compas
air was filled with the sweet breath of jes- sionate in the beginning of their inter
samines and orange-blossoms. Madame course ; his intentions had been purely
touched the piano, and, in quick obe- kind afterward ; but he had gone on
dience to the circling sound, Alfred and blindly to the edge of a slippery preci
Loo Loo began to waltz. It was long pice. Human nature should avoid such
before youth and happiness grew weary dangerous passes.
of the revolving maze. But when at Reviewing that intoxicating evening in
last she complained of dizziness, he play- a calmer mood, he was dissatisfied with
fully whirled her out upon the piazza, his conduct. In vain he said to himself
and placed her on a lounge under the that he had but followed a universal cus
Cherokee rose her mother had trained, tom ; that all his acquaintance would
which was now a mass of blossoms. He have laughed in his face, had he told
seated himself in front of her, and they them of the resolution so bravely kept
remained silent for some minutes, watch- during six years. The remembrance of
ing the vine -shadows play in the moon- his mother's counsels camc freshly to his
light. As Loo Loo leaned on the balus- mind ; and the accusing voice of con
trade, the clustering roses hung over her science said, “ She was a friendless or
in festoons, and trailed on her white phan, whom misfortune ought to have
muslin drapery. Alfred was struck, as rendered sacred. What to you is the
812 Charley's Death . [ May,
sanction of custom ? Have you not a Meanwhile, the orphan lived in her
higher law within your own breast ? " father's house as her mother bad lived
He tried to silence the monitor by before her. She never aided the voice of
saying, “ When I have made aa líttle more Alfred's conscience by pleading with him
money, I will return to the North . I to make her his wife ; for she was com
will marry Loo Loo on the way, and she pletely satisfied with her condition , and
shall be acknowledged to the world as my had undoubting faith that whatever ho
wife, as she now is in my own soul.” did was always the wisest and the best.
[To be continued.]

CHARLEY'S DEATH.

The wind got up moaning, and blew to a brecze ;

I sat with my face closely pressed on the pane ;
In aa minute or two it began to rain,
And put out the sunset-fire in the trees.
In the clouds' black faces broke out dismay
That ran of a sudden up half the sky,
And the team, cutting ruts in the grass, went by,
Heavy and dripping with sweet wet hay.

Clutching the straws out and knitting his brow ,

Walked Arthur beside it, unsteady of limb ;
1 stood up in wonder, for, following him,
Charley was used to be ;-where was he now ?

“ ' Tis like him ,” I said, “ to be working thus late ! "

I said it, but did not believe it was so ;
He could not have staid in the meadow to mow ,
With rain coming down at so dismal a rate.
“ Ile's bringing the cows home."-I choked at that lie :
They were huddled close by in a tumult and fret,
Some pawing the dry dust up out of the wet,
Sorne looking afield with their heads lifted high.
O’er the run, o'er the hilltop, and on through the gloom
My vision ran quick as the lightning could dart;
All at once the blood shocked and stood still in my heart;
Ile was coming as never till then he had come !

Borne 'twixt our four work -hands, I saw through the fall
Of the rain, and the shadows so thick and so dim,
They had taken their coats off and spread them on him ,
And that he was lying out straight, —that was all !
 The Catacombs of Rome. 813
1858.]

THE CATACOMBS OF ROME.

( Continued .)

Custodit Dominus omnia ossa eorum .

Ps. xxxiii . 20 .

III. her death, which is said to have taken

Not quite two miles from the city -gate place in the year 304, she was honored
known as the Porta Pia , there stands, as one of the holiest of the disciples of the
on the left hand of the Nomentan Way, Lord. Her story has been aa favorite one
the ancient, and, until lately, beautiful, through all later ages; poetry and paint
Church of St. Agnes outside the Walls. ing have illustrated it ; and wherever the
The chief entrance to it descends by a Roman faith has spread, Saint Agnes has
Alight of wide steps; for its pavement is been one of the most beloved saints both
below the level of the ground, in order of the rich and the poor, of the great and
to afford easy access to the catacombs of the humble.
known as those of St. Agnes, which In her Acts * it is related that she was
opened out from it and stretched away buried by her parents in a meadow on
in interlacing passages under the neigh- the Nomentan Way. Here, it is prob
boring fields. It was a quiet, retired able, a cemetery had already for some
place, with the sacredness that invests time existed ; and it is most likely that
every ancient sanctuary, in which the the body of the Saint was laid in one
prayers and hymns of many genera- of the common tombs of the catacombs.
tions have risen . The city was not near The Acts go on to tell, that her father
enough to disturb the stillness within its and mother constantly watched at night
walls; little vineyards, and plots of mar- by her grave, and once , while watching,
ket-garden, divided from each other by " they saw, in the mid silence of the night,
hedges of reeds and brambly roses, with an army of virgins, clothed in woven gar
wider open fields in the distance, lay ments of gold, passing by with a great
around it; a deserted convent stood at light. And in the midst of them they
its side ; its precious marble columns beheld the most blessed virgin Agnes,
were dulled and the gold ground of its shining in a like dress, and at her right
mosaics was dimmed by the dust of cen- hand a lamb a than snow. At this
whiter
turies ; its pavement was deeply worn ; sight, great amazement took possession
and its whole aspect was that of seclusion of her parents and of those who were
and venerable age , without desertion and with them . But the blessed Agnes asked
without decay. the holy virgins to stay their advance for
The story of St. Agnes is one of those a moment, when she said to her parents,
which at the beginning of the fourth cen- • Behold, weep not for me as for one
tury became popular among the Chris- dead, but rejoice with me and wish me
tians and in the Church of Rome. The joy ; for with all these I have received a
martyrdom , under most cruel tortures and shining seat, and I am united in heaven
terrors, of a young girl, who chose to die to Him whom while on earth I loved with
rather than yield her purity or her faith, all my heart.' And with these words she
and who died with entire serenity and passed on.” The report of this vision was
peace, supported by divine consolations, spread among the Christians of Rome.
caused her memory to be cherished with The pleasing story was received into
an affection and veneration similar to
* This is the name given to the accounts
that in which the memory of St. Cecilia of the saints and martyrs composed in early
was already held,-and very soon after times for the use of the Church .
 814 The Catacombs of Rome. [ May
willing hearts; and the memory of the was consecrated as a church and dedi
virgin was so cherished, that her name cated to her honor. A narrow , unworn
was soon given to the cemetery where path leads to it from the Church of St.
she had been buried, and, becoming a Agnes ; it has been long left uncared -for
favorite resting place of the dead , its and unfrequented , and, stripped of its
streets were lengthened by the addition movable ornaments, it is now in a half
of many graves. ruinous condition. But its decay is more
Not many years afterwards, Constantia, impressive than the gaudy brightness of
the daughter of the Emperor Constantine, more admired and renovated buildings.
suffering from a long and painful disease, The weeds that grow in the crevices of
for which she found no relief, heard of the its pavement and hang over the capitals
marvellous vision , and was told of many of its ancient pillars, the green mould on
wonderful cures that had been wrought its walls, the cracks in its mosaics, are
at the tomb and by the interression of better and fuller of suggestion to the im
the youthful Saint. She determined, al- agination than the shiny surface and the
though a pagan , to seek the aid of which elaborate finish of modern restorations.
such great things were told ; and going to Restoration in these days always implies
the grave of Agnes at night, she prayed irreverence and bad taste. But the archi
for relief. Falling suddenly into a sweet tecture of this old building and the pur
sleep, the Saint appeared to her, and pose for which it was originally designed
promised her that she should be made present a marked example of the rapid
well , if she would believe in the Lord ity of the change in the character of the
Jesus Christ. She awoke, as the story Christians with the change of their con
relates, full of faith , and found herself dition at Rome, during the reign of Con
well. Moved with gratitude, she be stantine. The worldliness that follows
sought her father to build a church on close on prosperity undermined the spirit
the spot in honor of Saint Agnes, and in of faith ; the pomp and luxury of the
compliance with her wish , and in accord- court and the palace were carried into
ance with his own disposition to erect the forms of worship, into the construction
suitable temples for the services of his of churches, into the manner of burial.
new faith, Constantine built the church, Social distinctions overcame the brother
which a few centuries later was rebuilt hood in Christ. Riches paved an easy
in its present form and adorned with the way into the next world , and power set
mosaics that still exist. up guards around it. Imperial remains
Nearly about the same time a circular were not to mingle with common dust,
building was erected hard by the church, and the mausoleum of the princess rose
designed as a mausoleum for Constantia above the rock -hewn and narrow grave
and other members of the imperial family. of the martyr and saint.
The Mausoleum of Hadrian was occupied The present descent into the cata
by the bodies of heathen emperors and combs that lie near the churches of St.
empresses, and filled with heathen asso- Agnes and St. Constantia is by an en
ciations. New tombs were needed for trance in a neighboring field , made, after
the bodies of those who professed to have the time of persecution, to accommodate
revolted from heathenism. The marble those who might desire to visit the under
pillars of the Mausoleum of Constantia ground chapels and holy graves. A vast
were taken from more ancient and no- labyrinth of streets spreads in every di
bler buildings, its walls were lined with rection from it. Many chambers have
mosaics, and her body was laid in a been, cut in the rock at the side of the
splendid sarcophagus of porphyry. In passages , —some for family burial-places,
the thirteenth century, after Constantia some for chapels, some for places of in
had been received into the liberal com- struction for those not yet fully entered
munity of Roman saints, her mausoleum into the knowledge of the faith. It is
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 815

one of the most populous of the subter- of a long gallery. Such an entrance
ranean cemeteries, and one of the most could have been easily concealed ; and the
interesting, from the great variety in its tufa cut out for the graves, after having
examples of underground architectural been reduced to the condition of poz
construction, and from the number of the zolana, might easily at night have been
paintings that are found upon its walls. brought up to the floor of the pit. In
But its peculiar interest is, that it affords many of the Acts of the Martyrs it is
at one point a marked example of the said that they were buried in Arenario,
connection of an arenarium, or pit from " in the sand -pit,"? —- an expression which ,
which pozzolana was extracted , with the there seems no good reason for doubting,
streets of the cemetery itself. At this meant in the catacombs whose entrance
point, the bed of compact rufa, in which was at the sand-pit, they not having yet
the graves are dug, degenerates into fria- received a distinctive name.
ble and loosely compacted volcanic sand , It is difficult to convey to a distant
-and it was here, very probably, that reader even a small share of the interest
the cemetery was begun, at a time when
a with which one sees on the spot evidences
every precaution had to be used by the of the reality of the precautions with
Christians to prevent the discovery of which, in those early centuries, the Chris
their burial-places. No other of the cata- tians of Rome were forced to guard
combs gives a clearer exhibition of the themselves against a persecution which
differences in construction resulting from extended to their very burial-places,or
the different objects of excavation . In even of the interest with which one walks
the Acts known as those of St. Valen- through the unchanged paths dug out of
tine it is related, that in the time of the rock by this tenebrosa et lucifugax
Claudius many Christians were con natio. In the midst of the obscurity of
demned to work in certain sand -pits. history and the fog of fable, here is the
Under cover of such opportunities, occa- solid earth giving evidence of truth.
sions might be found in which hidden Here one sees where, by the light of his
graves could be formed in the neighbor- dim candle , the solitary digger hollowed
ing harder soil. In digging out the sand, out the grave of one of the near follow
the object was to take out the greatest ers of the apostles ; and here one reads
quantity consistent with safety, leaving in hasty and ill-spelt inscriptions some
only such supports as were necessary thing of the affection and of the faith
to hold up the superincumbent earth . of those who buried their dead in the sep
There are few regular paths, but wide ulchre dug in the rock . The Christian
spaces with occasional piers,—the passages Rome underground is a rebuke to the
being of sufficient width to admit of the Papal Rome above it ; and, from the
entrance of beasts of burden , and even worldly pomp, the tedious forms, the
of carts. The soil crumbles so easily, trickeries, the mistakes, the false claims
that no row of excavations one above an- and falser assertions, the empty archi
other could be made in it ; for the stroke tecture that reveals the infidelity of its
of the pick -axe brings it down in loose builders, the gross materialism , and the
masses . The whole aspect of the sand- crass superstition of the Roman Church,
pit contrasts strikingly with that of the one turns with relief of heart and eyes
catacombs, with their three - feet wide gal to the poverty and bareness of the dark
leries, their perpendicular walls, and their and narrow catacombs, and to the simple
tier on tier of graves. piety of the words found upon their
The stratumof pozzolana at the Cata graves. In them is at once the exhibi
combs of St. Agnes overlies a portion of tion and the promise of a purer Chris
the more solid stratum of tufa, and the tianity. In them , indeed, one may see
entrance to the sand -pit from the ceme- only too plainly the evidences of igno
tery is by steps leading up from the end rance , the beginnings of superstitions, the
816 The Catacombs of Rome. [ May ,
first traces of the corruption of the truth, farm , at the seventh milestone from Rome
the proofs of false zeal and of foolish on the Nomentan Way.” These Acts, how
martyrdoms,—but with these are also to ever, were regarded as apochryphal, and
be plainly seen the purity and the spiritu- their statement had drawn but little at
ality of elevated Christian faith. tention to the locality. In the spring of
In the service of the Roman Church 1855, a Roman archæologist, Signore Gui
used at the removal of the bodies of the di, obtained permission from the Propa
holy martyrs from their graves in the ganda, by whom the land was now held,
catacombs is a prayer in which are the as a legacy from the last of the Stuarts,
words, — " Thou hast set the bodies of the Cardinal York, to make excavations
thy soldiers as guards around the walls upon it. Beginning at a short distance
of this thy beloved Jerusalem ” ;-and as from the road, on the right hand , and pro
one passes from catacomb to catacomb, it ceeding carefully, he soon struck upon a
is, indeed, as if he passed from station to fight of steps formed of pieces of broken
station of the encircling camp of the marble, which, at about fifteen feet below
great army of the martyrs. Leaving the the surface of the ground, ended upon a
burial-place of St. Agnes, we continue floor paved with bits of marble, tomb
along the Nomentan Way to the seventh stones, and mosaics. As the work pro
milestone from Rome. Here the Cam- cecded, it disclosed the walls of an irregu
pagna stretches on either side in broad, lar church, that had been constructed ,
unsheltered sweeps. Now and then a like that of St. Agnes, partially beneath
rough wall crosses the fields, marking the soil, for the purpose of affording an
the boundaries of one of the great farms entrance into adjoining catacombs. Re
into which the land is divided. On the mains of the altar were found , and por
left stands aa low farm -house, with its out- tions of the open - work marble screen
lying buildings, and at aa distance on each which had stood before it over the crypt
side the eye falls on low square brick in which the bodies of St. Alexander
towers of the Middle Ages, and on the and one of his fellow -martyrs had been
ruinous heaps of morc ancient tombs. placed. A part of the inscription on its
The Sabine mountains push their feet border was preserved, and read as fol
far down upon the plain, covered with a lows : ET ALEXANDRO DEDICATUS
gray - green garment of olive -woods. Few VOTUM POSUIT CONSECRANTE URSO

scenes in the Campagna are more strik- EPISCOPO , — “ Dedicatus placed this in
ing, from the mingling of barrenness and fulfilment of a vow to and Alexan
beauty, from the absence of imposing der, the Bishop Ursus consecrating it."
monumental ruins and the presence of The Acts supply the missing name of
old associations. The turf of the wide Eventius,—an aged priest, who, it was
fields was cropped in the winter by the said, had conversed with some of the
herds driven down at that season from apostles themselves. His greater age
the recesses of the Neapolitan mountains, had at that early and simple time given
and the irregular surface of the soil af- him the place of honor in the inscription
forded no special indications of treasures and in men's memory before the youthful,
buried beneath it. But the Campagna is so -called, Pope Alexander. Probably this
full of hidden graves and secreted build- little church had been built in the fourth
ings. century, and here a bishop had been ap
In the Acts of the Martyrdom of St. pointed to perform the rites within it.
Alexander, who, according to the story It was a strange and touching discov
of the Church, was the sixth successor of ery , that of this long-buried, rude coun
St. Peter, and who was put to death in try -church,—the very existence of which
the persecution of Trajan , in the year had been forgotten for more than a thou
117, it was said that his body was buried sand years. On the 3d of May, 1855,
by a Roman lady, Severina, “ on her the day set apart in the calendar to the
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 817

honor of the sailkts to whom it was con- could so sacred and venerable a locality
secrated, the holy services were once be protected from modern superstition
more performed upon the ancient altar and ecclesiastical zeal ? In the spring
of the roofless sanctuary. The voices of of 1857, preparations were being made
priest and choir sounded through the for building upon the ground, and aa Car
long silent chapels, while the larks sang thusian convent, it was said, was to be
their hymns of gladness over the fields erected, which would enclose within its
above. On the rough floor, inscriptions, lifeless walls the remains of the ancient
upon which, in the early centuries, the church. Once more , then, it is to be
faithful had knelt, were again read by shut out from the sky ; and now it is not
kneeling worshippers. On one broken Nature that asserts her predominance,
slab of marble was the word MARTYR ; protecting while she conceals, and throw
on another, the two words, SPARAGINA ing ber mantle over the martyrs' graves,
FIDELIS ; on another, Post VARIAS to keep them from sacrilege ,—but she
CURAS , POST LOXGE MOXITA VITÆ . is driven away by the builders of the
The catacombs opening from the church papal court, and all precious old associ
have not been entered to a great distance, ations are incongruous with those of
and though more rudely excavated than modern Roman architecture and Roman
most of those nearer the city, as if intend conventual disciplinc.
ed for the burial-places of a poorer pop- One morning, in the spring of 1855,
ulation, they are of peculiar interest, be- shortly after the discovery had been
cause many of theirgraves remain in their made, the Pope went out to visit the
original state, and here and there, in the Church of St. Alexander. On his return ,
mortar that fastens their tiled fronts, por- he stopped to rest in the unoccupied con
tions of the vessel of glass or pottery that vent adjoining the Church of St. Agnes.
held the collected blood of the martyr laid Here there was a considerable assem
within are still undisturbed. No pictures blage of those who had accompanied him ,
of any size or beauty adorn the uneven and others who were admitted at this
walls, and no chapels are hollowed out place to join his suite . They were in
within them . Most of the few inscriptions the second story of the building, and
are scratched upon the mortar,-Spiritus the Pope was in the act of addressing
tuus in bono quiescal,—but now and then them, when suddenly the old floor, un
a bit of marble, once used for a heathen able to support the unaccustomed weight,
inscription, bears on its other side some gave way, and most of the company fell
Christian words. None of the inscriptions with it to the floor below. The Pope
within the church which bear a date are was thrown down, but did not fall through.
later than the end of the fifth century , The moment was one of great confusion
and it seems likely that shortly after this and alarm , the etiquette of the court was
time this church of the Campagna was de- disturbed, but no person was killed and
serted, and its roof falling in, it was soon no one dangerously hurt. In common
concealed under a mass of rubbish and of language, and in Roman belief, it was a
earth, and the grass closed it with its soft miraculous escape. The Pope, attributing
and growing protection. his safety to the protection of the Virgin
During two years, the uncovered and of St. Agnes, determined at once
church, with its broken pillars, its crack- that the convent should be rebuilt and
ed altar, its imperfect mosaics, its worn reoccupied, and the church restored .
pavement, remained open to the sky, in The work is now complete, and all the
the midst of solitude. But how could ancient charm of time and use, all the
anything with such simple and solemn venerable look of age and quiet, have
associations long escape desecration at been laboriously destroyed, and gaudy,
Rome ? How could such an opportunity inharmonious color, gilding, and polish
for restoration be passed over ? How have been substituted in their place.
VOL. I. 52
818 The Catacombs of Rome. [May,
The debased taste and the unfeeling ig- And here we come upon another le
norance of restorers have been employed, gend, which takes us out again on the
as so often in Italy, to spoil and desecrate Appian Way, to the place where now
the memorials of the past; and the munif- stands the Church of St. Sebastian. St.
icence of Pius, Munificentia Pii IX ., is
1 Gregory the Great relates in one of his
placarded on the inner walls. One is too letters, that, not long after St. Peter
frequently reminded at Rome of the old and St. Paul had suffered martyrdom ,
and new lamps in the story of Aladdin. some Christians came from the East to
We turn reluctantly from the Nomen- Rome to find the bodies of these their
tan Way, and passing through Rome, we countrymen , which they desired to carry
go out of the gate which opens on the back with them to their own land. They
Appian. About a mile from the present so far succeeded as to gain possession of
wall, just where the road divides before the bodies, and to carry them as far as
coming to the Catacombs of St. Callixtus, the second milestone on the Appian Way.
a little, ugly, white church, of the deform- Here they paused, and when they at
ed architecture of the seventeenth cen- tempted to carry the bodies farther, so
tury, recalls, by its name of Domine quo great a storm of thunder and lightning
vadis ? 6 Lord, wbither goest thou ? ” arose, that they were terrified, and did
one of the most impressive, one of the ear- not venture to repeat their attempt. By
liest and simplest, of the many legends of this time, also, the Romans had become
the legendary religious annals of Rome. aware of the carrying off of the sacred
It relates, that, at the time of the perse- bodies, and, coming out from the city,
cution of Nero, St. Peter, being then in recovered possession of them . One of
Rome, was persuaded to fly secretly from the old pictures on the wall of the porti
the city, in the hope of escaping from the co of the ancient basilica of St. Peter's
near peril. Just as he reached this preserved a somewhat different version
place, trembling, we may well believe, of the legend, representing the Romans
not more with fear than with doubt, as falling violently upon the Oriental
while past scenes rose vividly before him, robbers, and compelling them, with a
and the last words heard from his Mas- storm of blows, to yield up the possession
ter's lips came with a flood of self-re- of the relics they were carrying away by
proach into his heart, as he hurried stealth .
silently along, with head bowed down, in But the legend went on further to state,
the gray twilight, he became suddenly that, on the spot where they thus had re
aware of a presence before him, and gained the bodies of their saints, the
looking up, beheld the form of that be- Romans made a deep hole in the ground,
loved Master whom he was now a second and laid them away within it very secret
time denying. He beheld him , moreover, ly. Here for some time they rested , but
in the act of bearing his cross. Peter, at length were restored to their original
with his old ardor, did not wait to be ad- tombs, the one on the Ostian Way, the
dressed, but said , Domine, quo vadis ? — other on the Vatican. But St. Peter
“ O Lord, whither goest thou ? ” The Sav- was again to be laid in this secret cham
iour, looking at him as he had looked but ber in the earth on the Appian Way.
once before, replied, Venio Romam ite- In the episcopate of the saint and scoun
rum crucifigi, — “ I come to Rome to be drel Callixtus, the Emperor Elagabalus,
crucified a second time " ; and thereupon with characteristic extravagance and ca
disappeared . Peter turned, reëntered price, resolved to make a circus on the
the gate, and shortly after was crucified Vatican, wide enough for courses of char
for bis Lord's sake. His body, it is said, iots drawn by four elephants abreast.
was laid away in a grave on the Vatican All the older buildings in the way were
Hill, where his great church was after- to be destroyed, to gratify this imperial
wards built. whim ; and Callixtus, fearing lest the
1858.] The Catacombs of Rome. 819

Christian cemetery, and especially the Damasus had to pay for the getting rid
tomb of the prince of the apostles might of his rival's party, the bargain was an
be discovered and profaned , removed the easy one for him . Tbere bad been terri
body of St. Peter once more to the Ap ble and bloody fights in the Roman streets
pian Way. Here it lay for forty years, between the parties of the contending
and round it and near it an underground aspirants for the papal seat. Ursicinus
cemetery was gradually formed ; and it had been driven from Rome, but Dama
was to this burial-place, first of all, that sus had had trouble with the priests of his
the name Catacomb,* now used to denote faction. Some of them had been res
all the underground cemeteries, was ap- cued, as he was hurrying them off to
plied. prison, and had taken refuge with their
Though at length St. Peter was re- followers in the Basilica of Sta Maria
stored to the Vatican, from which he has Maggiore. Damasus, with a mob of char
never since been removed, and where his ioteers, gladiators, and others of the scum
grave is now hidden by his church, the of Rome, broke into the church, and slew
place where he had lain so long was still a hundred and sixty men and women
esteemed sacred . The story of St. Se- who had been shut up within it. Ursi
bastian relates how , after his martyred cinus, however, returned to the city ; there
body had been thrown into the Cloaca were fresh disturbances, and a new mas
Maxima, that his friends might not have sacre, on this occasion, in the Church
the last satisfaction of giving it burial,1 he of St. Agnes ; and years passed before
appeared in aa vision to Lucina, a Roman Damasus was established as undisputed
lady, told her where his body might be ruler of the Church .
found, and bade her lay it in a grave It was then , in fulfilment of the vow
near that in which the apostles had rest- he had made during his troubles, that
ed. This was done, and less than a cen- Saint Damasus ( for he became a saint
tury afterward a church rose to mark the long since, success being a great sanc
place of his burial, and connected with tifier) adorned the underground chapel
it, Pope Damasus, the first great restorer of the apostles. The entrance to it is
and adorner of the catacombs, [A. D. through the modern basilica of St. Sebas
266-285 , ] caused the chamber that was tian . It is a low, semicircular chamber,
formed below the surface of the ground with irregular walls, in which a row of
around the grave of the apostles to be arched graves ( arcosolia ) has been form
lined with wide slabs of marble, and to ed, which once were occupied, probably ,
be consecrated as a subterrancan chapel. by bodies of saints or martyrs. Near the
It is curious enough that this pious work middle of the chapel is the well, about
should have been performed , as is learned seven feet square , within which are the
from an inscription set up here by Dama- two graves, lined with marble, where the
sus himself, in fulfilment of a vow, on the bodies of the apostles are said to have
extinction among the Roman clergy of lain bid. Fragments of painting still
the party of Ursicinus, his rival. This remain on the walls of this pit, and three
custom of propitiating the favor of the faint and shadlowy figures may be traced ,
saints by fair promises was thus early which seem to represent the Saviour be
established . It was soon found out that tween St. Peter and St. Paul. Over the
it was well to have a friend at court with mouth of the well stands an ancient altar.
whom a bargain could be struck . If the However little credence may be given to
adorning of this chapel was all that the old legends concerning the place, it is
impossible not to look with interest upon
* A word, the derivation of which is not it. For fifteen hundred years worship
yet determined. The first instance of its use
is in the letter of Gregory from which we de pers have knelt there as upon ground
rive the legend. This letter was written A. D. made holy by the presence of the two
694 . apostles. The memory of their lives and
820 The Catacombs of Rome. [ May,
of their teachings has, indeed, consecrat- Rome, from time to time, he, too , used to
ed the place ; and though superstition has go at night to this cemetery, and watch
often turned the light of that memory through the long hours in penitence and
into darkness, yet here , too, has faith been prayer. Such associations as these give
strengthened, and courage become stead- interest to the cemetery of St. Sebastian's
fast, and penitence been confirmed into Church.
holiness, by the remembrance of the zeal, The preëminence which the Appian
the denial of Peter, and the forgiveness Way, regina viarum , held among the
of his Master, by the remembrance of the great streets leading from Rome, - not
conversion, the long service, the exhorta- only as the road to the South and to the
tions, and the death of Paul. fairest provinces, but also because it was
The catacombs proper, to which en- bordered along its course by the monu
trance may be had from the Basilica of mental tombs the greatest Roman
St. Sebastian, arc of little importance in families, —was retained by it, as we have
themselves, and have lost, by frequent seen , as the street on which lay the chief
alteration and by the erection of works Christian cemeteries. The tombs of the
of masonry for their support, much that Horatii, the Metelli, the Scipios, were
succeeded by the graves of a new, less
was characteristic of their original con-
struction. During a long period, while famous, but not less noble race of heroes.
most of the other subterranean ceme- On the edge of the height that rises just
teries were abandoned, this remained beyond the Church of St. Sebastian stand
open , and was visited by numerous pil- the familiar and beautiful ruins of the
grims. It led visitors to the church, and tomb of Cecilia Metella. Of her who was
the guardians of the church found for buried in this splendid mausoleum nothing
their interest to keep it in good repair. is known but what the three lines of the
Thus, though its value as one of the early inscription still remaining on it tell us ,
burial-places of the Christians was di CAECILIAE
minished, another interest attached to it
through the character of some of those Q. CRETICI F.
visitors who were accustomed to frequent METELLAE CRASSI.
its dark paths. Saint Bridget found some
of that wild mixture of materialism and She was the daughter of Quintus, sur
mysticism , (a not uncommon mingling ) named the Cretan , and the wife of Cras
which passes under the name of her Reve- sus . But her tomb overlooks the ground
lations, in the solitude of these streets of beneath which , in a narrow grave, was
the dead. Here St. Philip Neri, the buried a more glorious Cecilia.* The
Apostle of Rome , the wise and liberal contrast between the ostentation and the
founder of the Oratorians, the still be pride of the tombs of the heathen Ro
loved saint of the Romans, was accus- mans, and the poor graves, hollowed out
tomed to spend whole nights in prayer in the rock, of the Christians, is full of
and meditation. Demons, say bis biog- impressive suggestions. The very close
raphers, and evil spirits assailed him on ness of their neighborhood to each other
his way , trying to terrify him and turn him brings out with vivid effect the broad
back ; but he overcame them all. Year gulf of separation that lay between them
after year he kept up this practice, and in association, in affection, and in hopes.
gained strength, in the solitude and dark Coming out from the dark passages of
ness, and in the presence of the dead, to the Catacombs of St. Callixtus, in the
resist fiercer demons than any that had clear twilight of a winter's evening, one
power to attack him from without. And sees rising against the red glow of the
it is related, that, when St. Charles Borro- sky the broken masses of the ancient
meo , his friend, the narrow , but pure
minded reformer of the Church , came to * Guéranger, Thistoire de St. Cecile. p. 45.
1858. ] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 821

tombs. One city of the dead lies beneath and death of .a thousand years are there ;
the feet, another stretches before the eyes and, in the dimness of the dusky even
far out of sight. The crowded history of ing, troops of the dead rise before the
Rome is condensed into one mighty spec- imagination and advance in slow proces
tacle. The ambitions, the hates, the val- sion by opposite ways along the silent
or, the passions, the religions, the life road .
[ To be continued. )

TIIE PURE PEARL OF DIVER'S BAY.

( Concluded .]
V.
Did sbe talk of flesh and blood, when
she said that she would find him ? - The
summer passed away ; and when autumn
came, it could not be said that search for
the bodies of these fishermen was quite
abandoned. But no fragment of boat,
nor body of father or son , ever came, by
rumor or otherwise, to the knowledge of
as a spirit from the influences of the ex
ternal world.
This state of being no person who
lives by bread alone could have under
stood, or endured patiently, in one with
whom in the affairs of daily life he was
associated .
The Revelator was an exile in Pat
mos.

the people of the Bay. Dame Briton was convinced that Cla
The voyage was long to Clarice. Mar- rice was losing her wits. Bondo Em
vellous strength and acuteness of vision mins yielded to the force of some inex
come to the eyes of those who watch. plicable law, and found her fairer day by
Keen grow the ears that listen. The day. To his view, she was like a vis
soldier's wife in the land of Nena Sahib ion moving through a dream , rather than
inspires despairing ranks: “ Dinna ye like any actual woman ; and though
hear the pibroch ? Hark ! • The Camp- the drift of the vision seemed not to
bells are coming! ' ” —and at length, when wards him, he was more anxious to com
the hope she lighted bas gone out in sul- pel it than to accomplish any other pur
len darkness, and they bitterly resent the pose ever entertained. The actual near
joy she gave them ,—lo, the bagpipes, ness, the apparent unattainableness, of
banners, regiment! The pibroch sounds, that he coveted, excited in him such
“ The Campbells are coming ! ” The desires of conquest and possession as he
Highlanders are in sight !-But, oh , the would seek to appease in one way alone.
voyage was long, -and Clarice could see To win her would have been to the
no sail , could hear no oar ! mind of any other inhabitant of Diver's
Clarice ceased to say that she must Bay a feat as impracticable as the cap
find the voyagers. She ceased to talk of ture of the noble ghost of Hamlet's
them . She lived in these days a life so father, as he stands exorcized by Mrs.
silent, and, as it seemed, so remote from Kemble.
other lives, that it quite passed the under- And yet, while ber sorrow made her
standing of those who witnessed it. Tears the pity and the wonder of the people, it
seldom fell from her eyes, complaints did not keep her sacred from the reach
never ;—but her interest was aroused by of gossip. Observing the frequency with
no temporal matter ; she seemed , in her which Bondo Emmins visited Old Brit
thoughts and her desires, as far removed on's cabin, it was profanely said by some
822 The Pure Pearl of Direr's Bay. [May,
The spring came, and Clarice set to
that the pale girl would ere long avert
her eyes from the dead and fix them work as never in her industrious life
on the living before. Day after day she gathered
Emmins bad frequent opportunities for sea-weed, dried it, and carried it to town.
making manifest his good -will towards She went out with her mother in the
the family of Briton . The old man fishing -boat, and the two women were
fell on the ice one day and broke his equal in strength and courage to almost
thigh, and was constrained to lie in any two men of the Bay. She filled
bed for many a day, and to walk with the empty fish -barrels, -and promised
the help of crutches when he rose again. to double the usual number. She dried
Then was the young man's time to wagon -loads of finny treasure ,—and she
serve him like a son . He brought a made good bargains with the traders.
surgeon from the Port,—and the ineffi- No one was so active, —no one bade fair
ciency of the man was not his fault, sure- to turn the summer to such profit as
ly. Through teilious days and nights Clarice. She bad come back to flesh
Emmins sat by the old man's bedside, and blood . — John came back from Pat
soothing pain , enlivening weariness, en mos .
deavoring to banish the gloomy elements Her face grew brown with tan ; it was
that combined to make the cabin the not lovely as a fair ghost's, any longer ; it
abode of darkness. He would have was ruddy, —and her limbs grew strong.
his own way, and no one could prevent Bondo Emmins marked these symp
him . When Old Briton's money failed , toms, and took courage. People gener
his supplies did not. Even Clarice was ally said , “ She is well over her grief,
compelled to accept bis service thank- and has set her heart on getting rich .
fully, and to acknowledge that she knew There is that much of her mother in
not how they could have managed with- her.” Others considered that Emmins
out him in this strait. was in the secret, and at the bottom of
The accident, unfortunate as it might ber serenity and diligence.
be deemed, nevertheless exercised a most Dame Briton and her spouse were
favorable intluence over the poor girl's not one whit wiser than their neighbors.
life. It brought her soul back to her They could not see that any half-work
body, and spoke to her of wants and was impossible with Clarice ,—that, if
their supply,—of debts, of creditors,—of she had resolved, for their sake, to live
fish , and sea -weed, and the market,-of as people must, who have bodies to
bread, and doctor's bills , —of her poor old respect and God -originated wants to
father, and of her mother. She came supply, she must live by a ceaseless ac
back to earth . Now, henceforth, the tivity. Because she had ascended far
support of the household was with her. beyond tears, lamentation, helplessness,
Bondo Emmins might serve her father, they thought she had forgotten.
-she had no desire to prevent what Yes, they came to this conclusion ,
was so welcome to the wretched old though now and then , not often , general
man ,—but for herself, her mother, the ly on some pleasant Sunday, when all
house, no favor from him ! her work was done, Clarice would go
And thus Clarice rose up to rival Bon- down to the Point and take her Sabbath
do in her ready courage. When her rest there. No danger of disturbance
father, at last careful, at last anxious, there !—of all bleak and desert places
thoughtful of the future, began to ex- known to the people of Diver's Bay,
press his fear, he met the ready assur- that point was bleakest and most desert
ance of his daughter that she should ed.
be able to provide all they should ever The place was hers, then. In this soli
want ; let him not be troubled ; when tude she could follow her thoughts, and
the spring came, she would show him . be led by them down to the ocean , or
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 823

away to heavenly depths. It was good and by their voices, if one should ar
for her to go there in quietness, -to rest gue with them , strife was not far off.
in recollection . Strength comes ever Clarice staid one moment, as if to take
to the strong. This pure heart had in the burden of each eager voice ; then
nothing to fear of sorrow . Sorrow can she shook her head :
only give the best it has to such as she. “ I am married already,” she said ; “ I
Grief may weaken the selfish and the gave him my heart and my hand. You
weak ; it may make children of the foole would not rob Luke Merlyn ? ”
ish and drivellers ; by grief the ineffi- When she had so spoken, calmly, firm
cient may come to the fulness of their ly, as if it were impossible that she
inefficiency ;—but out of the bitter cup should be moved or agitated by such
the strong take strength, though it may speech as this she had heard, Clarice
be with shuddering: walked away to the beach, unmoored her
One Sunday morning Clarice lingered father's boat, and rowed out into the
longer about the house than usual, and Bay.
Emmins, who had resolved , that, if she Bondo Emmins stood with the old
went that day to the Point, he would fol- people and gazed after her.
low her, found her with her father and , “ Odd fish ! ” he muttered .
mother, talking merely for their pleas- “ Never mind,” said Old Briton, bob
ure, —if the languid tones of her voice bling up and down the sand ; “ it's the
and the absent look of her eyes were to first time she's been spoke to. She'll
be trusted . come round . I know Clarice."
Emmins thought that this moment was “ You know Clarice ? ” broke in Dame
favorable to him. He was sure of Dame Briton . “ You don't know her ! She
Briton and the old man, and he almost isn't Clarice, —she's somebody else . Who,
believed that he was sure of Clarice. I don't know."
Finding her now with her father and “ Hush ! ” said Bondo, who had no de
mother at home on this bright Sunday sire that the couple should fall into a
morning, one glance at her face surprised quarrel. “ I know who she is. Don't
him , and, almost before he was aware, he plague her. It will all come out right
had spoken what he had hitherto so pa- yet. I'll wait. But don't say anything
tiently refrained from speaking. to her about it. Let me speak when the
But the answer of Clarice still more time comes.- -Where's my pipe, Dame
surprised him . With her eyes gazing out Briton ? "
on the sea, she stood, the image of silence, Emmins spent a good part of the day
while Bondo warily set forth his hopes with the old people, and did not allow
Old Briton and the dame looked on and the conversation once to turn upon him
deemed the symptoms favorable . But self and Clarice. But he talked of the
Clarice said, improvements he should like to make in
“ Heart and hand I gave to him . I the old cabin, and they discussed the
am the wife of Luke ;-how can I marry market, and entertained each other with
another ? " recollections of past times, and with
Bondo seemed eager to answer that strange stories made up of odd imagina
question, for he hastily waved his hand tions and still more uncouth facts. Su
toward Dame Briton , who began to pernatural influences were dwelt upon,
speak. and many a belief in superstitions belong
“ Luke will never come back ," said he, ing to childhood was confessed in peace
expostulating. ful unconsciousness of the fact that it
gently
“ But I shall go to him ,” was the quiet was Clarice who had turned all their
reply. thoughts today from the great prosaic
Then the old people, whose hearts highway where plain facts have their
were in the wo'ng, broke out together, endless procession.
 824
The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay.
[ May,
VI. imagination , no prescience of mortal
troublsh cou amon myste
Clarice went out alone in her fish- rio us e ad owlds. lur
Byk ber faigth the
in the et er
ing-boat, as during all the past week she nity of love she was greatly more than
had purposed to do when this day came, conqueror.
if it should prove favorable. She wished The day passed, and night drew near .
to approach the Point thus, —and her It was the purpose of Clarice to row
purpose in so doing was such as po mor- home with the tide. But a strange thing
tal could have suspected. And yet, as happened to her ere she set out to return .
in the fulfilment of this purpose she As she stood looking out upon the sea ,
went, hastened from her delaying by the watching the waves as they rolled and
address of Bondo Emmins, it seemed to broke
her as if her secret must be read by the to her up
fron
om the beac
the de ep.h , a new token came
three upon the beach .
She wore upon ber neck, as she had LukAlm
e, ost od mig
she asstoshe ng ethewaionw
chihav
watht ted ard
for
worn since the days of her betrothal drift ; calculating the spot at which the
to Luke, the cord to wbich the pearl waves would deposit their burden, she
ring was attached. The ring had never stood there when the plank was borne
been removed ; but now , as Clarice came inland , to save it, if possible, from being
near to the Point, she laid the oars aside, dashed with violence on the rocks.
and with trembling hands untied the To this plank a child was bound ,-a
black cord and disengaged the ring, and little creature that might be three years
drew it on her finger, that trembled like old . At the sight of this form , and this
a leaf. She was doing now what Luke helplessness, the heart of the woman
had bidden her do ,-and for his sake. seemed to break into sudden living
Until now she had always looked upon flame. She carried the plank down to
it as a ring of betrothal; henceforth it a level spot with an energy that would
was her wedding-ring , -- the evidence of have made light of a burden even ten
her true marriage with Luke Merlyn . times as great ; she stooped upon the
O unseen husband, didst thou see her sand ; she unbound the body; and she
as anew she gave herself to love, to con- thought, “ The child is dead ! ” Never
stancy, to duty ? thel her arm she
she too him s;
She was floating toward the Point, driedess bis limbsk with inher apron ; she
when she knelt in the fishing-boat and wiped his face, and rubbed his hair ;—but
plunged the hand that wore the ring un- he gave no sign of life. Then she wrap
der the bright cold water. How bright, ped him in her shawl, and laid him in
how cold it was ! It chilled Clarice ; she the boat, and rowed home.
shuddered ; -was she the bridle of Death ? There was no one in the cabin when
But she did not rise from her knees, nci- Clarice went in . When Dame Briton
ther withdraw her hand, until her vow , came home, she found her daughter with
the vow she was there to speak, was a ring upon her finger, bending over the
spoken. There she knelt alone in the body of a child that lay upon her bed .
great universe, with God and Luke Mer- a
The dam e was quickly brought into
lyn.
servicshe wouthe wasst nofrorea her tolabfea
When at last she stood upon the Point, tha t e, and ldredesi m son orsr
she had strength to meet her destiny, and until she had received some evidence of
patience to wait while it was being de- death or life. She and Clarice worked
veloped. She knew her marriage cove- all night over the body of the child,
nant was blest, and filial duty was divest- and towards morning were rewarded by
ed of every thought or notion that could the result. The boy's eyes opened , and he
tempt or deceive her. Treading thus tried to speak. By noon of that day he
fearlessly among the high places of was lying in the arms of Clarice, deathly
 1 1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 825

pallor on his little face ; but he could rice by this new, strange care. But
T: 21 speak, and his pretty eyes were open. they did not see the exceeding great re
All those hours of mutual sympathy waru, uor how the love that lingered
and striving, Dame Briton had been about a mere . memory seemed blessed
thinking to say, “ Clarice, what's the ring to the poor girl with a blessing of divine
for ? ” But she had not said it, when, in significance.
the afternoon , Bondo Emmins came into To make the child her own by some
the cabin, and saw Clarice with a beau- special act that should establish her
tiſul boy in her arins, wrapped in her right became the wish of Clarice. It
shawl, while before the fire some rags of was not enough for her that she should
infant garments were drying. toil for him while others slept, that she
They talked over the boy's fortune should stint berself in order to clothe
and the night's work, the dame taking him in a becoming manner, that she
the chief conduct of the story ; and Bon- . should suffer anxiety for him in the
do was so much interested, and praised manifold forms best known to those who
the child so much, and spoke with so have endured it. She had given herself
much concern of the solitary, awful voy- to Luke, so that she feared no more from
age the little one must have made, that any man's solicitation . She would fain
when he subsequently offered to take assert her claim to this young life which
the child in his arms, Clarice let him go, Providence had given her. But this de
and explained, when the young man sire was suggested by external influence,
began to talk to the boy, that he could as her marriage covenant had been.
not understand a word, neither could Now and then a missionary came
she make out the meaning of his speech. down to Diver's Bay, and preached in
Emmins heard Clarice say that she the open air, or, if the weather disap
must go to the Port the next day and pointed him, in the great shed built for
learn what vessel had been lost, and if the protection of fish -barrels and for the
any passengers were saved ; and by day drying of fish . No surprising results had
break he set out on that errand. He re- ever attended his preaching ; the meet
turned early in the morning with the news ings were never large, though sometimes
that a merchantman , the “Gabriel,” had tolerably well attended ; the preacher
[ ! gone down, and that cargo and crew was almost a stranger to the people ; and
were lost. While he was telling this to the wonder would have been a notable
Clarice he observed the ring upon her one, had there been any harvest to speak
finger, and he coupled the appearing of of in return for the seed he scattered .
that token with the serenity of the girl's The seed was good ; but the fowls of the
air were free to carry it away ; the
face, and hailed his conclusion as one
who hoped everything from change and thorns might choke it, if they would ; it
nothing from constancy. was not protected from any wind that
Clarice had found the boy in the place blew.
where she had looked for Luke that night A few Sundays after Gabriel became
when his cap was washed to her feet. the charge of Clarice, the missionary
Over and over again she had said this to came and preached to the people about
her father and mother while they busied Baptism . Though burdened with aa mul
themselves about the unconscious child ; titude of cares which he had no right to
now she said it again to Bondo Emmins, assume, which kept him busy day and
night in efforts lacking only the concen
as if there were some special significance
tration that would have made them
in the fact, as indeed to her there was.
He was her child, and he should be her effective, the man was earnest in his
care , and she would call him Gabriel. labor and his speech, and it chanced
People could understand the burden now and then that a soul was ready for
imposed upon the laborious life of Cla the truth he brought
826 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [May,
On this occasion he addressed the par- the desire of Clarice. One day when
ents in their own behalf and that of she had some business to transact in the
their children . The bright day, the market, she dressed Gabriel in a new
magnificent view his eyes commanded frock she had made for him , and took
from the place where he stood to address him with her to the Port, carrying him
the handful of people, the truth, with in her arms half the way. She did not
whose importance he was impressed, find the minister, but she had tested the
made him eloquent. He spoke with sincerity of her desire. When he came
power, and Clarice Briton, holding the down again to the Bay, as he did the
band of little Gabriel, listened as she next Sunday, she was waiting to give
had never listened before. him the first fruits of his labors there.
66
• Death unto sin,” this baptism signi- He arrived early in the morning, that
fied, he said. She looked at the child's he might forestall the fishermen and
bright face; she recalled the experience their families in whatever arrangements
through which she had passed, by which they might be making for the day.
she was able to comprehend these words. When Clarice first saw bim, her heart
She had passed through death ; she for a moment failed her, she wished
had risen to life ; for Luke was dead, he had not come, or that she had gone
and was alive again, - therefore she off to spend the day before she knew
lived also. Tears came into the girl's But, in the very midst
of his coming.
eyes, unexpected , abundant, as she lis- of ber regrets, she caught up Gabriel
tened to the missionary's pleading with and walked forth to meet the preacher.
these parents, to give their little ones The missionary recognized Clarice,
to their Heavenly Father, and them- and he had already heard the story of
selves to lives of holiness. the child . He was the first to speak, and
He would set the mark of the cross a few moments' talk , which seemed to
on their foreheads, he said , to show that her endless, though it was about Gabriel,
they were Christ's servants ; —and then passed before she could tell him how she
he preached of Christ, seeking to soften had sought him in his own home on ac
the tough souls about him with the story count of the boy, and what her wish was
of a divine childhood ; and he verily concerning him.
talked to them as one should do who A naturalist, walking along that beach
felt that in all his speaking their human and discovering some long-sought speci
hearts anticipated him . It was not within men, at a moment when he least looked
the compass of his voice to reach that sav- and hoped for it, would have understood
age note which in brutal ignorance con- the feeling and the manner of the mis
demns, where loving justice never could sionary just then. Surprise came before
condemn. He had an apprehension of gladness, and then followed much in
the vital truth that belief in the world's restigation, whereby the minister would
Saviour was not belief in a name, but persuade himself, even as the naturalist
the reception of that which Jesus embod- under similar circumstances would do, of
ied . He came down to Diver's Bay, ex- the genuineness of what was before him ;
pecting to find human nature there, and - he must ascertain all the attending cir
the only pity was that he had not time cumstances .
to perform what he attempted. Let us, It was a simple story that his question
however, thank him for his honest en- ing drew forth. The missionary learned
deavor; and be glad, that, for one, Clarice something in the interview , as well as
was there to hear him , she heard him Clarice. He learned what confidence
so gladly. there is in a noble spirit of resignation ;
To take a vow for Gabriel, to give that it need not be the submission of
him . to God, to confirm him in possession helplessness. He saw anew , what he
of the name she had bestowed, became had learned for himself under different
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 827

circumstances, the satisfaction arising and herself, Clarice's heart was too deep
from industry that is based on duty, ly stirred to admit of speech. After she
and involves skill in craft, judgment in had obtained the promise of her parents,
affairs, and that integrity which keeps she said no more to them ; they did
one to his oath, though it be not to his not hear her speak again until her firm
profit. He heard the voice of a tender, “ I will ” broke on their ears.
pitiful, loving womanhood, strongly man- Dame Briton was not half pleased at
ifesting its right to protect helplessness, what she saw and heard, during this ser
by the utterance of its convictions con- vice. She looked at Bondo Emmins to
cerning that helplessness. He knew that see what he was thinking ,—but little she
to such a woman the Master would have learned from his solemn face. When
spoken not one word of reproach, but the sign of the cross was laid on the
many of encouragement and sympathy. forehead of Clarice, and on the forehead
So he spoke to her of courage, and of Gabriel, a frown for an instant was
shared ber hopes, by directing them with seen on his own ; but it was succeeded by
a generous confidence in her. He was an expression of feature such as made
the man for his vocation, for in every the dame look quickly away, for in that
strait he looked to his human heart for same instant his eyes were upon her.
direction ,-and in his heart were not only Enough of surprise and gaping wonder
sympathy and gentleness, but justice and would Dame Briton have discovered in
judgment. other directions, had she sought the evi
While he talked to Clarice, the idea dences ; but from Bondo Emmins she
which had taken cognizance of Ga iel looked down at her “ old man ,” and she
alone enlarged , —it involved herself. saw his tears. Then came Clarice, and
“ What doth hinder me to be bap before she knew it she was holding the
tized ? " she asked , in the words of Philip. little Christian Gabriel in her stern old
“If thou believest, thou mayest.” arms, and kissing away the drops of hal
Accordingly, at the conclusion of the lowed water that flashed upon his eye
morning prayer, when the preacher said, lids.
“ Those persons to be baptized may now A sermon followed, the like of which,
come forward ,” Clarice Briton, leading for poetry or wonder, was never heard
little Gabriel by the hand, rose from her among these people. The preacher
seat and walked up before the congrega- seemed to think this an occasion for
tion, and stood in the presence of all. all his eloquence ; nay, for the sake of
Not an eye was turned from her dur- justice, I will say, his heart was full of
ing the ceremony: When she lifted rejoicing, for now he believed a church
Gabriel, and held himn in her arms, and was grafted here, a Branch which the
promised the solemn promises for him Root would nourish . His words served
as well as for herself, the souls that wit- to deepen the impression made by the
nessed it thought that they had lost Clar- ceremonial. Clarice Briton and little
ice. The tears rolled down Old Briton's Gabriel shone in white raiment that day;
cheeks when he looked upon the girl. and, thanks to him, when he went on to
What he saw he did not half understand, prove the Kingdom of Heaven upon
but there was an awful solemnity about earth one with that mysterious majesty
the transaction, that overpowered him. on high, a single leap took Clarice Briton
He and Dame Briton had come to the over the boundaries of faith .
meeting because Clarice urged them to
do so ;-she had said she was going to
VII.
make a public promise about Gabriel,
and that was all she told them ; for, be- But if to others Clarice seemed to
side that there was little time for expla- have passed the boundary line of their
dation in the hurry of preparing Gabriel dominion, to herself the bond of neigh
828 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [May,
borhood was strengthened. The mission- nothing that seemed to herself incredible;
ary told her all be had a right to expect her fairy tales were not more wonderful
of her now , as a fellow -worker, and point than facts as she beheld them. She
ed out to her the ways in which she might taught the boy songs ; she gave him
second his labors at the Bay. It was but language. The clothes ho wore, bought
a new form of the old work to which she with her own money, fashioned by her
had been accustomed her life long. Nev- own hands, were such as became the
er, except in the dark summer months beauty of the child, and the pure taste
when all ber lite was eclipsed, had Clarice and the little purse of Clarice.
lived unmindful of the old and sick and Never had a childhood so radiant in
helpless, or of the little children . Her beauty, so wonderful in every manifesta
kiudliness of heart could surprise no one ; tion, developed before the cyes of the
her generosity was nothing strange ; her folk of Diver's Bay. He became a won
caution, her industry, her courage, her der to the old and young. Ilis sayings
gentleness, were not traits to which her were repeated. Enchantment seemed
character had been a stranger hitherto . added to mystery ;-anything might have
But now they had a brighter manifesta- been believed of Gabriel.
tion. She became more than ever dili- Sometimes, when she had dressed him
gent in her service ; the Sunday-school in his Sunday suit, and they were alone
was the result of old sentiments in a together, Clarice would put upon his fin
new and intelligent combination ; and ger the pearl ring ,—her marriage ring.
the neighbors, who had always trusted But she kept to herself the name of
Clarice, did not doubt her now. Novelty Luke Merlyn till the time should come
is always pleasing to simple souls among when, a child no longer, he should listen
whom innovation has not first taken the to the story ; and she would not make
pains to excite suspicion of itself. that story grievous for his gentle heart,
For a long time, more than usual un- but sweet and full of hope. Well she
certainty seemed to attend the chances knew how he would listen as none other
of Gabriel's lite. In the close watching could ,—how serious his young face would
and constant care required of Clarice, look when the sacred dawn of aa celestial
the child became so dear to her, that knowledge should begin to break ; then a
doubtless there was some truth in the new day would rise on Gabriel, and noth
word repeated in her hearing with intent ing should separate them then .
to darken any moment of special tender- But, lurking near her joy, and near
ness and joy, that this stranger was her perfect satisfaction, even in the days
6
dearer to her than her “ born relations.” when some result much toiled for seemed
As much as was possible by gentle to give assurance that she was doing well
firmness and constant oversight, Clarice and justly, was the shallow of a doubt.
kept him from hurtful influences. He One day the shadow deepened, and the
was never mixed up in the quarrels of doubt appeared. Clarice was sitting in
ungoverned children ; he never became the doorway, busy at some work for Ga
the victim of their rude sport or cruelty. briel. The boy was playing with Old
She would preserve him peaceful, gentle, Briton, who could amuse him by the
pure ; and in a measure her aim was ac- hour, drawing figures in the sand. Dame
complished. She was the defender, com- Briton was busy performing some house
panion, playmate of the child . She told hold labor, when Bondo Emmins came
him pretty tales, the creations of her fan- rowing in to shore. Gabriel, at the sound
cy, and strove by them to throw a soft of the oars, ran to meet the fisherinan,
illusion around the rough facts of their who had been out all day ; the fisherman
daily life. The mystery surrounding him took the child in his arms, kissed him,
furnished her not meagrely with mate- then placed in his hands a toy which he
rial for her imagination ; she could invent had brought for him from the Point, and
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 829
bade him run and show it to Clarice. not given with malicious purpose, but in
Gabriel set out with shouts, and Emmins proper self-defence; and by the time Cla
went back smiling to look after his boat- rice looked at him, and made him thus
load. speak, Bondo perhaps supposed that he
66
“He's a good runner, ” said Old Briton, had not intended to trouble the poor
watching the child with laughter in his soul. But he could not avoid perceiving
eyes. Dame Briton, drawn to the door that a deep shadow fell upon the face of
by the unusual noise, looked out to see Clarice ; and the conviction of her disa
the little fellow flying into Clarice's arms, pleasure was not removed when she
and she said, softly, “ Pretty creature !” arose and led the child away. But Cla
while she strode back to her toil. rice was not displeased. She was only
Presently, the little flutter of his joy troubled sorely. She asked her surprised
having subsided, Gabriel sat on the door self a dreary question : If anywhere on
step beside Clarice, his eyes seriously earth the child had a living parent, or if
peering into the undiscoverable mystery he had any near of kin to whom his life
of the toy. Then Bondo came ur, and was precious, what right to Gabriel had
the toy was forgotten, the child darting she ? Providence had sent him to her,
away again to meet him . Emmins joined she had often said, with deep thankful
the group with Gabriel in his arms, look- ness ; but now she asked , Had he sent
ing well satisfied. the child that she might restore him not
“ Gabriel is as happy as if this was his only to life, but to others, whom , but for
home in earnest,” said he. He dropped her, death had forever robbed of him ?
the words to try the group. From the day that the shadow of this
“ His home ! ” cried Dame Briton, thought fell across her way, the compos
quickly. Well, a'n't it ? Where then ? ure and deep content of the life of Cla
I wonder .” rice were disturbed. Not merely the
The sharp tone of her voice told that presence of Emmins became a trouble
the dame was not well pleased with Bon- and annoyance, but the praise that her
do's remark ; for the child had found his neighbors were prompt to lavish on Ga
way into her heart, and she would have briel, whenever she went among them,
ruined him by her indulgence, had it became grievous to her cars. The shad
not been for Clarice's constant vigilance. ow which had swept before her eyes
And this was not the least of the dilli- deepened and darkened till it obscured
culties the girl had to contend with. For all the future. She was experiencing all
Dame Briton, you may be sure, though the trouble and difficulty of one who
she might be compelled to yield to her seeks to evade the weight of a truth
daughter's better sense, could never be which has nevertheless surrounded and
constrained by her own child to hold her will inevitably capture her.
tongue, and the arguments with which Nothing of this escaped the eyes of the
she abandoned many of her foolish pur young fisherman. Time should work
poses were almost as fatal to Clarice's for him, he said ; he had shot an arrow ;
attempts at good government as the per- it had hit the mark ; now he would heal
fect accomplishment of these purposes the wound. He might easily have per
would bave been. suaded himself that the wound was acci
Bondo answered her quick interroga- dental, and so have escaped the convic
tory, and the troubled wonder in the tion of injury wrought with intention.
cyes of Clarice, with a confused , “ Of All would have been immediately well
course it is his home ; only I was thinking, with him and Clarice, had it not been for
that, to be sure, they must have come from Clarice ! There are persons, their name
some place, and may -be left friends be- is Legion , who are as wanton in offence
hind tbem ." as Bondo Emmins, - whose souls are
Now it seemed as if this answer were black with murderous records of hopes
830 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ May ,
they have destroyed ; yet they will con VIII .
dole with the mourners !
To this doubt as to her duty, this eva- CLARICE was half annoyed at this in
sion of knowledge concerning it, this si- terference ; it seemed to suppose, she
lence in regard to what chiefly occupied thought, that she was unequal to the
her conscience, was added a new trouble. management of her own affairs . — But
As Gabriel grew older, a restless, ad- was she equal to it ?
Penturous spirit began to manifest itself After Bondo had walked away, she
in him . From a distance regarding the called to Gabriel, who stood alone when
daring feats of other children , his im- the other children bad deserted him , and
pulse was to follow and imitate them . knew not what to do. He would have
At times, in ungovernable outbreaks of run away, had he not been afraid of
merriment, he would escape from the fisherman Emmins.
side of Clarice, with fleet, daring steps “ Come herc, my son ,” said Clarice .
which seemed to set her pleasure at de- She did not speak very loud, nor in the
fiance ; and when, after his first exploit, least sternly ; but he heard her quite
which filled ber with astonishment, she distinctly, and he hesitated.
66
prepared to join him in his sport, and “ I'm not your son ! ” he concluded to
answer.
did follow , laughing, a wilfulness, which
made her tremble, roused to resist her, A sword through the heart of Clarice
and gave an almost tragic ending to the would have killed her, but there are
play. pains which do not slay that are worse
One day she missed the lad . Search- than the pains of death . Clarice Brit
ing for him, she found that he had gone on's face was pale with anguish, when
out in a boat with other children, among she arose and said , -
whom he sat like a little king, giving his “ Gabriel, come here ! ”
orders, which the rest were obeying with The child saw something awful in her
shouted repetitions. When Clarice called eyes, and heard in her voice something
to him , and begged the children to re- that made him tremble. He came, and
turn, he followed their example, took off sat down in the place to which Clarice
his cap, and waved it at her, in defiance, pointed. It was a hard moment for her.
with the rest. Other word bitter as this, which disowned
Clarice sat down on the shore in de- her love and care and defied her author
spair. Bitter tears ran down her cheeks. ity, the child could not have spoken.
Bondo Emmins passed by, and saw She answered him as if he had not been
what was going on. “ Ho ! ho ! Clarice a child ; and aa truth wbich no words could
needs some one to help her hold the have made him comprehend seemed to
rein,” said he to himself; and going to break upon and overwhelm him , while
the water's edge, he raised his voice, and she spoke.
beckoned the children ashore. He en- “ It is true, ” she said , " you are not my
forced the gesture by a word , — “ Come son . I have no right to call you mine.
home ! ” Listen, Gabriel, while I tell you how it
The little rebels did not wait a second happens that you live with me, and I
summons, but obeyed the strong voice of take care of you, as if you were my
the strong man, trembling. They pad- child. I was down at the Point one day,
dled the boat to the shore, and landed —that place where we go to watch the
quite crestfallen, ashamed , it seemed. birds, you know, my — Gabriel. While I
Then Bondo, baving bid the youngsters sat there alone, I saw a plank that was
disperse, with a threat, if he ever saw dashed by the waves up and down, as
them engaged in the like business, walk- you see a boat carried when the wind
ed away, without speaking to Gabriel, blows hard and sounds so terrible ; but
or even looking at him . there was nobody to take care of that
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 831

plank except God ,—and He, oh, He, is Could she bear this blessed burden safely
always able to take care ! When that to the end ?
plank was washed near to the shore, I Sometimes, for a moment, it may bave
stepped out on the rocks and caught it seemed to Clarice that Bondo Emmins
and then I saw that a little child was tied could alone help her effectually out of
fast to it ; so I knew that some one must her bewilderment and perplexity. She
have thrown him into the water, boping had not now the missionary with whom
that he would be picked up. I do not to consult, in whose wisdom to confide;
know what they who threw the little child and Bondo had a marvellous influence
into the sea called him ; but I, who found over the child .
bim, called him Gabriel, and I carried He was disposed to take advantage of
him, all dripping with the salt sea-water, that influence, as he gave evidence, not
to my father's cabin. I laid him on my long after the exhibition of his control
bed, and my mother and I never stopped over the boat- load of delinquents, by ask
trying to waken him, till he opened his ing Clarice if she were never going to
eyes ; for he lay just like one who never reward his constancy. He seemed at
meant to open his eyes or speak again. this timc desirous of bringing himself be
At last my mother said, Clarice, I fore her as an object of compassion, if
feel his heart beat !' and I said in my nothing better ; but she, having heard
6
heart, “ If it please God to spare his life, him patiently to the end of what he had
I will work for him, and take care of to urge in his own behalf and that of
him, and be a mother to him.' And I her parents, replied in words that were
thought, “ He will surely love me always,
certainly of the moment's inspiration,
because God has sent him to me, and I and almost beyond her will ; for Clarice
have taken him, and have loved him .' had been of late so much troubled, no
But now he has left me ! He is mine no wonder if she should mistake expedi
more ! And oh, how I bave loved him ! ” ency for right.
Long before this story was ended , “ I am married already,” she said .
tears were running down Gabriel's face, “ You see this ring. Do you not know
and he was drawing closer and closer to what it has meant to me, Bondo, since I
Clarice. When she ceased speaking, he first put it on ? Death, as you call it,
hid his face in her lap and cried aloud, cannot part Luke Merlyn and me.
according to the boisterous privilege of * Heart and hand,' he said . Can I forget
childhood . it ? My hand is free, — but he holds
“ Oh, mother, dear mother, I haven't it ; and my heart is his.—But I can
gone away ! I'm here ! I do love you ! serve you better than you ask for, Bon
I am your little boy !” do Emmins. You learned the name of
“ Gabriel ! Gabriel ! it was terrible ! the vessel that sailed from Havre and
terrible !” burst from Clarice, with a was lost. Take a voyage. Go to France.
groan , and a flood of tears. See if Gabriel has any friends there
“ Oh, don't, mother ! Call me your who have a right to him , and will serve
boy ! Don't say, Gabriel! Don't cry ! " him better than I can ; and if he has
So he found his way through the door such friends, I myself will take Gabriel
of the heart that stood wide open for to them . Yes, I will do it. — You will
him. Storm and darkness had swept in, love a sailor's life, Bondo. You were
if he had not. born for that. Diver's Bay is not the
The reconciliation was perfect; but place for you. I have long seen it.
the shadow that had obscured the future The sea will serve you better than I
deepened that obscurity after this day's ever could . Go, and Clarice will thank
experience. If her right to the lad you . Oh, Bondo, I beg you ! ”
needed no vindication, was she capable At these words the man so appealed
of the attempted guidance and care ? to became scarlet. He seemed re
832 The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. [ May,
flect on what Clarice had said ,-seriously “ You knew about it all the while . "
to ponder ; but his amazement at her “ Not the whole, ” said he, — " that you
words had almost taken away his power were married to Luke, as you say " ; and
of speech. the fisherman looked hastily around him ,
“ The Gabriel sailed from Havre ,” said as if he had expected to see the veritable
he, slowly. “ If I went out as a deck- Luke.
hand in the next ship that sails ” . “ It isn't to get rid ofyou, then, Bondo, ”
“ Yes !” Clarice explained ; “ but I read in the
“ To scour the country — I hope I Book you don't think much of, but it's
shan't find what I look for ; you couldn't everything to me, If ye have not been
live without him.— Very likely you will faithful in that which is another man's,
think me a fool for my pains. You will who shall give you that which is your
not give me yourself. You would have own ? So you see, I am a little selfish in
me take away the lad from you .” — He it all ; for I want peace of mind, and I
looked at Clarice as if his words passed never shall have peace till it is settled
his belief. about Gabriel ; if I must give him up, I
“ Yes, only do as I say , —for I know can ."
it must be the best for us all. There is Bondo Emmins looked at Clarice with a
nothing else to be done, -no other way strange look, as she spoke these words ,
to live .” so faltering in spcech, so resolute in soul.
“ France is a pretty big country to hunt “ And if I'm faithful orer another
orer for a man whose name you don't man's," said he, “better the chance of
know,” said Emmins, after a little pause. getting my own, ch ? But I wonder what
“ You can find what passengers sailed my own is. "
in the Gabriel,” answered Clarice , eager 66
Everything that you can earn and
to remove every difficulty, and ready to enjoy honestly ,” replicd Clarice.
contend with any that could possibly Emmins rose up quickly at these words.
arise . “ The vessel was a merchant- He walked off aa few paces without speak
man . Such vessels don't take out many ing. His face was gloomy and sullen as
passengers . — Besides, you will see the a sky full of tornadoes when he turned
world. It is for everybody's sake ! Not his back on Clarice,-hardly less so when
for mine only,—no, truly,—no, indeed ! he again approached her.
May -be if another person around here “ I am no fool, ” said he, as he drew
had found Gabriel , they would never near. – From his tone one could hardly
have thought of trying to find out who have guessed that his last impulse was to
he - belonged to." strike the woman to whom he spoke.— “ I
“ I guess so,” replied Bondo, with a know what you mean. You haven't sent
quecr look . 6
Only now be honest, Cla- me on a fool's errand. Good bye. You
rice ; it's to get rid of me, isn't it ? But won't see me again, Clarice—till I come
you needn't take that trouble. If you back from France. Time enough to talk
had only told me right out about Luke about it then .”
Merlyn He did not offer to take her hand
While Bondo Emmins spoke thus, when he had so spoken, but was off be
his face had unconsciously the very fore Clarice could make any reply.
expression one sees on the face of the Clarice thought that she should see
boy whose foot hovers a moment above him again ; but he went away without
the worm he means to crush . The boy speaking to any other person of his pur
does not expect to see the worm change pose ; and when wonder on account of
to a butterfly just then and there, and his absence began to find expression in
mount up before his very eyes toward her father's house, and elsewhere, it was
the empyrean. Neither did Bondo Em- she who must account for it. People
mins anticipate her quiet thereat praised him for his good heart,
1858.] The Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay. 833

and made much of his generosity, and speedily forget the wonderful boy ; the
wondered if this voyage were not to be boats never went out but those who
rewarded by the prize for which he had rowed them thought about the child ; the
sought openly so long. Old Briton and gatherers of sea-weed never went to their
his dame inclined to that opinion. work but they looked for some token of
But in the week following that of bis · him ; and for Clarice ,—let us say nothing
departure there was a great stir and ex- of her just bere. What woman needs to
citement among the people of the Bay. be told how that woman watched and
Little Gabriel was missing. A search, waited and mourned ?
that began in surprise when Clarice
returned home from some errand, was
IX .
continued with increasing alarm all day,
and night descended amid the general Few events ever occurred to disturb
conviction that the child was drowned . the tranquillity of the people of Diver's
Ile had been seen at play on the shore. Bay. People wore out and dropped
No one could possibly furnish a more away, as the old fishing -boats did ,-and
reasonable explanation. Every one had new ones took their place.
something to say, of course, and Clarice Old Briton crumbled and fell to pieces,
listened to all, turning to one speaker while he watched for the return of Bon
after another with increasing despair. do Emmins. And Clarice buried her
Not one of them could restore the child old mother. She was then left alone in
to life, if he was dead. the cabin , with the reminiscences of a
There was a suspicion in her heart hard lot around her. The worn -out gar
which she shared with none. It flashed ments, and many rude traces of rough
upon her, and there was no rest after, toil, and the toys, few and simple, which
until she had satisfied herself of its in- had belonged to Gabriel, constituted her
justice. She went alone by night to treasures. What was before her ? A life
town, and made her way fearlessly down of labor and of watching; and Clarice
to the harbor to learn if any vessel had was growing older every day.
sailed that day, and when the last ship Her hair turned gray ere she was old.
sailed for Havre. The answers to the The hopes that had specially concerned
inquiries she made convinced her that her had failed her,-all of them. She
Bondo Emmins must have sailed for surveyed her experience, and said, weigh
France the day after his last conversa ing the result, the more need that she
tion with her. should strive to avert from others the
By daylight Clarice was again on the evils they might bring upon themselves,
shore of Diver's Bay, there to renew a so that, when the Lord should smite them,
search which for weeks was not aban- they, too, might be strong. The mission
doned . Gabriel had a place in many a ary had long since left this field of labor
rough man's heart, and the women of the and gone to another, and his place at Di
Bay knew well enough that he was un- ver's Bay was unfilled by a new preacher.
like all other children1 ‫ ;ܪ‬and though it The more need, then, of her. Remem
did not please them well that Clarice bering her lost child, she taught the chil
should keep him so much to herself, they dren of others. She taught them to read
still adinired the result of such seclu- and sew and knit, and, what was more
sion, and praised his beauty and won- important, taught them obedience and
derful cleanliness, as though these tokens thankfulness, and endeavored to inspire
of her care were really beyond the com- in them some reverence and faith . The
mon range of things, -attainable, in spite Church did not fall into ruin there.
of all she could say, by no one but Cla- I wish that I might write here, -it were
rice Briton , and for no one but Gabriel. so easy, if it were but true !—that Bondo
These fishermen and their wives did not Emmins came back to Diver's Bay in
VOL. I. 53
834 Camille. [May,
one of those long years during which she found no mother but thee in all the world ,
was looking for him, and that he came am here, in thy place, to strive as thou
scourged by conscience to ask forgiveness didst for the ignorant and the helpless
of his diabolic vengeance. and unclean , " he had thrown his arms
I wish that I might write ,—which were around her living presence, and vowed
far easier, if it were but fact,—that all the that vow in spite of Bondo Emmins, and
patience and courage of the Pure Heart all the world beside.
of Diver's Bay, all the constancy that But it seems that the gate is strait,
sought to bring order and decency and and the path is ever narrow , and the
reverence into the cabins there, met at bill is difficult. And the kinds of victory
last with another external reward than are various, and the badges of the con
merely beholding, as the children grew querors are not all one. And the pure
up to their duties and she drew near to heart can wear its pearl as purely, and
death, the results of all her teaching ; more safely , in the heavens, where the
that those results were attended by wbite array is spotless ,—where the deso
another, also an external reward ; that late heart shall be no more forsaken ,
the youth , who came down like an angel –where the BrideGROOM , who stands
to fill her place when she was gone , had waiting the Bride, says, “ Come, for all
walked into her house one morning, and things are now ready !” — where the Sox
surprised her, as the Angel Gabriel once makes glad. Pure Pearl of Diver's Bay !
surprised the world , by his glad tidings. not for the cheap sake of any mortal ro
I wish, that, instead of kneeling down mance will I grieve to write that He has
beside her grave in the sand, and vow- plucked thee from the deep to re
ing there, “ Oh, mother ! I, who have thee among His pearls of price.

CAMILLE .

I BORE my mystic chalice unto Earth

With vintage which no lips of hers might name ;
Only, in token of its alien birth ,
Love crowned it with his soft, immortal flame,
And, 'mid the world's wille sound,
Sacred reserves and silences breathed round,
A spell to keep it pure from low acclaim .

With joy that dulled me to the touch of scorn,

I served ;-not knowing that of all life's deeds
Service was first ; nor that high powers are born
In humble uses. Fragrance-folding seeds
Must so through flowers expand,
Then die. God witness that I blessed the Hand
Which laid upon my heart such golden needs !

And yet I felt, through all the blind, sweet ways

Of life, for some clear shape its dreams to blend, -
Some thread of holy art, to knit the days
Each unto each, and all to some fair end,
1858.] Camille . 835

Which, through unmarked removes,

Should draw me upward, even as it behooves
One whose deep spring -tides from His heart descend .

To swell some 'vast refrain beyond the sun,

The very weed breathed music from its sod ;
And night and day in ceaseless antiphon
Rolled off through windless arches in the broad
Abyss. — Thou saw'st I, too,
Would in my place have blent accord as true,
And justified this great enshrining, God !
Dreams !-Stain it on the bending amethyst,
That one who came with visions of the Princ
For guide somehow her radiant pathway misseıl,
And wandered in the darkest gulf of Time.
No deed divine thenceforth
Stood royal in its far-related worth ;
No god , in truth, might hcal the wounded chime

Oh, how ? I darkly ask ;—and if I dare

Take up thought from this tumultuous street
To the forgotten Silence soaring there
Above the hiving roofs, its calm depths meet
My glance with no reply.
Might I go back and spell this mystery
In the new stillness at my mother's feet,
I would recall with importunings long
That so sad soul, once pierced as with a knife,
And cry , Forgive ! Oh, think Youth's tide was strong,
And the full torrent, shut from brain and life,
Plunged through the heart, until
It rocked to madness, and the o'erstrained will
Grew wild, then weak, in the despairing strife !
And ever I think, What warning voice should call,
Or show me bane from food , with tedious art,
When love—the perfect instinct, flower of all
Divinest potencies of choice, whose part
Was set 'mid stars and flaine
To keep the inner place of God — became
A blind and ravening tever of the heart ?

I laugh with scorn that men should think them praised

In women's love,-chance-Aung in weary hours,
By sickly fire to bloated worship raised !
O long-lost dream , so sweet of vernal flowers !
Wherein I stood , it seemed,
And gave a gift of queenly inark !—I dreamed
* Of Passion's joy aglow in rounded powers.
836 The llundred Days. [ May,
I dreamed The roar, the tramp, the burdened air
Pour round their sharp and subtle mockery.
Here go the eager-footed men ; and there
The costly beggars of the world foat by ;
Lilies, that toil nor spin,
How should theyknow so well the weft of sin,
And hide me from them with such sudden eye ?

But all the roaming crowd begins to make

A whirl of humming shade ;—for, since the day
Is done, and there's no lower step to take,
Life drops me here. Some rough, kind hand, I pray,
Thrust the sad wreck aside,
And shut the door on it !-a little pride,
That I may not offend whopass this way .

And this is all !—Oh, thou wilt yet give heed !

No soul but trusts some late redeeming care, —
But walks the narrow plank with bitter speed,
And, straining through the sweeping mist of air,
In the great tempest-call,
And greater silence deepening through it all,
Refuses still, refuses to despair !

Some further end, whence thou refitt'st with aim

Bewildered souls, perhaps ? -Some breath in me,
By thee, the purest, found devoid of blame,
Fit for large teaching ? -Look !-I cannot see ,
I can but feel l-Far off,
Life seethes and frets, —and from its shame and scoff
I take my broken crystal up to thec.

THE HUNDRED DAYS.

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES .

[ Concluded. )

The most remarkable event of the tion and legalize his second accession to
“ Hundred Days " was the celebrated the throne, and pledge itself, by solemn
“ Champ de Mai,” where Napoleon met adjuration , to preserve the sovereignty
deputies from the Departments, and dis- of his family. It was a day of wholesale
tributed eagles to representatives of his swearing, and the deputies uttered any
forces. He intended it as an assembly quantity of oaths of eternal fidelity, which
of the French people, which should sanc- they barely kept three weeks. The dis
1858.] The Hundred Days. 837

tribution of the eagles was the only real time. I was frequently present when he
was reviewing troops, but either he or
and interesting part of the performance,
and the deep sympathy between both they were in motion, and I had to catch
parties was very evident. The Emperor a glimpse of him as opportunities offer
stood in the open field, on a raised plat- ed. At this time, as he passed through
form , from which a broad flight of steps the Champs Elysées, I stood among my
descended ; and pages of his household friends, the soldiers, who lined the way,
were continually running up and down, and who suffered me to remain where a
communicating with the detachments man would not have been tolerated. IIe
from various branches of the army, which was escorted by the Horse Grenadiers of
passed in front of him, halting for a mo the Guard . His four brothers preceded
inent to receive the eagles and give the him in one carriage, while he sat alone
oath defend them . in a state coach, all glass and gold, to
I was present during the whole of this which pages clung wherever they could
latter ceremony. Through the forbcar- find footing. He was splendidly attired,
ance of a portion of the Imperial Guard, and wore a Spanish hat with drooping
into whose ranks I obtruded myself, I had feathers. As he moved slowly through
a very favorable position, and felt that in the crowd, he bowed to the right and
this part of the day's work there was no left, not in the hasty, abrupt way wbich
sham . is generally attributed to him, but in a
I would here bear testimony to the calm , dignified, though absent manner.
character of those veterans known as the His face was one not to be forgotten . I
“ Old Guard .” I frequently came in con- saw it repeatedly ; but whenever I bring
tact with individuals of them, and liked it up, it comes before me, not as it ap
80 well to talk with them, that I never peared from the window of the Tuileries,
lost a chance of making their acquaint- or when riding among his troops, or when
ance . One, who was partial to me be- standing, with folded arms or his hands
cause I was an American , had served in behind him, as they defiled before him ;
this country with Rochambeau, had fought but it rises on my vision as it looked that
under the eye of Washington, and was morning, under the nodding plumes, –
at the surrender of Cornwallis. He had smooth, massive, and so tranquil, that it
borne his share in the vicissitudes of the scemed impossible a storm of passion
Republic, the Consulate, and the Empire. could ever ruffle it. The complexion
He was scarred with wounds, and his was clear olive, without a particle of col
breast was decorated with the cross of or, and no trace was on it to indicate
the Legion of Honor, which he con- what agitated the man within . The re
sidered an ample equivalent for all his pose of that marble countenance told
services. My intercourse with these old nothing of the past, nor of anxiety for the
soldiers confirmed what has been said of deadly struggle that awaited him. The
them , that they were singularly mild and cheering sounds around him did not
courteous. There was a gentleness of change it ; they fell on an ear that heard
manner about them that was remarkable. them not. His eye glanced on the mul
They had seen too much service to boast titudes; but it saw them not. There was
of it, and they left the bragging to young. more machinery than soul in the recog
er men . Terrible as they were on the nition, as his head instinctively swayed
field of battle, they seemed to have adopt- towards them . The idol of stone was
ed as a rule of conduct, that there, joyless and impassive amidst its
worshippers, taking its lifeless part in
' In peace, there's nothing so becomes a man this last pageant. But the thinking, ac
As modest stillness and humility ."
tive man was elsewhere, and return
On this memorable day, I saw Napo ed only when he found himself in the
leon more distinctly than at any other presence of delegated France, and in the
838 The Hundred Days. [May,
more congenial occupation which suc- tendants, and it was whispered that our
ceeded . army had been defeated .” That my
Immediately after this event, all the companions did not seek relief at the
available troops remaining in Paris were bottom of the river can be ascribed only
sent toward the Belgian frontier, and in to their entire disbelief of the gendarme's
a few days were followed by the Em-. story. But, as they returned home, dis
peror. Then came an interval of anx- cussing his words at every step, fears be
ious suspense, which Rumor, with her gan to steal over them when they reflect
thousand tongues, occupied to the best ed how seriously he talked and how
of her ability. I was in the country sorrowful he looked .
when news of the first collision arrived, The gendarme spoke the truth. Na
and a printed sheet was sent to the poleon was in Paris. His army no longer
château where I was visiting, with an existed , and his star had been blotted
account of the defeat of the Prussians at from the heavens. His plans, wonder
Ligny and the retreat of the British at fully conceived, had been indifferently
Quatre Bras. Madame Ney was staying executed ; a series of blunders, beyond
in the vicinity ; and, as the Marshal had bis control, interrupted his combinations,
taken an active part in the engagement, and delay in important movements, add
I was sent to communicate to her the vic- cd to the necessity of meeting two ene
tory. She was ill, and I gave the mes- mies at the same moment, destroyed the
sage to a lady, her connection, much centralization on which he had depended
pleased to be the bearer of such wel- for overthrowing both in succession . The
come intelligence. I returned that day orders he sent to his Marshals were inter
to Paris, and found my schoolmates in cepted, and they were left to an un
the highest exhilaration. Every hour certainty which prevented any unity of
brought confirmation of a decisive vic- action. The accusation of treason, some
tory. It was thought that the great bat- times brought against them, is false and
tle of the campaign had been fought, and ungenerous; and the insinuations of Na
that the French had only to follow up polcon himself were unworthy of him.
their advantage. Letters from officers They may have erred in judgment, but
were published, representing that the they acted as they thought expedient,
Allies were thoroughly routed, and de- and they never showed nore devotion to
scribing the conflict so minutely, that their country and to their chief than on
there could be no doubt of the result. the fatal day of Waterloo.
All was now joy and congratulation ; and I have been twice over that field, and
conjectures were freely made as to the have heard remarks of military men,
terms to be vouchsafed to the conquered, which have only convinced me that it is
and the boundary limits which should be easier to criticize a battle than to fight
assigned to the territory of France. one . Had Grouchy, with his thirty
A day or two after this, we made a thousand men, joined the Emperor, the
customary visit to a swimming - school on British would have been destroyed. But
the Seine, and some of us entered into he stopped at Wavre, to fight, as he sup
conversation with the gendarme, or po- posed, the whole Prussian army, thinking
lice soldier, placed there to preserve or- to do good service by keeping it from
der. He was very reserved and unwil- the main battle. Blücher outwitted him,
ling to say much ; but, at last, when we and, leaving ten thousand men to de
dwelt on the recent successes, he shook ceive and keep him in check, hurried on
his head mournfully, and said he feared to turn the scale. The fate of both con
there had been some great disaster ; add- tending hosts rested on the cloud of dust
ing, “ The Emperor is in Paris. I saw that arose on the eastern horizon, and
him alight from his carriage this morn- the eyes of Napoleon and Wellington
ing, when on duty ; he had very few at- watched its approach, knowing that it
1858.] The Hundred Days. 839

brought victory or defeat. The one was already exhausted the resources of France
still precipitating his impetuous columns in his preparations for this one campaign ;
on the sometimes penetrated, but never that the masses of Austria and Russia
broken, squares of infantry, which seem- were advancing in hot haste, which, with
ed rooted to the earth, and which, though the rallied remains of Prussia, and the
torn by shot and shell, and harassed by indomitable perseverance and uncompro
incessant charges of cavalry, closed their mising hostility of England, quickened
thinned ranks with an obstinacy and de- by a reversc of her arms, would have
terinination such as he had never before presented an array against which he
encountered . The other stood amidst could have bad no chance of success.
the growing grain, seeing his army wast- The hour of utter ruin would only have
ing away before those terrible assaults; been procrastinated, involving still greater
and when the officers around him saw waste of life, and augmenting the desola
inevitable ruin , unless the order for re- tion which for so many years had been
treat was given, he tore up the unripened the fate of Europe.
corn , and, grinding it between his hands, Yes, Napoleon was in Paris , -a gen
groaned out, in his agony, “ Oh, that cral without soldiers, and a sovereign
Blücher, or night, would come ! ” without subjects. The prestige of his
The last tiine I was at Waterloo, name was gone ; and had the Chamber
many years ago, the guide who accom- of Deputies invested him with the Dicta
panied me told me, that, a short time be- torship, as was suggested, it would have
fore, a man , whose appearance was that been . “ a barren sceptre in his gripe,”
of a substantial farmer, and who was fol- and the utmost stretch of power could
lowed by an attendant, called on him for not have collected materials to meet the
his services. The guide went his usual impending invasion. At no period did
round, making his otten -repeated remarks heshow such irresolution as at this time.
and commenting severely on Grouchy. He tendered his abdication, and it was
The stranger examined the ground at- accepted. He offered his services as a
tentively, and only occasionally replied, soldier, and they were declined. He had
saying, “ Grouchy received no orders. ” ceased, for the moment, to be anything to
At last, the servant fell back , detaining France. Yet he lingered for days about
the guide, and, in a low tone, said to the capital , the inhabitants of which were
him , “ Speak no more about Marshal too intent in gazing at the storm , ready
Grouchy, for that is be.” The man told to burst upon them , to be mindful of his
me, that, after that, he abstained from existence. There was , however, one ex
saying anything offensive ; but that he ception. The boys were still faithful to
watched carefully the soldier's agitation, him , and were more interested in his po
as the various positions of the battle be- sition than in that of the enemy at their
came apparent to him . He, doubtless, saw gates.
9

how little would have turned the current There was a show of resistance. The
of the fight, and knew that the means of fragments of the army of Belgium gath
doing it had been in his own hands. The cred round Paris; the National Guard ,
guide seemed much impressed with the or militia of the city, was marched out ;
deep feeling of the Marshal, and said to and the youth of the colleges were fur
me, “ I will never speak ill of him again.” nished with field -pieces and artillery offi
The battle of Waterloo is often men- cers, who drilled them into very effective
tioned as the sole cause of Napoleon's cannoncers, and they took naturally to
downfall ; and it is said, that, had he the business, pronouncing it decidedly
gained that day, he would have secured better fun than hard study. They were
bis throne. It seems to be forgotten that of an age which is full of animal courage,
a complete victory would have left him and their only fear was a peremptory
with weakened forces, and that he had order from parents or guardians to leave
840 The Hundred Days. [May ,
college and return home. Some of my and were divided among the inhabitants,
school-fellows, anticipating such an in- some Prussian cavalry soldiers were quar
junction, joined the camp outside the tered on us. Collisions occasionally took
city, and saw service enough to talk about place between them and the scholars ;
for the remainder of their lives. and in one instance, one of them entered
One morning, I was at the Lyceum , a study -room in an insulting manner, and
where all were prepared for an immediate in consequence thereof made a progress
order to march , and each one was mak- from the top of the stairs to the bottom
ing his last arrangements. No person with a celerity that would have done
could have supposed that these young credit to his regiment in a charge. His
men expected to be engaged, within a comrades armed themselves to avenge
few hours, in mortal combat. They were the indignity, and the students, eager for
in the highest spirits, and looked forward the fray, sallied out to meet them with
to the hoped -for battle as though it were pistols and fencing-foils, the latter with
to be the most amusing thing imagina- buttons snapped off and points sharp
ble. While I was there, a false report ened. There was hopeful pronrise of a
came in that Napoleon had resumed the very respectable skirmish ; but it was
command of the army. The excitement nipped in the bud by the interposition
instantly rose to fever-heat, and the dem- of our peace-making instructors, aided
onstration told what hold he still had on by the authority of a Prussian officer.
these his steadfast friends. From our When the affair was over, some won
der was expressed why our fire -eating
position the rear of the army was but a
military attendant bad not given us his
short distance, while the advanced por-
professional services; and, on search be
tions of it were engaged. Versailles had
ing made, we found him snugly stowed
been entered by the Allies, who were
away in a hole under the stairs, where
attacked and driven out by the French
under Vandamme. The cannonade was he had crept on the first announcement
at one time as continuous as the roll of of hostilities. He afterwards confessed
a drum . Prisoners were guarded through to me that he was a coward , and that no
the streets, and wagons, conveying wound- one could imagine what he had suffered
ed men , were continually passing. in his agonies of fear during his various
Stragglers from the routed army of campaigns. Yet he came very near be
Waterloo were to be met in all direc- ing rewarded for extraordinary valor and
tions, many of them disabled by their coolness. His regiment was advancing
pursuers, or the fatigues of a hurried on the enemy, and as he was mechan
retreat. Pride was forgotten in ex- ically beating the monotonous pas de
treme misery, and they were grateful charge, not knowing whether he was on
for any attention or assistance. One his head or his heels, a shot cut the band
of them was taken into our institution by which his drum was suspended , and
as a servant. He had been in the ar- as it fell, he caught it, and without stop
my eighteen years, fifteen of which he ping, held it in one hand while he con
had served as drummer. He had been tinued to beat the charge with the other.
in some of the severest battles, had gone An officer of rank saw the action, and
through the Russian campaign, and was riding up, said, “ Your name, brave fel
among the few of his regiment who sur- low ? You shall have the cross of honor
vived the carnage of Waterloo. And for that gallant deed.” He told me he
yet this man , who had been familiar with really did not know what he was doing ;
death more than half his life, and who at he was too frightened to think about
times talked as though he were a perfect anything. But he added, that it was a
tornado in the field , was as arrant a pol- pity the general was killed in that very
troon as ever skulked. battle, as it robbed him of the promised
After the Allied Troops entered Paris, decoration.
1858.] The Hundred Days. 841

I mention this incident as an evidence companied by foreign soldiers. I saw

of what diversified materials an army is him pass the Boulevard, and I then bast
composed, and that the instruments of ened across the Garden to await his arri
military despotism are not necessarily val at the Tuileries, standing near the
endowed with personal courage, the dis- spot where, three months before, I had
cipline of the mass compensating for in- seen Napoleon. The tricolor was no
dividual imperfection. It also gives evi- longer there, but the white flag again
dence that luck has much to do in the floated over the place so full of historical
fortunes of this world , and that many a recollections. Louis XVIII. soon reached
man who “ bears his blushing honors this ancestral abode of his family, and
thick upon him ”” would as poorly stand a having mounted, with some difficulty and
scrutiny as to the means by which they expenditure of. breath, to the second
were acquired, as our friend , the drum- story, he waddled into the balcony which
mer, had he been enabled to strut about, overlooked the crowd silently waiting
in piping times of peace, with a strip of for the expected speech, and, leaning
red ribbon at his button-hole. ponderously on the railing, he kissed his
While preparations were making for hand, and said , in a loud voice, “ Good
the defence of Paris, and the alarmed day, my children.” This was the exor
citizens feared, what was at one time dium, body, and peroration of his address,
threatened, that the defenders would be and it struck his audience so ludicrously,
driven in, and the streets become a scene that a laugh spread among them, until it
of warfare, involving all conditions in became general, and all seemed in the best
the chances of indiscriminate massacre, possible humor. The King laughed, too,
the powers that were saw the futility evidently regarding his reception as highly
of resistance, and opening negotiations flattering. The affair turned out well, for
with the enemy, closed the war by ca- the multitude parted in a merry mood,
pitulation. Whatever relief this may considering his Majesty rather a jolly old
have been to the people generally, it gentleman , and making sundry compari
was a sad blow to the martial ardor of sons between hiin and the late tenant,
my schoolmates. Their opinion of the illustrative of the difference between
transaction was expressed in language King Stork and King Log.
by no means complimentary to their Paris was crowded with foreign sol
temporary rulers. To lose such an op- diers. The streets swarmed with them ;
their encampments filled the public gar
portunity for a fight was a height of ab-
surdity for which treason and cowardice dens ; they drilled in the open squares
were inadequate terms. Their military and on the Boulevards ; their sentinels
stood everywhere. Their presence was
visions melted away , the field -pieces were
wheeled off, the arıny officers bade thema perpetual commentary on the vanity
farewell, they were required to deliver of that glory which is dependent on the
up their arms, and they found themselves sword. They gazed at triumphal monu
back again to their old bondage, reduced ments erected to commemorate battles
to the inglorious necessity of attending which had subjected their own countries
prayers and learning lessons. to the iron rule of conquest. They stood
The Hundred Days were over. The by columns on which the history of their
Allies once more poured into France, defeat was cast from their captured
and in their train came back the poor, cannon , and by arches whose friezes
despised, antiquated Bourbons, identify- told a boastful tale of their subjugation.
ing themselves with the common enemy, They passed over bridges whose names
and becoming a byword and a reproach, reininded them of fields which had wit
which were to cling to them until they nessed their headlong rout. They stroll
should be driven into hopeless banish- ed through galleries where the master
ment. The King reëntered Paris, ac- pieces of art hung as memorials that
842 The Hundred Days. [May,
their political existence had been de- there was no apprehension that revenge
pendent on the will of a victorious foe. would demand an atonement. But hard
Attempts were made to destroy these ly had the Bourbons recommenced their
trophies of national degradation ; but, in reign, when, in utter disregard of the
soine instances, the skill of the architect faith of treaties, they sought satisfaction
and the fidelity of the builder were an for their late precipitate flight in assail
overmatch for the hasty ire of an incensed ing those who had been instrumental in
soldiery, and withstood the attacks until
causing it. Many of their intended vic
admiration for the work brought shame tims found safety in foreign lands. La
on their efforts to demolish it. bedoyère, who joined the Emperor with
But for the Parisians there was a ca- his regiment, was tried and executed.
lamity in reserve, which sank deeper Lavalette was condemned, but escaped
into their souls than the fluttering of through the heroism of his wife and the
hostile banners in their streets, or the generous devotion of three Englishmen.
clanging tread of an armed enemy on Ney was shot in Paris. I would dwell
their door -stones. It was decided that a moment on his fate, not only because
the Gallery of the Louvre should be de- circumstances gave me a peculiar in
spoiled , and that the works of art, which terest in it, but from the fact that it
had been collected from all nations, had more effect in drawing a dividing
making that receptacle the marvel of line between the royal family and the
the age, should be restored to their le- French people than any event that oc
gitimate owners. A wail went up from curred during their reign. It was treas
the universal heart of France at this sad ured up with a hate that found no fit
judgment. It was felt that this great loss utterance until the memorable Three
would be irreparable. Time, the sooth- Days of 1830 ; and when the insurgents
er of all sorrow , might restore her worn stormed the Tuileries, their cries bore
encrgies, recruit her wasted population, evidence that fifteen years had not di
corer her fields with abundance, and, minished the bitter feeling engendered
turning the activity of an intelligent peo- by that vindictive, unnecessary, and most
ple into industrial channels, clothe her impolitic act.
with renewed wealth and power. But During the Hundred Days, and shortly
the magnificence of that collection, once before the battle of Waterloo, I was, one
departed, could never cometo her again ; Sunday afternoon, in the Luxembourg
and the lover of beauty, instead of find- Garden, where the fine weather had
ing under one roof whatever genius had brought out many of the inbabitants of
created for the worship of the ages, would that quarter. The lady I was accompa
have to wander over all Europe, seeking nying remarked, aswe walked among the
in isolated and widely-separated positions crowd, “ There is Marshal Ney.” He had
the riches which at the Louvre were joined the promenaders, and his object
strewed before him in congregated prod- seemed to be, like that of the others, to
igality. But lamentations were in vain. enjoy an hour of recreation. Probably
The miracles of human inspiration were the next time he crossed those walks was
borne to the congenial climes which orig- on the way to the place of his execution,
inated them , to have, in all after time, which was between the Garden and the
the tale of their journeyings an insepara- Boulevard . At the time of his confine
ble appendage to their history, and even ment and trial at the Luxembourg Palace,
their intrinsic merit to derive additional the gardens were closed. I usually pass
lustre from the perpetual boast, that they ed through them twice a week, but was
had been considered worthy a place in now obliged to go round them . Early
the Gallery of Napoleon. one morning, I stopped at the room of
In the general amnesty which formed a medical student, in the vicinity, and,
an article in the capitulation of Paris, while there, heard a discharge of mus
1858.] The Hundred Days. 843

ketry. We wondered at it, but could at Waterloo, as he led on the Imperial

not conjecture its cause ; and although Guard to their last charge, when five
we spoke of the trial of Marshal Ney, we horses were shot under him , and his
had so little reason to suppose that his uniform , riddled by balls, hung about
life was in jeopardy, that neither of us him in tatters, be would not have had
imagined that volley was his death -knell. such an apotheosis as was now given him,
As I continued on my way, I passed with one simultaneous movement, by all
round the Boulevard , and reaching the classes of his countrymen .
spot I have named, I saw a few men The inveteratc intention of the reign
and women, of the lowest class, standing ing family was to obliterate every mark
together, while a sentinel paced to and that bore the impress of Napoleon .
fro before a wall, which was covered Wherever the initial of his name had
with mortar, and which formed one side been inserted on the public edifices, it
of the place. I turned in to the spot was carefully erased ; his statues were
and inquired what was the matter. A broken or removed ; prints of him could
man replied,-“ Marshal Ney has been not be exposed for sale ; and it appeared
shot herc, and his body has just been to be their fixed determination to drive
removed ." I looked at the soldier, but him from men's memories. But he had
he was gravely going through his monot- left mementos which jealousy could not
onous duty, and I knew that military conceal nor petty malice destroy. His
rule forbade my addressing him . I look- Code was still the law of the land ; the
ed down ; the ground was wet with blood. monuments of his genius were thickly
I turned to the wall, and seeing it mark- scattered wherever his dominion had ex
ed by balls, I attempted, with my knife, tended ; his mighty name was on every
to dig out a memorial of that day's sad tongue ; and as time mellowed the re
work, but the soldier motioned me away. membrance of him, the good he had done
I afterwards revisited the place, but the survived and the evil was forgotten or
wall had been plastered over, and no in- extenuated .
dications remained where the death -shot Whoever would judge this man should
had penetrated. consider the times which produced him
The sensation produced by this event and the fearful authority he wielded. He
was profound and permanent. Many a came to take his place among the rulers of
heart, inclined towards the Bourbons, the earth, while she was rocking with con
was alienated by it forever. Families vulsions, — seeking regeneration through ·
-

which had rejoiced at the Restoration the baptism of blood. He came as a con
now cursed it in their bitterness, and necting link between anarchy and order,
from that day dated a hostility which an agent of destiny to act his part in the
knew no reconciliation. The army and great tragedy of revolution, the end of
the youth of France demanded , why a which is not yet. His mission was to
soldier, whose whole life had been passed give a lesson to sovereigns and people, to
in her service, should be sacrificed to ap- humble hereditary power, and to prove
pease a race that was a stranger to the by his own career the unsubstantial char
country, and for which it had no sympa- acter of a government which deludes the
thy. A gloom spread like a funeral pall popular will that creates it. During his
over so« iety, and even those who had captivity, he understood the true causes
blamed the Marshal for joining the Em- of his overthrow , and talked of them
peror were now among his warmest de- with an intelligence which inisfortune
fenders. The print-shops were thronged had saddened down into philosophy. He
with purchasers eager to possess his por saw that the secret of his reverses was
trait and to hang it in their homes, with not to be found in the banded confeder
a reverence like that attaching to the acy of kings, but in the forfeited sympa
image of a martyred saint. Had he died thy of the great masses of men, who felt
844 The Hundred Days. [May,
with him , and moved with him , and bade the table as he had left them ; the chair
him God -speed, until he abandoned the on which he sat was still where he had
distinctive principle which advanced him , arisen from it ; the flower he bad plucked
and relinquished their affection for royal withered where he had dropped it. Ev
affiances and the doubtful friendship of ery article he had touched was sacred ,
monarchs. His better nature was laid and remained unprofaned by other hands.
aside, his common sense became merged Doubtless, long after he had returned to
in court ctiquette, he sacrificed his con- his brilliant capital, and all remembrance
science to his ambition, and the Man of her was lost in the glittering court
was forgotten in the Emperor. assembled about the fair-haired daughter
It is creditable to the world, that his of Austria, that lone woman wandered,
divorce did more , perhaps, than anything in solitary sadness, through the places
else to alienate the respect and attach- which ad been hallowed by his pres
ment of mankind ; and many who could ence, and gazed on the senseless objects
find excuses for his gravest public mis- consecrated by his passing attention.
deeds can never forgive this impiety to After his last abdication, he retired
the household gods. once more to Malmaison, where he pass
I was most forcibly impressed with the ed the few days that remained, until he
relation between him and Josephine, in a bade aa final farewell to the scenes which
visit I made to Malmaison a short time he had known at the dawn of his pros
subsequent to her death, which occurred perity. No man can tell his thoughts
soon after his first abdication . It was during those lonely hours. His wife was
the place where they had lived together, in the palace of her ancestors, and his
before the imperial diadem had seared child was to know him no more . He
his brain ; and it was the chosen spot of could hear the din of marching soldiers,
her retreat, when he, “the conqueror of and the roar of distant battle, but they
kings, sank to the degradation of court- were nothing to him now. His wand
ing their alliance.” The house was as was broken , the spell was over, the spir
she left it. Not a thing had been moved, its that ministered to him had vanished,
the servants were still there, and the and the enchanter was left powerless and
order and comfort of the establishment alone. But, in the still watches of the
were as though her return were mo- night, a familiar form may have stood be
mently expected. The plants she loved side him, and a well-known voice again
were carefully tended, and her particular whispered to him in the kindly tones of
favorites were affectionately pointed out. by-gone years. The crown, the sceptre,
The old domestic who acted as my guide the imperial purple, the long line of
spoke low, as if afraid of disturbing her kings, for which he had renounced a
repose, or as if the sanctity of death still woman worth them all, must have faded
pervaded the apartments. He could not from his memory in the swarming recol
mention her without emotion ; and he told lections of his once happy home. He
enough of her quiet, unobtrusive life, of could not look around him without seeing
9

her kindness to the poor, of her gentle- in every object an accusing angel; and
ness to all about her, to account for the
devotion of her dependants. The evi-
dences of her refined taste were every-
where, and there were tokens that her
love for her husband had survived his
injustice and desertion. After his second
marriage, he occasionally visited her, and
she never allowed anything to be dis-
turbed which reminded her that he had
been there. Books were lying open on
if a human heart throbbed in his bosom ,
retribution came before death.
Yet call him not up for judgment,
without reflecting that his awful elevation
and the gigantic task he had assumed
had perverted a heart naturally kind
and affectionate, and left him little leisure
to devote to the virtues which decorate
domestic life. The numberless anecdotes
related of him, the charm with which he
 1 1858.] The Hundred Days. 845

won to himself all whom he attempted to Seventeen years after the period which
conciliate, the warm attachment of those I have attempted to illustrate by a few
immediately about him, tend to the belief incidents, I stood by his grave at St.
that there was much of good in him . But Helena. I was returning from a long
his eye was continually fixed on the star residence in the East, and, having doub
he saw blazing before him , and in his ef- led the stormy Cape of Good Hope,
forts to follow its guidance, he heeded looked forward with no little interest to
not the victims he crushed in his onward a short repose at the halting-place be
progress. He considered men as mere tween India and Europe. But when I
instruments to extend his dominion, and saw its blue mass heaving from the
he used them with wasteful expenditure, ocean , the usual excitement attendant
to advance his projects or to secure bis on the cry of “ Land ! ” was lost in the
conquests. But he was not cruel, nor absorbing feeling, that there Napoleon
was he steeled to human misery. Had Bonaparte died and was buried. The
he been what he is sometimes repre- lonely rock rosc in solitary barrenness,
sented, he never could have retained the a bleak and mournful monument of some
ascendency over the minds of his follow- rude caprice of Nature, which has thrown
ers, which, regardless of defeat and suf- it out to stand in cheerless desolation
fering and death, lived on when even amidst the broad waters of the Atlantic.
hope had gone. The day I passed there was devoted to
Accusatory words are easily spoken, the place where the captive wore away
and there is often a disposition to con- the weary and troubled years of his im
demn, without calculating the compelling prisonment, and to the little spot which
motives which govern human actions, or he himself selected when anticipating the
the height of place which has given to denial of his last wish ,—now fully an
surrounding objects a coloring and figure swered," that his ashes might repose
not to be measured by the ordinary rules on the banks of the Seine, in the midst
of ethics. Many a man who cannot bear of that French people whom he had so
a little brief authority without abusing it, much loved. "
who lords it over a few dependants with There was nothing in or about the
insolent and arbitrary rule, whose temper house to remind one of its late occupant.
makes everybody uncomfortable within It was used as a granary. The apart
CRM
the limited sphere of his government ments were filled with straw ; a machine
and whose petty tyranny turns his own for threshing or winnowing was in the
home into a despotic empire, can pro parlor; and the room where he died was
nounce a sweeping doom against one now converted into a stable, a horse
who was clothed with irresponsible power, standing where his bed had been . The
who seemed elevated above the acci- position was naked and comfortless, be
英 dents of humanity, whose audience-cham- ing on the summit of a bill, perpetually
ber was thronged by princes, whose swept by the trade-winds, which suffered
words were as the breath of life, and no living thing to stand, except a few
who dealt out kingdoms to his kindred straggling, bare, shadeless trees, which
like the portions of a family inheritance. contributed to the disconsolate charac
Let censure , then, be tempered with char- ter of the landscape. The grave was
ity, nor be lightly bestowed on him who in a quiet little valley. It was cover
will continue to fill a space in the annals ed by three plain slabs of stone, closely
of the world when the present shall be surrounded by an iron railing ; a low
merged in that shadowy realm where fact wooden paling extended a small dis
becomes mingled with fable, and the real- tance around ; and 'the whole was over
ity, dimmed by distance, shall be so trans- hung by three decaying willows. The
figured by poetry and romance , that it may appearance of the place was plain and
even be doubted whether he ever lived . appropriate. Nothing was wanting to its
846 Epigram on J. M. [May,
unadorned and affecting simplicity. Or- never again taste power, and, with ill
nament could not have increased its concealed distrust and anxiety, deprem
beauty, nor inscription have added to its cate a resentment that has not been
solemnity. weakened by years nor forgotten in al
The mighty conqueror slept in the ter- liances.
ritory of his most inveterate foes; but Not to them alone has Time hastened
the path to his tomb was reverently trod- to bring that retributive justice which
den, and those who had stood opposed to falls alike on empires and individuals.
him in life forgot that there had been The son of “The Man ” moulders in an
enmity between them . Death had extin- Austrian tomb, leaving no trace that he
guished hostility ; and the pilgrims who has lived ; while the lineal descendant of
visited his resting-place spoke kindly of the obscure Creole, of the deposed em
his memory , and, hoarding some little to press, of the divorced wife, sits on the
ken, bore it to their distant homes to be throne of Clovis and Charlemagne, of
prized by their posterity as having been Capet and Bonaparte.
gathered at his grave. Within the brief space of one genera
The doine of the Invalides now rises tion, within the limit of one man's mem
over his remains ; his statuc again capsory, vengeance has revolved full circle ;
the column that commemorates his ex- and while the sleepless Nemesis points
ploits; and one of his name, advanced by with unresting finger to the barren
the sole magic of his glory, controls, with rock and the insulted captive, she turns
arbitrary will and singular ability, the with meaning smile to the borders of
destinies , not of France only, but of the Seine, where mausoleum and palace
Europe. stand in significant proximity , -- the one
covering the dust of the first empire, the
The nations which united for his over-
throw now humbly bow before the family other the home of the triumphant grand
they solemnly pledged themselves should son of Josephine.

EPIGRAM ON J. M.

Said Fortune to a common spit,

“ Your rust and grease I'll rid ye on ,
And make ye in a twinkling fit
For Ireland's Sword of Gideon ! '

In vain ! what Nature meant for base

All chance for good refuses ;
M. gave one gleam , then turned apace
To dirtiest kitchen uses.
 i 1858.] Beethoven . 847

BEETHOVEN : HIS CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH .

( From Original Sources .)

THERE is upon record a remark of chards, and planted trees in them of all
Mozart - probably the greatest musical manner of fruits " ; for the huge palace,
genius that ever lived — to this effect: now the seat of the Frederick -William
that, if few had equalled him in his art, University, and Clemensrube, now the
few had studied it with such porsevering College of Natural History, were erected
labor and such unremitting zeal. Every by them early in the last century. Like
sai man who has attained high preëminence the Preacher, too, " they got them men
in Science, Literature, or Art, would con- singers and women -singers, and the de
fess the same. At all events, the great- lights of the sons of men, as musical in
est musical composers — Bach, Handel,
-
struments, and that of all sorts .” Music
Haydn, Gluck - are proofs that no de- they cherished with especial care : it
gree of genius and natural aptitude for gave splendor to the celebration of high
their art is sufficient without long -contin- mass in chapel or cathedral; it afforded
ued effort and exhaustive study of the an innocent and refined recreation , in the
best models of composition. And this is theatre and concert-room , to the Electors
the moral to be drawn from Beethoven's and their guests.
early life. In the list of singers and musicians in
the employ of Clemens Augustus, as
“ Voilà Bonn ! C'est une petite perle ! ” printed in the Electoral Calendar for the
said the admiring Frenchwoman, as the years 1759–60, appears the name, “ Lud
Cologne steamboat rounded the point be- wig van Beethoven, Bassist. ” We know
low the town, and she caught the first fair little of him, and it is but a very probable
view of its bustling landing -places, its old conjecture that he was a native of Maes
wall, its quaint gables, and its antique ca- tricht, in Holland. That he was more than
thedral spires. Apearl among the smaller an ordinary singer is proved by the posi
German cities it is,—with most irregular tion he held in the Chapel, and by the
streets, always neat and cleanly, noble applause which he received for his per
bistoric and literary associations, jovial formances as primo basso in certain of
student-life, pleasant walks to the neigh-
Monsigny's operas. He was, moreover, a
boring hills, delightful excursions to the
good musician ; for he had produced op
Siebengebirge and Ahrthal, - reposing eras of bis own composition, with fair
peacefully upon the left bank of the success, and , upon the accession of Maxi
"green and rushing Rhine.” Six hun- milian Frederick to the Electorate in
dred years ago , the Archbishop -Electors 1761 , he was raised to the position of
of Cologne, defeated in their long quar- Kapellmeister. He was already well ad
rel with the people of the city of per- vanced in life ; for the same record bears
fumery, established their court at Bonn, the name of his son Johann, a tenor
and inade it thenceforth the political capi- singer. He died in 1773, and was long
tal of the Electorate. Having both the afterward described by one who remem
civil and ecclesiastical revenues at their bered him, as a short, stout-built man ,
command, the last Electors were able to with exceedingly lively eyes, who used
sustain courts which vied in splendor with to walk with great dignity to and from
those of princes of far greater political his dwelling in the Bonngasse, clad in
power and pretensions. They could say, the fashionable red cloak of the time.
with the Preacher of old , “ We builded Thus, too, he was quite magnificently
us bouscs; we made us gardens and or- depicted by the court painter, Radoux,
848 Beethoven . [ May,
wearing a tasselled cap, and holding a has experienced " the pleasing punisb
sheet of music-paper in his hand. His ment that women bear,” but “ remember
wife — the Frau Kapellmeisterinn - born eth no more the anguish for joy that a
Josepha Poll — was not a helpmeet for man is born into the world .” Her joy is
him, being addicted to strong drink, and the greater, because last year, in April,
therefore, during her last years, placed she buried, in less than a week after his
in a convent in Cologne. birth, her first-born, Ludwig Maria ,-as
The Bonngasse, which runs Rhineward the name still stands upon the baptismal
from the lower extremity of the Markt- records of the parish of St. Remigius, with
platz, is, as the epithet gasse implies, not the names of Kapellmeister Beethoven,
one of the principal streets of Bonn. and the next -door neighbor, Frau Lober,
Nor is it one of great length, notwith- as sponsors. This second -born is a strong,
standing the numbers upon its house. healthy child, and his baptism is recorded
fronts range so high ,—for the houses of in the same parish -book, Dec. 17, 1770,
the town are numbered in a single series, the day of, possibly the day after, his
-
and not strect by street. In 1770, the birth, — by the name of Ludwig. The
centre of the Bonngasse was also a cen- Kapellmeister is again godfather, but Frau
tral point for the music and musicians of Gertrude Müller, née Baum , next door
Bonn. Kapellmeister Beethoven dwelt in on the other side, is the godmother. The
No. 386 , and the next house was the Beethovens had neither kith nor kin in
abode of the Ries family. The father Bonn ; the families Ries and Salomon ,
was one of the Elector's chamber musi- their intimate friends, were Israelites ;
cians ; and his son Franz, a youth of fif- hence the appearance of the neighbors,
teen, was already a member of the orches- Frauen Loher and Müller, at the cere
tra, and by his skill upon the violin gave mony of baptism ;-a strong corroborative
promise of his future excellence. Thirty evidence, that No. 515, Bonngasse, was
years afterward , his son became the pupil the actual birth -place of Beethoven.
of the Beethoven in Vienna. The child grew apace, and in manhood
In No. 515, which is nearly opposite his earliest and proudest recollections,
the house of Ries, lived the Salomons. save of his mother, were of the love and
Two of the sisters were singers in the affection lavished upon , him , the only
Court Theatre, and the brother, Johann grandchild, by the Kapellmeister. He
Peter, was a distinguished violinist. At had just completed his third year when
a later period he emigrated to London, the old man died, and the bright sun
gained great applause as a virtuoso, es- which had shone upon his infancy, and
tablished the concerts in which Haydn left an ineffaceable impression upon the
appeared as composer and director, and child's memory, was obscured. Johann
was one of the founders of the celebrated van Becthoven had inherited his moth
London Philharmonic Society. er's failing, and its effects were soon
It is common in Bonn to build two visible in the poverty of the family. He
houses, onc behind the other, upon the left the Bonngasse for quarters in that
same piece of ground, leaving a small house in the Rheingasse, near the upper
court between them ,-access to that in steamboat-landing, which now errone

the rear being obtained through the one ously bears the inscription, Ludwig van
which fronts upon the street. This was Beethovens Geburtshaus.
the case where the Salomons dwelt, and His small inheritance was soon squan
to the rear house, in November, 1767, dered ; his salary as singer was small,
Johann van Beethoven brought his newly and at length even the portrait of his
married wife, Helena Keverich , of co- father went to the pawnbroker. In the
blentz, widow of Nicolas Laym , a former April succeeding the Kapellmeister's
valet of the Elector. death, the expenses of Johann's family
It is near the close of 1770. Helena were increased by the birth of another
 1838.] Beethoven . 849

son, Caspar Anton Carl; and to this soon exhansted his father's musical re
event Dr. Wegeler attributes the unre- sources, and became the pupil of Pfeiffer,
lenting perseverance of the father in chorist in the Electoral Orchestra, a ge
keeping little Ludwig from this time nial and kind -hearted man, and so good
to bis daily lessons upon the piano-forte. a musician as afterward to be appoint
Both Wegeler and Burgomaster Win- ed band -master to a Bavarian regiinent.
deck of Bonn, sixty years afterward, re- Beethoven always held himn in grateful
membered bow , as boys, visiting a play- and affectionate remembrance, and in the
mate in another house across the small days of his prosperity in Vienna sent him
court, they ofien “ saw little Louis, his la- pecuniary aid. llis next tcacber was
PS bors and sorrows." Cecilia Fischer, too, Van der Eder, court organist,-a proof
a playmate of Beethoven in his carly that the boy's progress was very rapid, as
: childhood, and living in the same house this must have been the highest school
in her old age, “ still saw the little boy that Bonn could offer. With this master
standing upon a low footstool and prac- he studied the organ. When Van der
tising his father's lessons,” in tears. Eder retired froin office, his successor,
What indications, if any, the child had Christian Gottlob Neete, succeeded him
given of remarkable musical genius, we also as instructor of his remarkable pupil.
EX do not know ,—not one of the many anec- Wegeler and Schindler, writing sev
‫۔ک‬ Jotes bearing upon this point having any eral years after the great composer's
trustworthy foundation in fact. Probably death, state, that, of these three instruc
the father discovered in him that which tors, be considered hiinself most indebt
awakened the hope of some time rivalling cd to Pfeiffer, declaring that he had
the then recent career of Leopold Mo- profited little or nothing by his studies
zart with little Wolfgang, or at least with Neefe, of whose severe criticisms
saw reason to expect as much success upon his boyish efforts in composition le
with his son as had rewarded the efforts complained. These statements have lith
of liis neighbor Ries with his Franz ; at erto been unquestioned . Without doubt
3 all events, we have the testimony of ing the veracity of the two authors, it may
Beethoven himself, that “ already in his well be asked, whether the great master
*
fourile year music became his principal may not have relied too much upon the
employment,” — and this it continued to impressions received in childhood, and
be to the end. Yet, as he grew older, histhus unwittingly have done injustice to
education in other respects was not neg . The appointment of that musi
Neefe.
lected . He passed through the usual cian as organist to the Electoral Court
course of bors of his time, not destined bears date February 15, 1781 , when
for the universities, in the public schools Ludwig had but just completed his tenth
of the city, even to the acquiring of some year, and the sixth year of his musical
knowledge of Latin. The French lan- studies. These' six years had been di
guage was, as it still is, a necessity to ev- vided between three different instructors,
ery person of the Rhine provinces abore - his father, Pfeiffer, and Van der Eder ;
the rank of peasant; and Beethoven be- and during the last part of the time, music
caine able to converse in it with reason- could have been but the extra study of a
able fluency, even after years of disuse schoolboy. That the two or three years,
and almost total loss of hearing. It has during which at the most he was a pupil
also been stated that he knew enough of of Pfeiffer, and that, too, when he was but
English to read it ; but this is more than six or eight years of age, were of more
doubtful. In fact, as a schoolboy, he made value to him in his artistic development
the usual progress, —no more, no less. than the years from the age of ten
In music it was otherwise . The child onward, during which he studied with
Mozart seems alone to have cqualled or Neefe, certainly seems an absurd idea.
surpassed the child Beethoven. Ludwig That the chorist may have laid aa founda
VOL. I. 54
850 Beethoven. [ May,
tion for his future remarkable execution, for the counsels which had guided him in
and have fostered and developed his love his studies, and adds, “ Should I ever
for music, is very probable ; but that the become a great man , it will in part be.
great Beethoven's marvellous powers in owing to you."
higher spheres of the art were in any The following passage from an account
great degree owing to biin, we cannot of the virtuosos in the service of the Elec
credit. Happily, we have some data for tor at Bonn , written in 1782, when Beet
forming a judgment upon this point, un- hoven had been with Neefe but little
known both to Wegeler and Schindler, more than a year, and which we unbesi
when they wrote. tatingly attribute to the pen of Neefe
Neefe was, if not a man of genius, of himself, will give an idea of the course
very respectable talents, a learned and of instruction adopted by the master, and
accomplished organist and composer, as his hopes and expectations for the future
a violinist respectable , even in a corps of his pupil. It is, moreover, interesting,
which included Reicha, Romberg, Ries. as being the first public notice of him
Ile hail been reared in the severe Saxon who for half a century has exercised
school of the Bachs, and before coming more pens than any other artist. The
to Bonn had had much experience as writer closes his list of musicians and
music director of an operatic company. singers thus :
He knew the value of the maxim , Festina “ Louis van Beethoven, son of the
lente, and was wise enough to understand, above- named tenorist, a boy of eleven
that no lotty and enduring structure can years, and of most pronising talents. He
be reared, unless the foundations are plays the piano-forte with great skill and
broad and deep , —that sound and ex- power, reads exceedingly well at sight,
haustive study of canoa, fugue, and coun- and, to say all in a word, plays nearly
6
terpoint is as necessary to the highest the whole of Sebastian Bach's • Wohltem
development of musical genius as mathc- perirtes Klavier,' placed in his hands by
matics, philosophy, and logic are to that Herr Neefe. Whoever is acquainted with
of the scientific and literary man. He at this collection of preludes aud fugues in
once saw and appreciated the marvellous cvery key ( which one can almost call the
powers of Johann van Beethoven's son , non plus ultra of music) knows well what
and adopted a plan with him , whose aim this implies. llerr Neefe has also, so far
was, not to make him a mere youthful as his other duties allowed, given hiv
prodigy, but a great musician and com- some instruction in thorough -bass. At
poser in manhood. That, with this end in present he is exercising him in compo
view, he should have criticized the boy's sition, and for his encouragement has
crude compositions with some severity caused nine variations composed by him
was perfectly natural; equally so that the for the piano-forte upon a march * to
petted and bepraised boy should have felt be engraved at Mannheim . This young
these criticisms keenly. But the severity genius certainly deserves such assistance
of the master was no more than a neces- as will enable him to travel. Ile will
sary counterpoise to the injudicious praise assuredly become a second Wolfgang
of others. That Beethoven, however he Amadeus Mozart, should he continue as
may have spoken of Neefe to Wegeler he has begun.
and Schindler, did at times have a duo “ Wem er geneigt, dem sendet der Vater der
consciousness of his obligations to his old Menschen und Götter
master, is proved by a letter which lie Seinen Adler herab, trägt ihn zu himmlischen
wrote to him from Vienna, during the Höh'n und welches
first transports of joy and delight at find- Haupt ihm gefüllt um das flicht er mit
ing himself the object of universal wonder · liebenden Händen den Lorbeer.'
.

SCHILLER ."
and commendation in the musical circles
of the great capital. He thanks Neefe * The variations upon a march by Dressler .
 1858.] Beethoven . 851

In the mere grammar of musical com- hers in return . I have now completed my
position the pupil required little of his eleventh year; and my Muse, in the hours
We have Beethoven's own consecrated to her, oft whispers to me, ' Try
6
i
. master.
for once, and write down the harmonies in
words to prove this, scrawled at the end thy soul!!-- Eleven years !' thought I,-' and
of the thorough-bass exercises, afterward how should I carry the dignity of authorship ?
performed, when studying with Albrechts- What would men in the art say ? ' - My ti
berger. “ Dear friends,” he writes, “ I midity had nearly conquered . But my Muse
have taken all this trouble, simply to be willed it ;-I obeyed and wrote .
“ And now dare 1, Most Illustrious ! venture
able to figure , my basses correctly, and to lay the first fruits of iny youthful labors at
some time, perhaps, to instruct others. the steps of Thy throne ? And dare I hope
As to errors, I hardly needed to learn that Thou wilt deign to cast upon them the
this for my own sake. From my child- mild, paternal glance of Thy cheering appro
hood I have had so fine aa musical sense , bation ? Oh, yes ! for Science and Art have
ever found in Thee a wise patron and a mag
that I wrote correctly without knowing
that it must be so , or could be otherwise .” nanimous proinuter, and germinating talent
its prosperity under Thy kind , paterval care .
as was
Necfe's object, therefore, “ Filled with this animating trust, I venture
Haydn's at a subsequent period, - was -
to draw near to Thee with these youthful
to give his pupil that mastery of musical efforts. Accept them as a pure offering of
form and of his instrument, which should childish reverence, and look down graciously,
enable him at once to perceive the value Most Exalted ! upon them and their young
author, “ LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN."
of a musical idea and its most appropriate
treatment. The result was, that the tones “ These Sonatas, ” says a most compe
of his piano-forte became to the youth a tent critic,* " for a boy's work , are , indeed,
language in which his highest, deepest, remarkable. They are bonâ fide compo
subtilest musical ideas were expressed by sitions. There is no vagueness about
his fingers as instantaneously and with as them . . . . He has ideas positive and
little thought of the mere style and man- well pronounced, and he proceeds to de
ner of their expression as are the intel- velope them in a manner at once sponta
lectual ideas of the thoroughly trained neous and logical. ... Verily the boy pos
rhetorician in words. sessed the vital secret of the Sonata form ;
The good effect of the course pursued he had seized its organic principle.”
by Neete with his pupil is visible in the Ludwig has become an author ! His
next published production - save a song talents are known and appreciated every
or two - of the boy ;—the where in Bonn. He is the pet of the
musical circle in which he moves, - in
" Three Sonatas for the Piano -forte, com
posed and dedicated to the most Reverend danger of being spoiled. Yet now, when
Archbishop and Elector of Cologne, Maximil- the character is forming, and those hab
ian Frederick, my most gracious Loril, by its, feelings, tastes are becoming develop
LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN, ed and fixed , which are to go with him
Aged eleven years.” through life, he can look to hisfather nci
We cannot resist the temptation to ther for example nor counsel. He idolizes
add the comically bombastic Dedication his mother; but she is oppressed with the
of these Sonatas to the Elector, which cares of a family, suffering through the
may very possibly have been written by improvidence and bad habits of its head,
Neefe, who loved to see himself in print. and though she had been otherwise situ
ated, the widow of Laym, the Elector's
" DEDICATION valet, could hardly be the proper person
“ Most ExalTED ! to fit the young artist for future inter
“ Already in my fourth year Music began course with the higher ranks of society.
to be the principal employment of my youth.
Thus early acquainted with the lovely Muse,
In the large, handsome brick house
who tuned my soul to pure harmonies, she still standing opposite the minster in
won my love, and, as I oft have felt, gave me * J. S. Dwight.
 852 Beethoven . [ May ,
Bonn , on the cast side of the public To the Breunings, then, we are in
square, where now stanıls the statue of
vi

debted for that love of Plutarch, Homer,

Beethoven, dwelt the widow and chil- Shakspeare, Goethe, and whatever gives
dren of Hofrath von Breuning. Easy us noble pictures of that greatness of
in their circumstances, highly educated , character which we term “ heroic," that
of literary habits, and familiar with polite enabled the future composer to stir up
life, the family was among the first in the within us all the finest and noblest
city. The four children were not far emotions, as with the wand of a magician.
from Beethoven's age ; Eleonore, the The boy had an inborn love of the beau
daughter, and Lenz, the third son, were tiful, the tender, the majestic, the sub
young enough to become his pupils. In lime, in nature, in art, and in literature ,-
this family it was Ludwig's good fortune together with a strong sense of the humor
to become a favorite, and “ here, ” says ous and even comic. With the Breunings
Wegeler, who afterward married Eleo all these qualities were cultivated and in
nore, " he made his first acquaintance the right direction. To them the musical
with German literature, especially with world owes a vast debt of gratitude.
the poets, and here first had opportunity Beethoven was no exception to the
to gain the cultivation necessary for so- rule, that only a great man can be a
cial life." great artist. True, in his later years his
Ile was soon treated by the Von Breu- correspondence shows at times an igno
nings as a son and brother, passing not rance of the rules of grammar and orthog
only most of his days, but many of his raphy ; but it also proves, what may be
nights, at their house, and sometimes determined from a thousand other indi
spending his vacations with them at their cations, that he was a deep thinker, and
country -seat in Kerpen,—a small town that he had a mind of no small degree
on the great road from Cologne to Aix of cultivation, as it certainly was one of
la Chapelle. With them he felt free great intellectual power. Had he devoted
and unrestrained, and everything tended his life to any other profession than music,
at the same time to his happiness and his -to law, theology, science, or letters -
intellectual development. Nor was mu- he would have attained high eminence,
sic neglected. The members of the and enrolled himself among the great.
family were all musical, and Stephen , But we have anticipated a little, and
the eldest son, sometimes played in the now turn back to an event which occur
Electoral Orchestra. red soon after he had completed his thir
No person possessed so strong an in- teenth year, and which proved in its con
fuence upon the oft-times stubborn and sequences of the highest moment to him,
wilful boy as the Frau von Breuning. -the death of the Elector, which took
She best knew how to bring him back to place on the 15th of April, 1784. He
the performance of his duty, when neglect- was succeeded by Maximilian Francis,
ful of his pupils; and when she, with gen- Bishop of Münster, Grand Master of the
tle force, had made him cross the square Teutonic Order, a son of the Emperor
to the house of the Austrian ambassador, Francis and Maria Theresa of Austria.
Count Westfall, to give the promised A word upon this family of imperial
musicians may, perhaps, be parloned.
lesson, and saw him , after hesitating for
a time at the door, suddenly fly back, It was Charles VI., the father of Maria
unable to overcome his dislike to lesson- Theresa, a composer of canons and music
giving, she would bear patiently with for the harpsichord, who, upon being com
him, merely shrugging her shoulders and plimented by his Kapellmeister as being
remarking, “ To -day he has his raplus well able to officiate as a music-director,
again ! ” The poverty at home and his dryly observed, “ Upon the whole ,howev
love for his mother alone enabled him er, I like my present position better ! ” His
ever to master this aversion . daughter sang an air upon the stage of
 1838.] Beethoven . 853

the Court Theatre in her fifth year ; and in in his new dignity, Waldstein procured
1739 , just before her accession to the im- for Ludwig the appointment of assistant
perial dignity, being in Florence, she sang court organist ;—not that Neefe needed
a duet with Senesino - of landelian him, but that he needed the small salary
meniory-with such grace and splendor attached to the place. From this time to
of voice, that the tears rolled down the the downfall of the Electorate, his name
olid man's cheeks. In all her wars and follows that of Necfe in the annual Court
amid all the cares of state, Maria The- Calendar.
resa never ceased to cherish music. Her Wegeler and others have preserveil
children were put under the best instruc- a varicty of anecdotes which illustrate
tors, and made thorough musicians ; the skill and peculiarities of the young
Joseph, whom Mozart so loved, though organist at this period, but we have not
the victim of his shabby treatment; Ma- space for them ;-moreover, our object is
ria Antoinette, the patron of Gluck and rather to convey some distinct idea of the
the head of his party in Paris; Max training which made hin what every love
Franz, with whom we now have to do,- er of music knows be afterward became.
and so forth . Maximilian Francis was as affable and
Upon learning the death of Max Fred generous as he was passionately fond of
erick, his successor hastened to Bonn to music. A newspaper of the day records,
assume the Archiepiscopal and Electoral that he used to walk about the streets of
dignities, with which he was formally in- Bonn like any other citizen, and carly
vested in the spring of 1785. In the became very popular with all classes.
train of the new Elector, who was still He often took part in the concerts at
in the prime of life, was the Austrian the palace, as upon a certain occasion
Count Waldstein , his favorite and con- when “ Duke Albert played violin, the
stant companion. Waldstein, like his Elector viola, and Countess Belderbusch
master, was more than an amateur, -he piano- forte,” in a trio. He enlarged his
was a fine practical niusician. The orchestra, and, through his relations with
promising pupil of Neefe was soon the courts at Vienna, Paris, and other
brought to his notice, and his talents capitals, kept it well supplied with all the
and attainments excited in him an extra- new publications of the principal com
ordinary interest. Coming from Vienna, posers of the day, — Mozart, Haydn,
where Mozart and Haydn were in the Gluck, Pleyel, and others.
full tide of their success, where Gluck's No better school , therefore, for a young
operas were heard with rapture, and musician could there well have been than
where in the second rank of musicians that in which Beethoven was now placed.
and composers were such names as Sali- While Neefe took care that he continued
eri, Righini, Anfossi, and Martini, Wald- his study of the great classic models of
stein could well judge of the promise of organ and piano-forte composition, he was
the boy . Ile foresaw at once his future constantly hearing the best ecclesiastical,
greatness, and gave him his favor and pro orchestral, and chamber music, forming1

tection . He, in sonie degree, at least, re- his taste upon the best models, and ac
lieved hiin from the dry rules of Necfe, quiring a knowledge of what the greatest
and taught him the art of varying a masters had accomplished in their several
theme extempore and carrying it out to directions. But as time passed on, he
its highest development. He had pa- felt the necessity of aa still larger field of
tience and forbearance with the boy's observation, and, in the autumn of 1786,
failings and foibles, and, to relieve his Neefe's wish that his pupil might travel
necessities, gave him money, sometimes was fulfilled. He obtained - mainly, it is
as gifts of his own, sometimes as gratifi- probable, from the Elector, through the
cations from the Elector. goud oſlices of Waldstein — the nieans of
As soon as Maximilian was installed making the journey to Vienna, then the
 854 Beethoven .
musical capital of the world , to place
himself under the instructions of Mozart,
1
then the master of all living masters.
Few records have fallen under our no
tice, which throw light upon this visit.
Seyfried, and Holmes, after him, relate
the surprise of Mozart at hearing the
boy, now just sixteen years of age, treat
an intricate fugue theme, which he gave
liin, and his prophecy, that “ that young
man would some day make himself heard
of in the world ! ”
It is said that Beethoven in after life
complained of never having heard his
master play. The complaint must have
been , that Mozart never played to him in
private ; for it is absurd to suppose that
he attended none of the splendid series
of concerts which his master gave during
that winter.
The mysterious brevity of this first visit
of Beethoven to Vienna we find fully ex-
plained in a letter, of which we give a
more literal than elegant translation. It
is the earliest specimen of the composer's
correspondence which has come under
our notice, and was addressed to a cer
tain Dr. Schade, an advocate of Augs-
burg, where the young man seems to have
tarried some days upon his journey.
“ Bonn, September 15, 1787.
" Hoxor.ED AND MOST VALUED Friexd !
" What you must think of me I can easily extremity, at the time when the mother
conceive ; nor can I deny that you have well-
grounded reasons for looking upon me in an
nnfavorable light; but I will not ask you to
excuse me , until I have made known the
grounds upon which I dare hope my apolo
gies will find acceptance. I mu-t confess , that,
from the moment of leaving Augsburg, my
happiness, and with it my health , began to
leave me ; the nearer I drew toward my native
city, the more numerous were the letters of
my father, which met me, urging me onward,
as the condition of my mother's health was
critical . I hastened forward , therefore, with
all possible expedition, fou ! wis myself much
indisposed ; but the longing I felt to sce my
sick mother once more made all hindrances
of little account, and aided me in overcoming and thirteen years of age, devolved upon
all obstacles .
" I found her still alive, but in a most piti
able condition . She was in a consumption,
and finally, about seven weeks since, after
[May,
enduring the extremes of pain and suffering,
died . She was to me such a good and loving
mother,-my best of friends !
“ Oh, who would be so happy as I, could I •
6
still speak the sweet name, Mother ,' and
have her hear it ! And to whom can I now
speak ? To the dumb, but lifelike pictures
which my imagination calls up.
“ During the whole time since I reached
home, few have been my hours of enjoyment.
All this time I have been afflicted with asth
ma, and the fear is forced upon me that it may
end in consumption . Moreover, the state of
melancholy in which I now am is almost as
great a misfortune as my sickness itself.
“ Imagine yourself in my position for a mo
ment, and I doubt not that I shall receive
your forgiveness for my long silence. As to
the threc Carolins which you had the extra
ordinary kindness and friendship to lend me
in Augsburg, I must beg your indulgence still
for a time. Myjourney has cost me a good
deal, and I have no compensation — not even
the slightest - to hope in return . Fortune is
not propitious to me here in Boun.
" You will forgive me for detaining you so
long with my babble ; it is all necessary to
my apology. I pray you not to refuse me
the continuance of your valuable friendship,
since there is nothing I so much desire as to
make myself in some degree worthy of it. I
am, with all respect, your most obedient ser
vant and friend,
“ L. v. BEETHOVEN ,
“ Court Organist to the Elector of Cologne ."
We know also from other sources the
extreme poverty in which the Beethoven
family was at this period sunk In its
died, Franz Ries, the violinist, came to
its assistance, and his kindness was not
forgotten by Ludwig. When Ferdinand ,
the son of this Ries, reached Vienna in
the autumn of 1800, and presented his
father's letter, Beethoven said , — " I can
not answer your father yet ; but write
and tell him that I have not forgotten the
death of my mother. That will fully sat
isfy him .”
Young Beethoven, therefore, had little
time for illness. His father barely sup
ported himself, and the sustenance of his
two little brothers, respectively twelve
him. Ile was, however, equal to his sit
uation. He played his organ still,—the
instrument which was then above all
 1838.] Beethoven . 855

others to his taste ; he entered the Or- and gentle disposition, an ardent lover
chestra as player upon the viola ; re- of music, and an agreeable singer, who
. ceived the appointment of chamber-mu- often came to Bonn and spent weeks with
sician - pianist - to the Elector; and bc- the Breunings. She seems to have play
sides all this, engaged in the detested ed the coquette a little, both with our
labor of teaching. It proves no small young artist and his friend Stephen. It
energy of character, that the motherless is not difficult to imagine the effect upon
youth of seventeen, “ afflicted with asth- the sensitive and impulsive Ludwig, when
ma,” which he was “ fearful might end the beautiful girl, nodding to him in to
in consumption," struggling against a ken of its application, sang in tender
“ state of melancholy, almost as great a accents the then popular song,
misfortune as sickness itself," succeeded “ Mich heute noch von dir zu trennen,
in overcoming all, and securing the wel- Und dieses nicht verbindern können ,
fare of himself, his father, and his broth Ist zu empfindlich für mein Herz ."
ers. When be left Bonn finally, five She saw fit, however, to marry an Aus
years later, Carl, then eighteen, could trian, Carl Greth, a future commandant
support himself by teaching niusic, and at Temeswar, and her youthful lover
Johann was apprenticed to the court was left to console himself by transfer
apothecary ; while the father appears to ring his affections to another beauty,
have had a comfortable subsistence pro Fraulein WV .
vided for him , -although no longer an We behold him in the same select cir
active member of the Electoral Chapel,— cle, cultivating his talent for improvising
for the few weeks which, as it happened, upon the piano-forte, by depicting in mu
remained of his life. sic the characters of friends and acquaint
The scattered notices which are pre- ances, and generally in such a manner
served of Beethoven , during this period, that the company had no difficulty in
are difficult to arrange in a chronological guessing the person intended . On one of
order. We read of a joke played at the these occasions, Franz Ries was persuad
expense of Heller, the principal tenor ed to take his violin and improvise an
singer of the Chapel, in which that singer, accompaniment to his friend's improvisa
who prided himself upon his firmness in tion, which he did so successfully, that,
pite:h, was completely bewildered by a long aſterwards, he more than once ven
skilful modulation of the boy upon the tured to attempt the same in public, with
piano-forte, and forced to stop ;-of the his son Ferdinand .
music to a chivalrous ballad, perform- Professor Wurzer, of Marburg, who
ed by the noblemen attached to the well knew Beethoven in his youth, gives
court, of which for a long time Count us a glimpse of him sitting at the organ.
Waldstein was the reputed author, but On a pleasant summer afternoon, when
which in fact was the work of his pro the artist was about twenty years of age,
tégé ;— and there are other anecdotes, he, with some companions, strolled out to
probably familiar to most readers, show- Godesberg. Ilere they met Wurzer , who,
ing the great skill and science which he in the course of the conversation , men
already exhibited in his performance of tioned that the church of the convent of
chamber music in the presence of the Marienforst-behind the village of Godes
Elector. berg - had been repaired, and that a
We see him intimate as ever in the new organ had been procured, or perhaps
Breuning family, mingling familiarly with that the old one had been put in order
the best society of Bonn, which he met and perfected. Beethoven must needs
at their house ,—and even desperately in try it. The key was procured from the
love ! First it is with Fraulein Jeannette prior, and the friends gave him themes
d'Honrath , of Cologne, a beautiful and to vary and work out, which he did with
lively blonde, of pleasing manners, sweet such skill and beauty, that at length the
856 Beethoven. [May,
peasants engaged below in cleaning the tor of the Paris Conservatoire,-and An
dreas Ronberg; violas four, among them
churılı, one after another, dropped their
brooms and brushes, forgetting every- Ludwig van Beethoren ; violoncellists
thing else in their wonder and delight. three, among them Bernhard Romberg ;
In 1790, an addition was maile to the contrabassists also three. There were
Orchestra , most important in its intluence two oboes, two flutes , -one of them played
upon the artistic progress of Beethoven, by another Anton Reicha, —two clarinets,
as he was thus brought into daily inter- two horns, —one by Siinrock , a celebrated
course with two young musicians, already player, and founder of the music-pub
distinguished virtuosos upon their respec- lishing house of that name still existing
tive instruments. The Elector made fre- in Bonn, —three bassoons, four trumpets ,
quent visits to other cities of bis diocese, and the usual tyinpani .
otten taking a part or the whole of his Fourteen of the forty -three musicians
Chapel with himn . Upon his return that were soloists upon their several instru
summer from Münster, he brought with ments ; some half a dozen of them were
him the two virtuosos in question , - An- alrearly known as composers. Four
dreas Rombery, the violinist, and now cel years, at the least, of service in such an
ebrated composer, and his cousin Bern- orchestra may well be considered of all
hard, the greatest violoncellist of his age. schools the best in which Becthoven could
With these two young men Beethoven have been placed. Let his works decide.
was often called to the palace for the Our article shall close with some pic
private entertainment of Maximilian . tures photographed in the sunshine which
Very probably, upon one of these occa- gilded the closing years of Beethoven's
sions, was performed that trio—not pub- Bonn life. They illustrate the charac
lished until since the death of its com- ter of the man and of the people with
poser_ " the second movement of which," whom he lived and moved.
says Skinler, “ may be looked upon as In 1791 , in that beautiful season of the
the embryo of all Beethoven's scherzos,” year in Central Europe, when the heats
while “ the third is, in idea and form , of of summer are past and the autumn rains
the school of Mozart, -a proof how car- not yet set in, the Elector journeyed to
ly he made that master bis idol.” We Mergentheim , to hold , in bis capacity of
know that it was composed at this pe Grand Master, a convocation of the Teu
riod, and that its author considered it his tonic Order. The leading singers of his
highest attempt then in free composition. Chapel, and some twenty members of the
A few words must be given to the Orchestra , under Ries as director, follow
Electoral Orchestra , that school in which ed in two large barges. Before starting
Beethoven laid the foundation of his pro- upon the expedition, the company assem
digious knowledge of instrumental and bled and elected a king. The dignity
orchestral effects , as in the chamber-mu- was conferred upon Joseph Lux, the
sic at the palace he learned the unri- bass singer and comic actor, who, in dis
valled skill which (listinguishes his efforts tributing the offices of his court, appoint
in that branch of the art. ed Ludwig van Beethoven and Beruhard
The Kapellmeister, in 1792, was An- Romberg scullions !
drea lucchesi, aa native of Motta, in the A glorious time and a merry they had
Venetian territory, a fertile and accom- of it, following slowly the windings of the
plished composer in most styles. The Rhine and the Main, now impelled by
concert -master was Joseph Reicha, a vir- the wind, now drawn by horses, against
tuoso won the violoncello, a very fine the swift current, in this loveliest time of
concluctor, and no mean composer. The the year.
violins were sixteen in number ; among In those days, when steamboats were
them were Franz Ries, Neefe, Anton not, such a voyage was slow , and not sel
Reicha, -afterward the celebrated direc- dom in a high degrec tedious. With such
1858.] Beethoven . 857

a company the want of speed was a rock, and the two Rombergs took Beet
consideration of no importance, and the hoven with them to call upon the great
memory of this journey was in after years pianist, Sterkel. The master received
among Beethoven's brightest. Those who the young men kindly, and gratified
know the Rhine and the Main can easily them with a specimen of his powers. Ilis
conceive that this should be so. The style was in the highest degree graceful
route embraced the whole extent of the and pleasing,—as Father Ries described
famous highlands of the former river, it to Wegeler, “6 somewhat lady -like."
from the Drachenfels and Rolandseck to While he played , Beethoven stood by,
the heights of the Niederwald above listening with the most cager attention,
Rüdesheim , and that lovely section of doubtless silently comparing the effects
the latter which divides the hills of the produced by the player with those be
Odenwald from those of Spessart. The longing to his own style, which was rath
voyagers passed a thousand points of er rough and hard, owing to his constant
local and historic interest. The old practice upon the oryan. It is said that
castles among them Stolzenfels and this was liis first opportunity of bearing
the Brothers — looked down upon them any distinguished virtuoso upon the piano
from their rocky heights, as long after- forte ,-a nistake, we think, for he must
warıls upon the American, Paul Flem- have heard Mozart in Vienna, as before
ming, when he journeyed, sick at heart, remarked. Still, the delicacy of Sierkel's
along the Rhine, toward ancient Heidel- style may well have been a new revela
berg. Quaint old cities Andernach , tion to him of the powers of the instru
with “ the Christ,” Coblentz, home of ment. Upon leaving the piano-forte, the
Beethoven's mother, Bopparıl , Bacha- master invited his young visitor to take
rach , Bingen - welcomed them ; Mainz, his place. Beethoven was naturally dif
the Electoral city, and Frankfurt, seat of fident, anıl was not to be prevailed with,
the Empire. And still beyond, on the until Sterkel intimated a doubt whether
banks of the Main , Offenbach , Hanau , he could play his own very difficult va
Aschaffenburg, and so onwarul to Wert riations upon the air, “ Vieni, Amore,”
heim , where they left the Main and as- which had then just been published.
cended the small river Tauber to their Thus touched in a tender spot, the young
place of destination. author sat down and played such as he
Ainong the places at which they land- could remember,-no copy being at hand,
ed and made inerry upon the journey —and then improvised several others,
was the Niederwald . Ilcre King Lux equally, if not more difficult, to the sur
allvanced Beethoven to a more honorable prise both of Sterkel and liis friends.
66
position in liis court, and gave him a • What raised our surprise to real aston
diploma, dated from the heights above islument,” said Ries, as he related the
Rülesheim , attesting his appointment to story, “ was, that the impromptu varia
the new dignity.. To this important doc-
doc tions were in precisely that graceful,
ument was attached , by threads ravelled pleasing style which he had just heard
from a boat-sail , a huge seal of pitch for the first time. ”
pressed into a sinall box -cover, which Upon reaching Mergentheim , music,
gave the instrument a right imposing and ever music, became the order of
look , -like the Golden Bull in the Rö-
-

the day for King Lux and his merry sub

mer -Saal at Frankfurt. This diploma jects. Most fortunately for the adınirers
from His Comic Majesty Beethoven car- of Becthoven , we have a minute account
ried with him to Vienna, where Wegeler of two days (October 11 and 12) spent
saw it several years afterward carefully there, by a competent and trustworthy
preserved . musical critic of that period ,-a man not
At Aschaffenburg, the summer resi- the less welcome to us for possessing soine
dence of the Electors of Mainz, Rics, Sim- thing of the flunkeyism of old Diarist
858 Beethoven . [ May,
Pepys and Corsica Boswell. We shall powerful and certain tones he gave life
quote somewhat at length from his letter, and soul to the whole.
since it has hitherto come under the no- " The next morning, ( October 12,) at
66

tice of none of the biographers, and yet ten o'clock, the rehearsal for the concert
gives us so lively a picture of young began, which was to be given at court
Beethoven and his friends. at six in the afternoon . Herr Welsch
“ On the very first day," writes Junker, (oboist) had the politeness to invite me
“ I heard the small band which plays daily to be present. It was held at the lodg
at dinner, during the stay of the Elec- ings of Herr Ries, who received me with
tor at Mergentheim. The instruments a hearty sbake of the hand. Here I was
are two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, an eye-witness of the gentlemanly bear
and two horns. These eight performers ing of the members of the Chapel toward
may well be called masters in their art. each other. One heart, one mind rules
One can rarely hear music of the kind, them. “6 We know nothing of the cabals
distinguished by such perfect unity of ef- and chicanery so common ; among us the
fect and such sympathy with each oth- most perfect unanimity prevails ; we, as
er in the performiers, and especially in members ofone company, cherish for each
which so high a degree of exactness and other a fraternal affection ,' said Simrock
perfection of style is reached . This band to me.
appeared to me to differ from all others “ Here also I was an eye- witness to
I have heard in this ,-- that it plays music the esteem and respect in which this
of a higher order ; on this occasion, for chapel stands with the Elector. Just as
instance, it gave an arrangement of Mo the rehearsal was to begin, Ries was sent
zart's overture to · Don Juan.' ” for by the prince, and upon his return
It would be interesting to know what, brought a bag of gold. • Gentlemen,'
if any, of the works of Beethoven for said he, “ this being the Elector's name
6

wind- instruments belong to this period day, he sends you a present of a thousand
of his life. thalers.
“ Soon after the dinner-music ,” contin- " And again I was eye-witness of this
ues our writer, " the play began. It was orchestra's surpassing excellence. Herr
the opera, · King Theodor ,' music by Pai- Winneberger, Kapellmeister at Wallen
siello. The part of Theodor was sung by stein, laid before it a symphony of his
Herr Nüdler, a powerful singer in tragic own composition, which was by no means
scenes, and a good actor. Achmet was easy of execution, especially for the wind
given by Herr Spitzeder,-a good bass instruments, which had several solos con
singer, but with too little action, and not certante. It went finely, however, at the
always quite true, -in short, too cold. first trial, to the great surprise of the
The inn -keeper was Ilerr Lux, a very composer.
good bass, and the best actor , -a man “ An hour after the dinner-music, the
created for the comic. The part of concert began. It was opened with a sym
Lizelle was taken by Demoiselle Will- phony of Mozart ; then followed a recita
mann. She sings in excellent taste , has tive and air, sung by Simonetti; next a vio
very great power of expression, and a loncello concerto, played by Herr Rom
lively, captivating action. Herr Mändel, berger [Bernhard Romberg );3 fourthly, a
in Sandrino, proved himself also a very symphony, by Pleyel ; fifthly, an air by
fine and pleasing singer. The orchestra Righini, sung by Simonetti ; sixthly, a
was surpassingly gool, -- especially in its double concerto for violin and violoncel
piano and forle, and its careful crescen- lo, played by the two Rombergs; and the
do. Herr Ries, that remarkable reader closing piece was the symphony by Win
of scores, that groat player, directed with neberger, which had very many brilliant
his violin. He is a man who may well passages. The opinion already express
be placed beside Cannabich, and by his nance of this orches
ed as to the performar
1858.] Beethoven . 859

tra was confirmed . It was not possible splendid uniform in which the Elector
to attain a higher degree of exactness. has clothed them , -red, and richly trim
Such perfection in the pianos, forles, med with gold."
rinforzandos, -- such a swelling and grad- And now for the impression which
ual increase of tone, and then such an Beethoven , just completing his twenty
almost imperceptible dying away, from first year, made upon him .
the most powerful to the lightest accents, “ I heard also one of the greatest of
-all this was formerly to be heard only pianists,—the dear, good Beethoven , some
at Mannheim . It would be difficult to compositions by whom appeared in the
find another orchestra in which the vio Spires • Blumcnlese ' in 1783 , written in
lins and basses are throughout in such his eleventh year. True, he did not per
excellent hands. " form in public, probably because the in
We pass over Junker's enthusiastic strument here was not to his mind. It is
description of the two Rombergs, merely one of Spath's make, and at Bonn he
remarking, that everyword in his account plays upon one by Steiner. But, what
of them is fully confirmed by the musi- was infinitely preferable to me, I heard
cal periodical press of Europe during the him extemporize in private ; yes, I was
entire periods of thirty and fifty years of even invited to propose a theme for him
their respective lives after the date of the to vary. The greatness of this amiable,
letter before us , —and that their playing light -hearted man , as a virtuoso, may, in
was undoubtedly the standard Beethoven my opinion, be safely estimated from his
had in view, when afterward writing pas- almost inexhaustible wealth of ideas, the
sages for bowed instruments, which so altogether characteristic style of expres
often proved stumbling -blocks to orches- sion in his playing, and the great execu
tras of no sinall pretensions. What tion which he displays. I know, there
Junker himself saw of the harmony and fore, no one thing which he lacks, that
brotherly love which marked the social conduces to the greatness of an artist.
intercourse of the members of the Chapel I have heard Vogler upon the piano-forte,
was confirmed to him by the statements --of his organ -playing I say nothing, not
of others. He adds, respecting their having heard him upon that instrument -
personal bearing towards others,—“ The have often heard him, heard him by the
demeanor of these gentlemen is very hour together, and never failed to wonder
fine and unexceptionable. They are all at his astonishing execution ; but Beet
people of great clegance of manner and hoven, in addition to the execution, has
of blameless lives. Greater discretion greater clearness and weight of idea, and
of conduct can nowhere be found . At more expression, - in short, he is more
the concert, the ill-starred performers for the heart, -equally great, therefore,
were so crowded, so incommoded by the as an adagio or allegro player. Even
multitude of auditors, so surrounded and the members of this remarkable orchestra
pressed upon, as hardly to have room to are, without exception, his admirers, and
move their arms, and the sweat rolled all ear whenever he plays. Yet he is
down their faces in great drops. But exceedingly modest and free from all pre ,
they bore all this calmly and with gooils tension. He, however, acknowledged to
humor ; not an ill -natured face was visi- me, that, upon the journeys which the
ble among them. At the court of some Elector had enabled him to make, he had
little prince , we should have seen , under seldom found in the playing of the most
the circumstances, folly heaped upon folly. distinguished virtuosos that excellence
“ The members of the Chapel, almost which he supposed he had a right to
without exception, are in their best years expect. His style of treating his instru
glowing with health, men of culture and ment is so different from that usually
fine personal appearance. They form adopted, that it impresses one with the
truly a fine sight, when one adds the idea, that by a path of his own discovery
 860 Beethoven . [May,
he has attained that height of excellence ed away, but still Vienna remained the
whereon he pow stands. great metropolis of music ; and thither his
“ Had I acceded to the pressing en- hopes and wishes turned . An interview
1

treaties of my friend Beethoven, to which with Ilaydn added strength to these hopes
Herr Winneberger added his own, and and wishes. This was upon Haydn's re
remained another day in Mergentheim, turn , in the spring of 1792, after his first
I have no doubt he would have played to visit to London, where he had composed
me hours; and the day, thus spent in the for and directed in the concerts of that
society of these two great artists, would Johann Peter Salomon in whose house
have been transformed into aa day of the Beethoven first saw the light. The vet
highest bliss. " cran composer, on his way home , came to
Doubtless, Herr Junker, judging from Bonn, and there accepted an invitation
the enthusiasm with which you have writ- from the Electoral Orchestra to a break
ten, it would have been so ; and for our fast in Godesberg. Ilere Beethoven was
sake, as well as your own , we heartily introduced to him , and placed before him
wish you had remained ! a cantata which he had offered for per
Again in Bonn,—the young master's formance at Mergentheim , the preceding
last year in his native city,—that petite autumn, but which had proved too diffi
perle. It was a fortunate circumstance cult for the wind -instruments in certain
for the development of a genius so pow . passages. Haydn examined it carefully,
erful and original, that the place was not ' and encouraged him to continue in the
one of such importance as to call thither path of musical composition. Neefe also
any composer or pianist of very great hints to us that Haydn was greatly im
eminence,-such a one as would have pressed by the skill of the young man as
ruled the musical sphere in which he a piano-forte virtuoso.
moved, and become an object of imita- Happily, Becthoven was now, as we
tion to the young student. Beethoven's have seen, free from the burden of sup
instructors and the musical atmosphere porting his young brothers, and needed
in which he lived and wrought were but the means for his journey.
fully able to ground him firmly in the “ In November of last year," writes
laws and rules of the art, without re- Necfe, in 1793, “ Ludwig van Beetho
straining the natural bent of his genius. ren, second court organist, and indis
His taste for orchestral music, even , was putably one of the first of living pianists,
developed in no particular school, formed left Bonn for Vienna, to perfect himself
upon no single model,-the Electoral band in composition under Ilaydn. Haydn
playing, with equal care and spirit, music intended to take him with him upon a
from the presses of Vienna, Berlin , Mu- second journey to London, but nothing
nich, Mannheim , Paris, London. Mozart, has come of it.”
however, was Beethoven's favorite, and A few days or weeks, then, before com
his influence is unmistakably impressed pleting his twenty -second year, Beetho
upon many of the early compositions of ven entered Vienna a second time, to
bis young admirer. enjoy the example and instructions of
But the youthful genius was fast becom- him who was now universally acknowl
ing so superior to all around him, that a edged the head of the musical world ; to
measure his powers upon the piano-forte
wider field was necessary for his full de-
velopment. He needed the opportunity with the greatest virtuosos then living; to
to measure his powers with those of the start upon that career, in which, by un
men who stood, by general consent, at wearied labor, indomitable perseverance ,
the head of the art; he felt the necessity and never-tiring effort,-alike under the
of instruction by teachers of a different smiles and the frowns of fortune, in sick
and higher character, if any could be ness and in health, and in spite of the
found . Mozart, it is true, had just pass- saddest calamity which can befall the true
1858.] A Word to the Wise. 861

artist, —he elevated biinself to a position , sense of probity and honor was most
which, by every competent judge, is held acute, that he was far above any, the
co be the highest yet attained in perhaps slightest, meanness of thought or action,
the grandest department of pure music. of a noble and magnanimous order of
Beethoven came to Vienna in the full mind, utterly destitute of any feeling of
vigor of youth just emerging into man- servility which rendered it possible for
hood . The clouds which had settled him to cringe to the rich and the great,
over his childhood had all passed away. and that be ever acted from a deep sense
All looked bright, joyous, and hopeful. of moral obligation ,--all this his whole
Though, perhaps, wanting in some of the subsequent history proves. His merit,
graces and refinements of polite life, it is both as an artist and a man , met at once
clear, from his intimacy with the Breuning full recognition .
family, his consequent familiarity with the And here for the present we leave
best society at Bonn, the unchanging him , moving in Vienna, as in Bonn, in
kindness of Count Waldstein, the explicit the higher circles of society , in the full
testimony of Junker, that he was not, sunshine of prosperity, enjoying all that
could not have been, the young savage his ardent nature could demand of es
which some of his blind admirers have teem and admiration in the saloons of
represented him. The bare supposition the great, in the society of his brother
is an insult to his memory . That his artists, in the popular estimation.

A WORD TO THE WISE.

LOVE hailed a little maid,
Romping through the meadow :
Heedless in the sun she played ,
Scornful of the shadow .
“ Come with me,” whispered he ;
• Listen, sweet, to love and reason.
66
By and by," she mocked reply ;
“ Love's not in season .”

Years went, years came ;

Light mixed with shadow .
Love met the maid again,
Dreaming through the meadow .
“ Not so coy,” urged the boy ;
“ List in time to love and reason . "
66
• By66and by,” she mused reply ;
" Love's still in season .”

Years went, years came ;

Light changed to shadow .
Love saw the maid again,
Waiting in the meadow .
“ Pass no more ; my dream is o'er ;
I can listen now to reason ."
“ Keep thee coy,” mocked the boy ;
" Love's out of season . "
802 Henry Ward Beecher. [May,

HENRY WARD BEECHER . *

There are more than thirty thousand manity, not merely of special toil. Trade
preachers in the United States, whereof closes the shop ; his business-pen, well
twenty-eight thousand are Protestants, wiped, is laid up for to-morrow's use ; the
the rest Catbolics, one minister to a account-book is shut,—men thinking of
thousand men. They make an exceed- their trespasses as well as their debts.
ing great army,-mostly serious, often For six days, aye, and so many nights,
self-denying and earnest. Nay, some- Broadway roars with the great stream
times you find them men of large talent, which sets this way and that, as wind
perhaps even of genius. No thirty thou- and tide press up and down. How noisy
sand farmers, mechanics, lawyers, doctors, is this great channel of business, wherein
or traders have so much of that book- Humanity rolls to and fro, now running
learning which is popularly called “ Edu- into shops, now sucked down into cellars,
cation ." then dashed high up the tall, steep banks,
No class has such opportunities for to come down again a continuous drip
influence, such means of power ; even and be lost in the general flood ! What
now the press ranks second to the pulpit. a fringe of foam colors the margin on
Some of the old traditional respect for cither side, and what gay bubbles float
the theocratic class continues in service, therein , with more varied gorgeousness
and waits upon the ninisters. It has than the Queen of Sheba dreamed of
come down from Celtic and Teutonic putting on when she courted the eye of
fathers, hundreds of years behind us , Hebrew Solomon ! Sunday, this noise is
who transferred to a Roman priesthood still. Broadway is a quiet stream , look
the allegiance once paid to the servants ing sober, or even dull ; its voice is but
of a deity quite different from the Cath- a gentle murmur of many waters calmly
olic. The Puritans founded an ecclesi- flowing where the ecclesiastical gates are
astical oligarchy which is by no means open to let them in. The channel of
ended yet ; with the most obstinate “ lib- business has shrunk to a little churcb
erty of prophesying " there was mixed a canal. Even in this great Babel of com
certain respect for such as only wore the merce one day in seven is given up to
prophet's mantle ; nor is it wholly gone . the minister. The world may have the
What personal means of controlling other six ; this is for the Church ;—for so
the public the minister has at his com have Abram and Lot divided the field of
mand ! Of their own accord , men as Time, that there be no strife between
semble and meet together," and look up the rival herdsmen of the Church and
to him . In the country, the town-roads the World . Sunday morning, Time rings
centre at the meeting -house, which is also the bell. At the familiar sound, by long
the terminus a qun,the golden -mile -stone, habit born in them , and older than mem
whence distances are measured off. Once ory, men assemble at the meeting -house,
a week, the wheels of business, and even nestle themselves devoutly in their snug
of pleasure, drop into the old customary pews, and button themselves in with
ruts, and turn thither. Sunday morning, wonted care . There is the shepherd,
all the land is still. Labor puts off his and here is the flock , fenced off into so
iron apron and arrays him in clean hu- many little private pens. With dumb,
inan clothes, -a symbol of universal hu- yet eloquent patience, they look up list
less, perhaps longing, for such fodder as
* Life Thoughts, gathered from the Extem
poraneous Discourses of Henry Ward Beecher . he may pull out from his spiritual mot
By a Meinber of his Congregation. Boston : and shake down before them . What he
Phillips, Sampson & Co. 1858. pp. 299 . gives they gather.
1858.] Henry Ward Beecher. 863

Other speakers must have some mag- olence, piety are the prizes the game is
netism of personal power or public repu- for. He digs through the dazzling sand ,
tation to attract men ; but the minister and bids men build on the rock of ages.
can dispense with that ; to him men an- Surely, no men have such opportunity
swer before he calls, and even when they of speech and power as these thirty thou
are not sent by others are drawn by him. sand ministers. What have they to show
Twice a week, nay, three times, if he for it all ? The hunter, fisher, woodman ,
will, do they lend him their ears to be miner, farmer, mechanic, bas each his
filled with his words. No man of science special wealth. What have this multi
en.
or letters has such access to men. Be- tude of ministers to show ?-how much
sides, he is to speak on the grandest of all knowledge given , what wisc guidance ,
themes ,-- of Man, of God , of Religion, what inspiration of humanity ? Let the
man's deepest desires, his loftiest aspir- best men answer.
ings. Before him the rich and the poor This ministerial army may be separated
meet together, conscious of the one God , into three divisions. First, the Church
Master of them all, who is no respecter Militant, the Fighting Church, as the ec
of persons. To the minister the children clesiastical dictionaries define it. Rev
look up,and their pliant faces are mould- erend men serve devoutly in its ranks.
ed by his plastic band. The young men Their work is negative, oppositional.
and maidens are there,-such possibility Under various banners, with diverse ,
of life and character before them , such and discordant war -cries, trumpets bray
hope is there, such faith in man and God, ing a certain or uncertain sound, and
as comes instinctively to those who have weapons of strange pattern , though made
youth on their side. There are the old : of trusty steel, they do battle against the
men and women with white crowns on enemy. What shots from antique pis
their heads ; faces which warn and scare tols, matchlocks, from crossbows and cat
with the ice and storm of eighty winters, apults, are let fly at the foe ! Now the
or guide and charm with the beauty of champion attacks “ New Views,” “ Ultra
four- score summers, - rich in promise ism ," “ Neology,” “ Innovation,” “ Dis
once, in harvest now. Very beautiful content, " “ Carnal Reason " ; then he lays
is the presence of old men, and of that lance in rest, and rides valiantly upon
venerable sisterhood whose experienced “ Unitarianism ,” “Popery,",” “ Infidelity,"
temples are turbaned with the raiment of “ Atheism ,” “ Deisn , " " Spiritualism ” ;
such as have come out of much tribula- and though one by one he runs them
tion , and now shine as white stars fore- through, yet he never quite slays the
telling an eternal day. Young men all Evil One ; — the severed limbs unite
-

around, a young man in the pulpit, the again, and a new monster takes the old
old men's look of experienced life says one's place. It is serious men who make
“ Amen ” to the best word , and their up the Church Militant ,-grim , earnest,
countenance is a benediction . valiant. If mustered in the ninth centu
The minister is not expected to appeal ry, there had been no better soldiers nor
to the selfish motives which are addressed elder.
by the market, the forum , or the bar, but Next is the Church Termagant. They
to the eternal principle of Right. He are the Scolds of the Church -hold, terrible
must not be guided by the statutes of from the beginning hitherto. Their work
men, changeable as the clouds, but must is denouncing; they have always a bur
fix his eye on the bright particular star den against something. Obsta decisis is
of Justice, the same yesterflay, to -day their motto , — “ Hate all that is agreed
and forever. To him, office, money, upon.” When the “ contrary -minded ”
social rank, and fame are but toys or are called for, the Church Termagant
counters which the game of life is played holds up its hand. A turbulent people,
withal; while wisdom , integrity, benev- and a troublesome, are these sons of
864 Henry Ward Beecher. [May,
thunder, - a brotherhood of universal yet all are of one persuasion, the broth
come -outers. Their only concord is dis- erhood of Humanity, —for the one spirit
agreement. It is not often, perhaps, that loves manifoldness of form . They troub
they have better thoughts than the rest le themselves little about Sin, the uni
of men , but a superior aptitude to find versal but invisible enemy whom the
fault ; their growling proves, 66 not that Church Termagant attempts to shell and
themselves are wise, but others weak.” dislodge ; but are very busy in attacking
So their pulpit is a brawling -tub, “ full Sins. These ministers of religion would
of sound and fury, signifying nothing ." rout Drunkenness and Want, Ignorance,
They have a deal of thunder, and much Idleness , Lust, Covetousness, Vanity ,
lightning, but no light, nor any continu- Hate, and Pride,-vices of instinctive
ous warinth , only spasms of heat. Oili passion or reflective ambition . Yet the
presentem lauılare absentem ,—the Latin work of these men is to build up ; they
tells their story . They come down and cut down the forest and scare off the
trouble every Bethesda in the world , but wild beasts only to replace them with civil
heal none of the impotent folk. To crops,-cattle, coru , and men. Instead of
then , the howling wilderness, they would have
“ Of old things, all are over old, the village or the city, full of comfort and
Of new things, none is new enough ." wealth and musical with knowledge and
with love. Ilow often are they misun
They have a rage for fault-finding, and derstood ! Some savage hears the ring
betake themselves to the pulpit as others of the axe , the crash of falling timber, or
are sent to Bedlam . Men of all denomi- the rifle's crack and the drop of wolf or
nations are here, and it is a deal of mis- bear, and cries out, “ A destructive and
chief they do,—the worst, indirectly, by dangerous man ; he has no reverence
making a sober man distrust the religious for the ancient wilderness, but would
faculty they appeal to, and set his face abolish it and its inhabitants ; away with
against all mending of anything, no mat- him ! ” But look again at this destroy
ter how badly it is broken. These Theu- er, and in place of the desert woods,
dases, boasting themselves to be some- lurked in by a few wild beasts and wild
boly, and leading men off to perish in er men, behold , a whole New England
9

the wilderness, frighten every sober man of civilization has come up ! The minis
from all thought of moving out of his ter of this Church of the Good Samari
bad neighborhood or seeking to make tans delivers the poor that cry , and the
it better. — But this is a small portion fatherless, and him that hath none to help
of the ecclesiastic host. Let us be tol- him ; he makes the widow's heart sing
crant to their noise and bigotry. for joy, and the blessing of such as are
Last of all is the Church Beneficent or ready to perish comes on him ; he is
Constructant. Their work is positive, eyes to the blind, fect to the lame; the
critical of the old, creative also of the cause of evil which he knows not he
new. They take hold of the strongest of searches out ; breaking the jaws of the
all human faculties,—the religious, -and wicked to pluck one spirit out of their
use this great river of God, always full teeth. In a world of ork , he would
of water, to moisten hill-side and mead- have no idler in the market-place ; in a
ow, to turn lonely saw -mills, and drive world of bread, he would not eat his mor
the wheels in great factories, which make
sel alone while the fatherless has nought;
a metropolis of manufactures,—to bear nor would he see any perish for want of
alike the lumberman's logs and the trad- clothing. He knows the wise God made
er's ships to their appointed place ; the man for a good end , and provided ade
stream feeding many a little forget-me- quate means thereto ; so he looks for
not, as it passes by. Men of all denomi- them where they were placed, in the
nations belong to this Church Catholic ; world of matter and of men, not outside
1858.] Henry Ward Beecher. 865

of either. So while he entertains every eral stump-speakers were specially de

old Truth , he looks out also into the crowd tailed to overtake and offset him. But
of new Opinions, hoping to find others of the one man surrounded the many.
their kin : and the new thought does not Scarcely is there a Northern minister so
lodge in the street; he opens his doors to bitterly hated at the South. The slave
the traveller, not forgetful to entertain traders, the border-ruffians, the purchased
strangers,-knowing that some bave also officials know no Higher Law ; “ nor Hale
thereby entertained angels unawares. nor Devil can make them afraid ” ; yet
He does not fear the great multitude, they fear the terrible whip of Henry
nor does the contempt of a few families Ward Beecher.
make him afraid . The time has not come — may it long
This Church Constructant has a long be far distant !—to analyze bis talents and
apostolical succession of great men, and count up his merits and defects. But
many nations are gathered in its fold . there are certain obvious excellences
And what a variety of beliefs it has ! which account for his success and for
But while each man on his private ac- the honor paid him .
count says, CREDO, and believes as he Mr. Beecher has great strength of in
must and shall, and writes or speaks stinct,— of spontaneous human feeling.
bis opinions in what speech he likes Many men lose this in “ getting an edu
best, — they all, with one accordant cation ” ; they bave tanks of rain -water,
mouth, say likewise, FACIAMUS, and barrels of well-water ; but on their prem
betake them to the one great work of ises is no spring, and it never rains there.
developing man's possibility of knowl- A mountain -spring supplies Mr. Beecher
edge and virtue. with fresh, living water.
Mr. Beecher belongs to this Church He has great love for Nature, and sees
Constructant. He is one of its eminent the symbolical value of material beauty
members, its most popular and effective and its effect on man .
preacher. No minister in the United He has great fellow -feeling with the
States is so well known, none so widely joys and sorrows of men. Hence he is
beloved . He is as well known in Otta always on the side of the suffering, and
wa as in Broadway. He has the largest especially of the oppressed ; all his ser
Protestant congregation in America, and mons and lectures indicate this. It en
an ungathered parish which no man at- ear him to millions, and also draws
tempts to number. He has church mem- upon him the hatred and loathing of a
bers in Maine, Wisconsin, Georgia, Tex- few Pharisees, some of them members .
as, California, and all the way between. of his own secto
Men look on him as a national institu- Listen to this :
tion, a part of the public property. Not “ Looked at without educated associations,
a Sunday in the year but representative there is no difference between a man' in bed
men from every State in the Union fix and a man in a coffin . And yet such is the
their eyes on him , are instructed by his power of the heart to redeem the animal life,
sermons and uplifted by his prayers. He that there is nothing more exquisitely refined
is the most popular of American lectur- and pure and beautiful than the chamber of
ers. In the celestial sphere of theologi- the house. The couch ! From the daythat the
bride sanctifies it, to the day when the aged
cal journals, his papers are the bright mother isborne from it, it stands clothed with
particular star in that constellation called loveliness and dignity. Cursed be the tongue
the “ Independent ” : men look up to and that dares speak evil of the household bed !
bless the useful light, and learn there. By its side oscillates the cradle. Not far from
it is the crib . In this sacred precinct, the
from the signs of the times. He is one mother's the heart of the fam
the childlies
of the bulwarks of freedom in Kansas , - ily. Herechamber, learns its prayer . Hither,
a detached fort. He was a great force in night by night, angels troop. It is the Holy .
the last Presidential campaign , and sev- of Holies."
VOL . I. 55
866 Henry Ward Beecher .
How well be understands the ministry
of grief !
“ A Christian man's life is laid in the loom
of time to a pattern which he does not see ,
but God does; and his heart is a shuttle . On
one side of the loom is sorrow , and on the
other is joy ;‫ ܪ‬and the shuttle, struck alter-
nately by each, flies back and forth, carrying
the thread, which is white or black, as the
pattern needs ; and in the end, when God shall
lift up the finished garment, and all its chang-
ing hues shall glance out, it will then appear
that the deep and dark colors were as needful
to beauty as the bright and high colors."
He loves children, and the boy still
fresh in his manhood .
“ When your own child comes in from the
street, and has learned to swear from the bad
boys congregated there, it is a very different
thing to you from what it was when you heard
the profanity of those boys as you passed
them . Now it takes hold of you, and makes
you feel that you are a stockholder in the pub-
lic morality . Children make men better citi
zens . Of what use would an engine be to a
ship, if it were lying loose in the hull ? It
must be fastened to it with bolts and screws,
before it can propel the vessel. Now a child
less man is just like a loose engine. A man
must be bolted and screwed to the commu-
nity before he can begin to work for its ad
vancement; and there are no such screws
and bolts as children .”
He has a most Christ-like contempt for emotion comes out in his prayers, ser
the hypocrite, whom he scourges with mons, and lectures, as the vegetative
heavy evangelical whips, —but the ten power of the earth in the manifold plants
derest Christian love for earnest men and flowers of spring.
struggling after nobleness.
Read this :
“ I think the wickedest people on earth are
those who use a force of genius to make them
selves selfish in the noblest things, keeping
themselves aloof from the vulgar and the ig
norant and the unknown ; rising higher and
higher in taste, till they sit, ice upon ice, on
the mountain -top of eternal congelation."
" Men are afraid of slight outward acts
which will injure them in the eyes of others,
while they are heedless of the damnation
which throbs in their souls in hatreds and
jealousies and revenges."
“ Many people use their refinements as
a spider uses his web, to catch the weak up-
on, that they may be mercilessly devoured .
Christian men should use refinement on this
principle : the more I have, the more I owe
to those who are less than I."
[May,
He values the substance of man more
than his accidents.
“ We say a man is made.' What do we
mean ? That he has got the control of his
lower instincts, so that they are only fuel to
his higher feelings, giving force to his 18
ture ? That his affections are like vines,
sending out on all sides blossoms and clus
tering fruits ? That his tastes are so culti
vated, that all beautiful things speak to him,
and bring him their delights ? That his un
derstanding is opened , so that he walks
through every hall of knowledge, and gathers
its treasures ? That his moral feelings are so
dev ed and quickened, that he holds sweet
commerce with Heaven ? Oh, no !-- none of
these things ! He is cold and dead in heart
and mind and soul. Only his passions are
alive; but he is worth five hundred thou
sand dollars !
“ And we say a man is ' ruined .' Are his
wife and children dead ? Oh, no ! Have they
had a quarrel, and are they separated from
him ? Oh, no ! Has he lost his reputation
through crime ? No. Is his reason gone ? Oh ,
no ! it's as sound as ever . Is he struck
through with disease ? No. He has lost his
property, and he is ruined . The mon ruined ?
When shall we learn that .a man's life con
sisteth not in the abundance of the things he
possesseth ' ” ?
Mr. Beecher's God has the gentle and
philanthropic qualitics of Jesus of Naza
reth, with omnipotence added . Religious
“ The sun does not shine for a few trees and
flowers, but for the wide world's joy. The
lonely pine on the mountain - top waves its
sombre boughs, and cries, Thou art my
sun ! ' And the little meadow - violet lifts its
cup of blue, and whispers with its perfumed
breath, “ Thou art my sun !' And the grain
6
in a thousand fields rustles in the wind, and
makes answer, 6“ Thou art my sun ! '
“ So God sits effulgent in heaven , not for
a favored few , but for the universe of life ;
and there is no creature so poor or so low, that
he may not look up with childlike confidence
6
and say, ' My Father ! thou art mine ! ' "
“ When once the filial feeling is breathed
into the heart, the soul cannot be terrified by
augustness, or justice, or any form of Divine
grandeur; for then, to such a one, all the al
tributes of God are but so many arms stretched
abroad through the universe, to gather and to
 1858.] Henry Ward Beecher.
press to his bosom those whom he loces. The
greater he is, the gludder are we, so that he be
our Father still.
“ But, if one consciously turns away from
God, or fears him , the nobler and grander the
representation be, the more terrible is his
conception of the Divine Adversary that
frowns upon him . The God whom love be-
holds rises upon the horizon like mountains
which carry summer up their sides to the very
top ; but that sternly just God whom sinners
fear stands cold against the sky, like Mont
Blanc; and from his icy sides the soul, quick
ly sliding, plunges headlong down to unre
called destruction."
He has hard words for such as get
only the form of religion, or but little of
its substance.
“ There are some Christians whose secular
life is an arid, worldly strife, and whose re-
ligion is but a turbid sentimentalism . Their
life runs along that line where the overflow of
the Nile meets the desert. It is the boundary
line between sand and mud."
“ That gospel which sanctions ignorance and
oppression for three millions of men , what fruit
or flower has it to shake down for the healing
of the nations ? It is cursed in its own roots,
and blasted in its own boughs. "
“ Many of our churches defy Protestantism .
Grand cathedrals are they, which make us
shiver as we enter them . The windows are
80 constructed as to exclude the light and
inspire a religious awe. The walls are of
stone, which makes us think of our last
home. The ceilings are sombre, and the
pew's coffin -colored. Then the services are.
composed to these circumstances, and hushed
music goes trembling along the aisles, and
men move softly, and would on no account
put on their bats before they reach the door ;
but when they do, they take a long breath ,
and have such a sense of relief to be in the
free air, and comfort themselves with the
thought that they've been good Christians !
“ Now this idea of worship is narrow'and
false. The house of God should be a joyons
place for the right use of all our faculties."
“ There ought to be such an atmosphere in
every Christian church , that a man going
there and sitting two hours should take the
contagion of heaven, and carry home a fire to
kindle the altar whence he came."
“ The call to religion is not a call to be better
than your fellows, but to be better than yourself.
Religion is relative to the individual."
“ My best presentations of the gospel to
you are so incomplete! Sometimes, when I
867
am alone, I have such sweet and rapturous
visions of the love of God and the truths of
his word, that I think, if I could speak to you
then, I should move your hearts. I am like a
child, who, walking forth some sunny sum
mer's morning, sees grass and flower all shin
ing with drops of dew. " Oh,' he cries, “ I'll
carry these beautiful things to my mother ! '
And, eagerly plucking them , the dew drops
into his little palm , and all the charm is gone.
There is but grass in his hand, and no longer
pearls . "
“ There are many professing Christians who
are secretly vexed on account of the charity
they have to bestow and the self -denial they
have to use. If, instead of the smooth prayers
which they do pray, they should speak out
the things which they really feel, they would
say, when they go home at night, <“ O Lord , I
met a poor curmudgeon of yours to-day, a
miserable, unwashed brat, and I gave him
sixpence, and I have been sorry for it ever
since '; or , ' O Lord , if I had not signed those
articles of faith, I might have gone to the
theatre this evening. Your religion deprives
me of a great deal of enjoyment, but I mean
to stick to it. There's no other way of get
ting into heaven , I suppose .'
“ The sooner such men are out of the
church, the, better.”
“ The youth -time of churches produces en
terprise; their age, indolence; but even this
might be borne, did not these dead men sit in
the door of their sepulchres, crying out against
every living man who refuses to wear the livery
of death. In India, when the husband dies,
they burn his widow with him . I am almost
tempted to think , that, if, with the end of
every pastorate, the church itself were dis
banded and destroyed, to be gathered again
by the succeeding teacher, we should thus
secure an immortality of youth .”
“ A religious life is not a thing which spends
itself. It is like a river, which widens con
tinually, and is never so broad or so deep as
at its mouth, where it rolls into the ocean of
eternity.”
« God made the world to relieve an over- full
creative thought,-as musicians sing, as we
talk, as artists sketch, when full of sugges
tions. What profusion is there in his work !
When trees blossom , there is not a single
breastpin , but a whole bosom full of gems;
and of leaves they have so many suits, that
they can throw them away to the winds all
summer long. What unnumbered cathedrals
has he reared in the forest shades, vast and
grand, full of curious carvings, and haunted
evermore by tremulous music ! and in the
heavens above, how do stars seem to have
868 Henry Ward Beecher.
flown out of his hand, faster than sparks out
1
of a mighty forge !
“ Oh, let the soul alone ! Let it go to God as
best it may ! It is entangled enough. It is
hard enough for it to rise above the distrac-
tions which environ it. Let a man teach the
rain how to fall, the clouds how to shape
themselves and move their airy rounds, the
seasons how to cherish and garner the ani.
versal abundance ; but let him not teach a
soul to pray, on whom the Holy Ghost doth
brood ! ”
He recognizes the difference between
religion and theology.
" How sad is that field from which battle
hath just departed ! By as much as the val
ley was exquisite in its loveliness, is it now
sublimely sad in its desolation . Such to me
is the Bible, when a fighting theologian has
gone through it.
" How wretched a spectacle is a garden into
which the cloven -footed beasts have entered !
That which yesterday was fragrant, and shone
all over with crowded beauty , is to -day rooted ,
despoiled, trampled , and utterly devoured, and
all over the ground you shall find but the re
jected cuds of flowers and leaves, and forms
that have been champed for their juices and
then rejected. Such to me is the Bible, when
the pragmatic prophecy -monger and the swin
ish utilitarian have toothed its fruits and
craunched its blossoms.
“ O garden of the Lord ! whose seeds drop
ped down from heaven, and to whom angels
bear watering dews night by night! O flow
ers and plants of righteousness ! O sweet and
holy fruits ! We walk among you , and gaze
with loving eyes, and rest under your odor
ous shadows ; nor will we, with sacrilegions
hand, tear you , that we may search the secret
of your roots, nor spoil you , that we may
know how such wondrous grace and goodness
are evolved within you ! ”
“ What a pin is, when the diamond has
dropped from its setting, is the Bible, when its
emotive truths have been taken away. What
a babe's clothes are, when the babe has slipped
out of them into death and the mother's arms
clasp only raiment, would be the Bible, if
the Babe of Bethlehem , and the truths of
deep - heartedness that clothed his life, should
slip out of it."
“ There is no food for soul or body which
God has not symbolized. He is light for the
eye, sound for the ear, bread for food, wine
for weariness, peace for trouble. Every fac-
ulty of the soul, if it would but open its door,
might see Christ standing over against it, and
silently asking by his smile , " Shall I come in
[May ,
unto thee ? ' But men open the door and
look down, not up, and thus see him not. So
it is that men sigh on , not knowing what the
soul wants, but only that it needs something.
Our yearnings are homesickness for heaven ;
our sighings are for God ; just as children that
cry themselves asleep away from home, and
sob in their slumber, know not that they sob
for their parents. The soul's inarticulate
moanings are the affections yearning for the
Infinite, but having no one to tell them what
it is that ails them .”
“ I feel Sensitive about theologies. Theolo
sy is good in its place; but when it puts its
hoof upon a living, palpitating, human heart,
my heart cries out against it."
“ There are men marching along in the
company of Christians on earth , who, when
they knock at the gate of heaven, will hear
God answer , I never knew you.' - ' But
the ministers did, and the church -books did.'
– That may be. I never did.'
" It is no matter who knows a man on
earth , if God does not know him ."
“ The heart-knowledge, through God's
teaching, is true wealth , and they are often
poorest who deem themselves most rich. I,
in the pulpit, preach with proud forms to
many a humble widow and stricken man who
might well teach me. The student, spectacled
and gray with wisdom, and stuffed with lum
bered lore, may be childish and ignorant be
side some old singing saint who brings the
wood into his study, and who, with the lens
of his own experience, brings down the orbs
of truth , and beholds through his faith and
his humility things of which the white- haired
scholar never dreamed ."
He has eminent integrity, is faith
ful to his own soul, and to every delc
gated trust. No words are needed bere
as proof. His life is daily argument
The public will understand this ; men
whose taste he offends, and whose the
ology he shocks, or to whose philosophy
he is repugnant, have confidence in the
integrity of the man . He means what
he says, —is solid all through.
" From the beginning, I educated myself to
speak along the line and in the current of my
moral convictions; and though , in later days,
it has carried me through places where thero
were some batterings and bruisings, yet I
have been supremely grateful that I was led
to adopt this course . I would rather speak
the truth to ten men than blandishments and
lying to a million. Try it, ye who think thero
1858. ] Henry Ward Beecher . 869

is nothing in it ! try what it is to speak with scholars, to minds disciplined by long

God behind you , -- to speak so as to be only habits of thought, but to men with com
the arrow in the bow which the Almighty mon education , careful and troubled
draws."
about many things; and they kcep his
With what affectionate tenderness does words and ponder them in their hearts.
this great, faithful soul pour out his love So he has the diffuseness of a wide nat
to his own church ! He invites men toural field , which properly spreads out
the communion -service. its clover, dandelions, dock, buttercups,
“ Christian brethren , in heaven you are grasses, violets, with here and there a
kuown by the name of Christ. On earth , for delicate Arethusa that seems to have run
convenience's sake, you are known by the under this sea of common vegetation and
name of Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Meth coine up in a strange place. He has not
odists, Congregationalists, and the like. Let
me speak the language of heaven, and call the artificial condensation of a garden,
where luxuriant Nature assumes the form
you simply Christians. Whoever of you bas
known the name of Christ, and feels Christ's of Art. His dramatic power makes his
life beating within him , is invited to remain sermon also аa life in the pulpit ; his aurii
aud sit with us at the table of the Lord .” torium is also a theatrum , for he acts to
And again, when a hundred were the eye what he addresses to the ear, and
added to his church, be says : at once wisdom enters at the two gates.
The extracts show his power of thought
“ My friends, my heart is large to-day. I
am like a tree upon which rains have fallen till and speech as well as of feeling. Here
every leaf is covered with drops of dew ; and are specimens of that peculiar humor
no wind goes through the boughs but I hear which appears in all his works.
the pattering of some thought of joy and grat
itude. I love you all more than ever before. " Sects and Christians that desire to be
You are crystalling to me ; your faces are known by the undue prominence of some
radiant ; and I look through your eyes, as single feature of Christianity are necessarily
through windows, into heaven . I behold in imperfect just in proportion to the distinct
each of you an imprisoned angel, that is yet ness of their peculiarities. The power of
to burst forth , and to live and shine in the Christian truth is in its unity and symmetry,
better sphere." and not in the saliency or brilliancy of any of
its special doctrines. If among painters of the
He has admirable power of mak- human face and form there should spring up
ing a popular statement of his opinions. a sect of the eyes, and another sect of the
He does not analyze a matter to its last nose, a sect of the hand, and a sect of the foot,
clements, put the ultimate facts in a row and all of them should agree but in the one
and find out their causes or their law of thing of forgetting that there was a living
spirit behind the features more important
action, nor aim at large synthesis of gen- than them all, they would too much resemble
eralization, the highest effort of philoso the schools and cliques of Christians ; for the
phy, which groups things into a whole ;- spirit of Christ is the great essential truth ;
it is commonly thought both of these pro doctrines are but the features of the face, and
ordinances but thc hands and feet. "
cesses are out of place in meeting-houses
and lecture-balls, —that the people can
Here are some separate maxims :
comprehend neither the one nor the oth
cr ;—but he gives a popular view of the " It is not well for a man to pray cream and
thing to be discussed, which can be un- live skim -milk ."
derstood on the spot without painful re- “ The mother's heart is the child's school
flection. He speaks for the car which room .”
takes in at once and understands. He “ They are not reformers who simply abhor
evi) . Such men become in the end abhorrent
never makes attention painful. He illus
themselves."
trates his subject from daily life ; the
“ There are many troubles which you can't
fields, the streets, stars, flowers, music,
and babies are his favorite emblems. He
cure by the Bible and the Hymn -book, but
which you can cure by a good perspiration
remembers that he does not speak to and a breath of fresh air."
870 Henry Ward Beecher.
“ The most dangerous infidelity of the
day is the infidelity of rich and orthodox
churches."
“ The fact that a nation is growing is God's
own charter of change."
“ There is no class in society who can so ill
afford to undermine the conscience of the
community, or to set it loose froin its moor-
ings in the eternal sphere, as merchants who
live upon confidence and credit. Anything
which weakens or paralyzes this is taking
beams from the foundations of the merchant's
own warehouse."
“ It would almost seem as if there were a
certain drollery of art which leads men who
[May,
to drive it home upon another. The worst
lies, therefore, are those whose blade is false,
but whose handle is true."
" It is not conviction of truth which does
men good ; it is moral consciousness of
truth ."
“ A conservative young man has wound up
his life before it was unreeled. We expect
old men to be conservative ; but when a na
tion's young men are so, its funeral-bell is
already rung."
Night-labor, in time, will destroy the stu
dent ; for it is marrow from his own bones
with which he fills his lamp."
.

think they are doing one thing to do another A great-hearted , eloquent, fervent, live
and very different one. Thus, men have set
up in their painted church - windows the sym
man, full of religious emotion, of human
bolisms of virtues and graces, and the images ity and love, -no wonder he is dear to
of saints, and even of Divinity itself. Yet the people of America. Long may be
vow, what does the window do but mock the bring instruction to the lecture associa
separations and proud isolations of Christian tions of the North ! Long may he stand
men ? For there sit the audience, each one in his pulpit at Brooklyn with his heav
taking a separate color ; and there are blue
Christians and red Christians, thereare yel- enly candle,which goeth not out at all
low saints and orange saints,there are purple by day, to kindle the devotion and piety
Christians and green Christians ; but how few of the thousands who cluster around him,
are simple, pure, white Christians, uniting all and carry thence light and warmth to all
the cardinal graces, and proud , not of sepa- the borders of the land !
rate colors, but of the whole manhood of
Christ ! ” We should do injustice to our own feel
“ Every mind is entered, like every house, ings, did we not, in closing, add a word
through its own door.” of hearty thanks and commendation to
" Doctrine is nothing but the skin of Truth the Member of Mr. Beecher's Congre
set up and stuffed.” gation to whom we are indebted for
Compromise is the word that men use a volume that has given us so much
when the Devil gets a victory over God's pleasure. The selection covers a wide
cause ." range of topics, and testifies at once to
“ A man in the right, with God on his side, the good taste and the culture of the
is in the majority, though he be alone; for editress. Many of the finest passages
God is inultitudinous above all populations
of the earth .” were conceived and uttered in the rapid
inspiration of speaking, and but for her
But this was first said by Frederic admiring intelligence and care, the elo
Douglas, and better : “ One with God is quence, wit, and wisdom , which are here
a majority. " preserved to us, would have faded into
“ A lie always needs a truth for a handle to air with the last vibration of the preach
it ; else the hand would cut itself, which soughter's voice.
 1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 871

MERCEDES.

UNDER a sultry, yellow sky,

On the yellow sand I lie ;
The crinkled vapors smite my brain,
I smoulder in a fiery pain.

Above the crags the condor flies ;

He knows where the red gold lies,
He knows where the diamonds shine ;
If I knew, would she be mine ?

Mercedes in her hammock swings;

In her court a palm -tree Alings 1
Its slender shadow on the ground,
The fountain falls with silver sound.

Her lips are like this cactus cup ;

With my hand I crush it up ;
I tear its flaming leaves apart ;
Would that I could tear her heart !

Last night a man was at her gate ;

In the hedge I lay in wait ;
I saw Mercedes meet him there,
By the fire-flies in her hair.
I waited till the break of day,
Then I rose and stole away ;
I drove my dagger through the gate ;
Now she knows her lover's fate !

THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST - TABLE .

EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.

[ This particular record is noteworthy page or thereabouts, which, I take it for

principally for containing a paper by my granted, will be contained in the periol
friend, the Professor, with a poem or two ical where this is found, unless it differ
annexed or intercalated. I would suggest from all other publications of the kind.
to young persons that they should pass Perhaps, if such young people will lay the
over it for the present, and read, instead number aside, and take it up ten years,
of it, that story about the young man who or a little more, from the present time,
was in love with the young lady, and they may find something in it for their
in great trouble for something like nine advantage. They can't possibly under
pages, but happily married on the tenth stand it all now.]
872 The Autocrat of the Break fast- Table. [ May,
My friend, the Professor, began talking swered the Professor . – Balzac ought to
with me one day in a dreary sort of way. know , said I, if it is true that Goethe
I couldn't get at the difficulty for a good said of him that each of his stories must
while, but at last it turned out that some- have been dug out of a woman's heart.
body had been calling him an old man. But fifty- two is a high figure.
He didn't mind his students calling him Stand in the light of the window , Pro
the old man , he said . That was a tech- fessor, said I. — The Professor took up the
nical expression, and be thought that he desired position . — You have white hairs,
remembered hearing it applied to himself I said . - Had 'em any time these twen
when he was about twenty -five. It may ty years, said the Professor. – And the
be considered as a familiar and some- crow’s-foot, -pes anserinus, rather . — The
tiines endearing appellation. An Irish- Professor smiled, as I wanted him to,
woman calls her husband “the old man ,” and the folds radiated like the ridges
and he returns the caressing expression of a half -opened fan , from the outer cor
by speaking of her as “the old woman." ner of the eyes to the temples.-And
But now, said he, just suppose a case the calipers, said I. — What are the cal
like one of thesc. A young stranger is ¿pers ? he asked, curiously.- Why, the
overheard talking of you as a very nice parenthesis, said I. —Parenthesis ? said
old gentleman. A friendly and genial the Professor ; what's that ? Why, look
critic speaks of your green old age as il- in the glass when you are disposed to
lustrating the truth of some axiom you laugh, and see if your mouth isn't frained
had uttered with reference to that period in a couple of crescent lines, — so, my
of life. What I call an old man is a per- boy ( ).- It's all nonsense , said the
son with a smooth, shining crown and a Professor ; just look at my biceps ; -and
fringe of scattered white hairs, seen in he began pulling off his coat to show me
the streets on sunshiny days, stooping as his arm.- Be careful, said I ; you cau't
he walks, bearing a cane, moving cau- bear exposure to the air, at your time of
tiously and slowly ; telling old stories, life, as you could once. I will box with
smiling at present follies, living in a nar- you, said the Professor, row with you,
row world of dry habits ; one that re- walk with you , ride with you, swim with
mains waking when others have dropped you, or sit at table with you, for fifty dol
asleep, and keeps a little night-lamp- lars a side. — Pluck survives stamina, I
flame of life burning year after year, if answered .
the lamp is not upset, and there is only a The Professor went off a little out of
careful hand held round it to prevent the humor. A few weeks afterwards he
puffs of wind from blowing the flame out.
came in, looking very good -natured, and
1
That's what I call an old man . brought me a paper, which I have here,
Now, said the Professor, you don't and from which I shall read you some
mean to tell me that I have got to that portions, if you don't object. He had
yet ? Why, bless you, I am several years been thinking the matter over, he said,
short of the time when [ I knew what had read Cicero .“ De Senectute ," and
was coming , and could hardly keep from made up his mind to meet old age half
laughing ; twenty years ago he used to way. These were some of his reflections
quote it as one of those absurd speeches that he had written down ; so here you
men of genius will make, and now he is have
going to argue from it ]-several years
short of the time when Balzac says that THE PROFESSOR'S PAPER.
men are - most - you know - dangerous
to the hearts of — in short, most to be THERE is no doubt when old age be
dreaded by duennas that have charge of gins. The human body is a furnace which
susceptible females. — What age is that ? keeps in blast three-score years and ten,
said I, statistically - Fifty-two years, an- more or less. It burns about three hun
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast - Table. 873

dred pounds of carbon a year, (besides evidently considers you an entire stran
other fuel,) when in fair working order, ger ?
according to a great chemist's estimate. Old Age. - I make it aa rule never to
When the fire slackens, life declines ; force myself upon a person's recogni
when it goes out, we are dead . tion until I have known him at least five
It has been shown by some noted years.
French experimenters, that the amount Professor.Do you mean to say that
of combustion increases up to about the you bave known me so long as that ?
thirtieth year, remains stationary to about Old Age.—I do. I left my card on
forty -five, and then diminishes. This last you longer ago than that, but I am afraid
is the point where old age starts from . you never read it ; yet I see you have it
The great fact of physical life is the per with you.
petual commerce with the elements, and Professor.- Where ?
the fire is the measure of it. Old Age. — There, between your eye
About this time of life, if food is plenty brows, —three straight lines running up
where you live, - for that, you know, and down ; all the probate courts know
regulates matrimony, - you may be ex- that token , — “ Old Age, his mark .” Put
pecting to find yourself a grandfather your forefinger on the inner end of one
some fine morning ; a kind of domestic eyebrow, and your middle finger on the
felicity that gives one a cool shiver of inner end of the other eyebrow ; now
delight to think of, as among the not separate the fingers, and you will smooth
remotely possible events. out my sign -manual ; that's the way you
I don't mind much those slipshod lines used to look before I left my card on you.
Dr. Johnson wrote to Thrale, telling her Professor. — What message do people
about life's declining from thirty -five ; the generally send back when you first call
furnace is in full blast for ten years on them ?
longer, as I have said . “ The Romans Old Age.-- Not at home. Then I leave
came very near the mark ; their age of a card and go. Next year I call ; get
enlistment reached from scventeen to the same answer ; leave another card.
forty -six years. So for five or six - sometimes ten years
What is the use of fighting against the or more . At last, if they don't let me in,
seasons, or the tides, or the movements of I break in through the front door or the
the planetary bodies, or this ebb in the windows.
wave of life that flows through us ? We We talked together in this way some
are old fellows from the moment the fire time. Then Old Age said again,
begins to go out. Let us always behave come, let us walk down the street to
like gentlemen when we are introduced gether ,—and offered me a cane, an eye
to new acquaintance. glass, a tippet, and a pair of over-shoes.
No, much obliged to you, said I. ' I don't
Incipit Allegoria Senectutis. want those things, and I had aa little rather
Old Age, this is Mr. Professor ; Mr. talk with you here, privately, in my study.
Professor, this is Old Age. So I dressed myself up in a jaunty way
Old Age.—Mr. Professor, I hope to see and walked out alone ;—got a fall, caught
you well. I have known you for some a cold, was laid up with a lumbago, and
time, though I think you did not know had time to think over this whole matter.
me. Shall we walk down the street
Explicit Allegoria Senectutis.
together ?
Professor ( drawing back a little ).- We have settled when old age begins.
We can talk more quietly, perhaps, in Like all Nature's processes, it is gentle
my study. Will you tell me how it is and gradual in its approaches, strewed
you seem to be acquainted with every- with illusions, and all its little griefs
body you are introduced to, though he soothed by natural sedatives. But the
874 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [May,
iron hand is not less irresistible because ness about them that the first stage of
it wears the velvet glove. The button- the earlier periods of life shows. The
wood throws off its bark in large flakes, great delusion of mankind is in suppos
which one may find lying at its foot, ing that to be individual and exceptional
pushed out, and at last pushed off, by which is universal and according to law .
that tranquil movement from beneath, A person is always startled when he
which is too slow to be seen , but too hears himself seriously called an old man
powerful to be arrested . One finds them for the first time.
always, but one rarely sees them fall. Nature gets us out of youth into man
So it is our youth drops from us,-scales hood, as sailors are hurried on board of
off, sapless and lifeless, and lays bare the vessels ,—in a state of intoxication. We
tender and immature fresh growth of old are bustled into maturity reeling with
age. Looked at collectively, the changes our passions and imaginations, and we
of old age appear as a series of personal bave drifted far away from port before
insults and indignities, terminating at last we awake out of our illusions. But to
in death, which Sir Thomas Browne has carry us out of maturity into old age,
called “ the very disgrace and ignominy without our knowing where we are going,
of our natures.” she drugs us with strong opiates, and so
My lady's cheek can boast no more we stagger along with wide open eyes
The cranberry white and pink it wore ; that see nothing until snow enough bas
And where her shining locks divide, fallen on our heads to rouse our coma
The parting line is all too wide tose brains out of their stupid trances.
No, no ,—this will never do. Talk about There is one mark of age that strikes
men , if you will, but spare the poor me more than any of the physical ones ;
women . I mean the formation of Habits. An
We have a brief description of seven old man who shrinks into himself falls
stages of life by a remarkably good ob- into ways that become as positive and as
server. It is very presumptuous to at- much beyond the reach of outside influ
tempt to add to it, yet I have been struck ences as if they were governed by clock
with the fact that life admits of a natural work . The animal functions, as the
analysis into no less than fifteen distinct physiologists call them , in distinction
periods. Taking the five primary divi- from the organic, tend, in the process of
sions, infancy, childhood , youth, manhood, deterioration to which age and neglect
old age, cach of these has its own three united gradually lead them, to assume
periods of immaturity, complete develop the periodical or rhythmical type of
ment, and decline. I recognize an old movement. Every man's heart (this
baby at once ,—with its “pipe and mug," organ belongs, you know, to the organic
(a stick of candy and a porringer,) — so system ) has a regular mode of action ;
does everybody ; and an old child shed- but I know a great many men whose
ding its milk -teeth is only a little proto- brains, and all their voluntary existence
type of the old man shedding his perma- flowing from their brains, have a systole
nent ones. Fifty or thereabouts is only and diastole as regular as that of the
the childhood, as it were, of old age ; the heart itself. Habit is the approximation
graybeard youngster must be weaned of the animal system to the organic. It is
from his late suppers now. So you will a confession of failure in the highest func
see that you have to make fifteen stages tion of being, which involves a perpetual
at any rate, and that it would not be hard self -determination, in full view of all ex
to make twenty- five; five primary, each isting circumstances. But habit, you see,
with five secondary divisions. is an action in present circumstances from
The infancy and childhood of com- past motives. It is substituting a ris a
mencing old age have the same ingenu- tergo for the evolution of living force .
ous simplicity and delightful unconscious- When a man , instead of burning up
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 875

three hundred pounds of carbon a year, as all of us wbo ever learned it at school
has got down to two hundred and fifty, or college ought to do.
it is plain enough he must economize Cato is the chief speaker in the dia
force somewhere. Now habit is aa labor- logue. A good deal of it is 66what would
saving invention which enables a man to be called in vulgar phrase " slow .” It
get along with less fuel,—that is all; for unpacks and unfolds incidental illustra
fuel is force, you know , just as much in tions which a modern writer would look
the page I am writing for you as in the at the back of, and toss each to its pigeon
locomotive or the legs that carry it to hole. I think ancient classics and ancient
you. Carbon is the same thing, whether people are alike in the tendency to this
you call it wood , or coal, or bread and kind of expansion.
cheese. A reverend gentleman demur- An old doctor came to me once (this
red to this stateinent,-as if, because com- is literal fact) with some contrivance or
bustion is asserted to be the sine qua non other for people with broken knecpans.
of thought, therefore thought is alleged As the patient would be confined for a
to be a purely chemical process. Facts good while, he might find it dull work to
of chemistry are one thing, I told him, sit with his hands in his lap. Reading,
and facts of consciousness another. It the ingenious inventor suggested, would
can be proved to him, by a very simple be an agreeable mode of passing the time.
analysis of some of his spare elements, He mentioned, in his written account of
that every Sunday, when he does his bis contrivance, various works that might
duty faithfully, be uses up more phospho- amuse the weary hour. I remember
rus out of his brain and nerves than on only three, Don Quixote , Tom Jones,
ordinary days. But then he had his choice and Watts on the Mind .
whether to do his duty, or to neglect it,It is not generally understood that
and save his phosphorus and other com- Cicero's essay was delivered as a lyceum
bustibles. lecture, (concio popularis ,) at the Temple
It follows from all this that the forma- of Mercury. The journals (papyri) of
tion of habits ought naturally to be, as it the day ( “ Tempora Quotidiana ,” — “ Tri
is, the special characteristic of age. As bunus Quirinalis," – Præco Romanus,”
for the muscular powers, they pass their and the rest) gave abstracts of it, one of
maximum long before the time when the which I have translated and modernized ,
true decline of life begins, if we may as being a substitute for the analysis I
judge by the experience of the ring. A intended to make.
man is “stale,” I think, in their language,
soon after thirty ,-often, no doubt, much
> IV. Kal. Mart..
earlier, as gentlemen of the pugilistic pro The lecture at the Temple of Mercury,
fession are exceedingly apt to keep their last evening, was well attended by the
vital fire burning with the blower up. élite of our great city. Two hundred
-
-So far without Tully. But in the thousand sestertia were thought to have
mean time I have been reading the trea- been represented in the house. The
tise, “ De Senectute.” It is not long, but doors were besieged by a mob of shabby
a leisurely performance. The old gentle- fellows, (illolum vulgus,) who were at
man was sixty-three years of age when length quieted after two or three bad
he aildressed it to his friend T. Pompo been somewhat roughly handled ( gladio
nius Atticus, Eq., a person of distinction, jugulati). The speaker was the well
some two or three years older. We read known Mark Tully, Eq ., — the subject,
it when we are schoolboys, forget all Old Age. Mr. T. has a lean and scraggy
about it for thirty years, and then take person, with a very unpleasant excres
it up again by a natural instinct,-pro- cence upon bis nasal feature , from which
videıl always that we read Latin as we his nickname of chick-pea ( Cicero) is said
drink water, without stopping to taste it, by some to be derived. As a lecturer is
 876 The Autocrat of the Breakfust- Table. [ May,
public property, we may remark, that his weights in his day, looked at his arms
outer garment ( loga) was of cheap stuff and whimpered, “ They are dead ." Not
and somewhat worn, and that his general so dead as you, you old fool, -- says Cato ;
style and appearance of dress and man- -you never were good for anything but
ner (habitus, vestitusque) were somewbat for your shoulders and Nanks. — Pisistra
provincial. tus asked Solon what made him dare to
The lecture consisted of an imaginary be so obstinate. Old age, said Solon.
dialogue between Cato and Lælius. We The lecture was on the whole accept
found the first portion rather heavy, able, and a credit to our culture and civ
and retired a few moments for refresh- ilization.— The reporter goes on to state
* ment (pocula quædam vini).--All want that there will be no lecture next week ,
to reach old age, says Cato , and grumble on account of the expected combat be
when they get it ; therefore they are tween the bear and the barbariau . Bet
donkeys. — The lecturer will allow us to ting ( sponsio) two to one (duo ad unum )
say that he is the donkey ; we know we on the bear.
shall grumble at old age, but we want
to live through youth and manhood, in -After all, the most encouraging
spite of the troubles we shall groan over. things I find in the treatise, “ De Senec
– There was considerable prosing as to tute ,” are the stories of men who have
what old age can do and can't – True, found new occupations when growing
but not new. Certainly, old folks can't old, or kept up their common pursuits in
jump,-break the necks of their thigh- the extreme period of life. Cato learned
bones, ( femorum cervices,) if they do , Greek when he was old, and speaks of
can't crack nuts with their teeth ; can't wishing to learn the fiddle , or some such
climb a greased pole (malum inunctum instrument, ( fidibus,) after the example of
scandere non possunt); but they can tell Socrates. Solon learned something new,
old stories and give you good advice; every day, in bis old age, as he gloried to
if they know what you have made up proclaim . Cyrus pointed out with pride
your mind to do when you ask them.- and pleasure the trees he had plauted
All this is well enough, but won't set the with his own hand. [I remember a pil
Tiber on fire ( Tiberim accendere ne- lar on the Duke of Northumberland's
quaquam polest). estate at Alnwick, with an inscription in
There were some clever things enough, similar words, if not the same. That,
(dicta haud inepla,) a few of which are like other country pleasures, never wcars
worth reporting.-- Old people are accused out. None is too rich, none too poor,
of being forgetful; but they never forget none too young, none too old to enjoy it.]
where they have put their money.-- No There is a New England story I have
body is so old he doesn't think he can heard more to the point, however, than
live a year. — The lecturer quoted an any of Cicero's. A young farmer was
ancient maxim ,-Grow old early, if you urged to set out some apple -trees. — No,
would be old long, -but disputed it, said he, they are too long growing, and I
Authority, he thought, was the chief don't want to plant for other people.
privilege of age. It is not great to have The young rmer's father was spoken to
money,but fine to govern those that have about it ; but he, with better reason, al
it. — Old age begins at forty -six years, ac- leged that apple-trees were slow and life
cording to the common opinion . It is was fleeting. At last some one mentioned
not every kind of old age or of wine that it to the old grandfather of the young
grows sour with time. — Some excellent farmer. He had nothing else to do,-s0
remarks were made on immortality , but he stuck in some trees. He lived long
mainly borrowed from and credited to enough to drink barrels of cider made
Plata - Several pleasing anecdotes were from the apples that grew on those trees.
told . — Old Milo, champion of the heavy As for myself, after visiting a friend
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table.
lately, — [Do remember all the time that
this is the Professor's paper, ] - I satisfied
myself that I had better concede the
fact that — my contemporaries are not so
young as they have been ,—and that ,-
awkward as it is, science and history
agree in telling me that I can claim the
immunities and must own the humilia
tions of the early stage of senility. Ah !
but we have all gone down the hill to-
gether. The dandies of my time have
split their waistbands and taken to high
low shoes. The beauties of my recollec-
tions — where are they ? They have run
the gantlet of the years as well as I.
First the years pelted them with red roses
till their cheeks were all on fire . By and
by they began throwing white roses, and
that morning flush passed away. At last
one of the years threw a snow -ball, and
after that no year let the poor girls pass
without throwing snow -balls. And then
came rougher missiles, -ice and stones ;
and from time to time an arrow whistled,
and down went one of the poor girls. So
there are but few left ; and we don't call
those few girls, but
Ah, me ! here am I groaning just as
the old Greek sighed Ai, ai ! and the old
Roman, Eheu ! I have no doubt we
should die of shame and grief at the in-
dignities offered us by age, if it were not
that we see so many others as badly or
worse off than ourselves. We always
compare ourselves with our contempora-
ries.
[I was interrupted in my reading just
here. Before I began at the next break
fast, I read them these verses ;—I hope Just turn your foolish headandsee, -.
you will like them, and get a useful les
son from them .]
THE LAST BLOSSOM.
Though young no more, we still would dream
Of beauty's dear deluding wiles ;
The leanies of life to graybeards seem
Shorter than boyhood's lingering miles.
Who knows a woman's wild caprice ?
It played with Goethe's silvered hair,
And many a Holy Father's “ niece "
Has softly smoothed the papal chair.
877
When sixty bids us sigh in vain
To melt the heart of sweet sixteen,
We think upon those ladies twain
Who loved so well the tough old Dean .
We see the Patriarch's wintry face,
The maid of Egypt's dusky glow,
And dream that Youth and Age embrace,
As April violets fill with snow.
Tranced in her Lord's Olympian smile
His lotus-loving Memphian lies,
The musky daughter of the Nile
With plaited hair and almond eyes.
Might we but share one wild caress
Ere life's autumnal blossoms fall,
And Earth's brown, clinging lips impress
The long cold kiss that waits us all !
My bosom heaves, remembering yet
The morning of that blissful day
When Rose, the flower of spring, I met,
And gave my raptured soul away.
Flung from her eyes of purest blue,
A lasso, with its leaping chain
Light as a loop of larkspurs, flew
O'er sense and spirit, heart and brain .
Thou com'st to cheer my waning age,
Sweet vision, waited for so long !
Dove that wouldst seek the poet's cage ,
Lured by the magic breath of song !.
She blushes ! Ah, reluctant maid,
Love's drapeau rouge the truth has told !
O'er girlhood's yielding barricade
Floats the great Leveller's crimson fold !
Come to my arms !-love heeds not years ;
No frost the bud of passion knows.
Ha ! what is this my frenzy hears ?
A voice behind me uttered ,-Rose !
Sweet was her smile ,-but not for me ;
Alas, when woman looks too kind,
Some youth is walking close behind !
As to giving up because the almanac
or the Family -Bible says that it is about
time to do it, I have no intention of doing
any such thing. I grant you that I burn
less carbon than some years ago. I see
people of my standing really good for
nothing, decrepit, effete, la lèvre inféri
eure déjà pendante, with what little life
they have left mainly concentrated in
their epigastrium . But as the disease of
old age is epidemic, endemic, and spo
878 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [May,
radic, and everybody that lives long with huge outriggers, which boat I pull
enough is sure to catch it, I am going to with ten -foot sculls , -alone, of course, as
say, for the encouragement of such as it holds but one, and tips him out, if he
need it, how I treat the malady in my doesn't mind what he is about. In this I
own case . glidle around the Back Bay, down the
First. As I feel,that, when I have any- stream , up the Charles to Cambridge and
thing to do, there is less time for it than Watertown, up the Mystic, round the
when I was younger, I find that I give my wharves, in the wake of steamboats,
attention more thoroughly, and use my which have a swell after them delight
time more economically than ever before ; ful to rock upon ; I linger under the
so that I can learn anything twice as bridges,-those " caterpillar bridges," as
easily as in my earlier days. I am not my brother Professor so happily called
therefore, afraid to attack a new study. them ; rub against the black sides of old
I took up a lifficult language a very few wood -schooners ; cool down under the
years ago with good success, and think overhanging stern of some tall India
of mathematics and metaphysics by -and- man ; stretch across to the Nary -Yard,
by. where the sentinel warns me off from
Secondly. I have opened my eyes to the Ohio,-just as if I should hurt her
a good many neglected privileges and by lying in her shadow ; then strike out
pleasures within my reach, and requiring into the harbor, where the water gets
only a little courage to enjoy them . You clear and the air smells of the ocean ,
may well suppose. it pleased me to find till all at once I remember, that, if aа west
that old Cato was thinking of learning to wind blows up of a sudden, I shall drift
play the fiddle, when I had deliberately along past the islands, out of sight of the
taken it up in my old age, and satisfied dear old State -house ,-- plate, tumbler,
myself that I could get much comfort, if knife and fork all waiting at home, but
not much music, out of it. no chair drawn up at the table, -all the
Thirilly. I have found that some of dear people waiting, waiting, waiting,
those active exercises, which are com- while the boat is sliding, sliding, sliding
monly thought to belong to young folks into the great desert, where there is no
only, may be enjoyed at a much later tree and no fountain . As I don't want
period . my wreck to be washed up on one of the
A young friend has lately written an beaches in company with devils -aprons,
admirable article in one of the journals, bladder-weeds, dead horse -shocs, and
entitled, “ Saints and their Bodies.” Ap- bleached crab -shells, I turn about and
proving of his general doctrines, and flap my long, narrow wings for home.
grateful for his records of personal expe- When the tide is running out swiftly, I
rience, I cannot refuse to add my own have a splendid fight to get through the
experimental confirmation of his eulogy bridges, but always make it a rule to
of one particular form of active exercise beat,-though I have been jammed up
and amusement, namely, boating. For into pretty tight places at times, and was
the past nine years, I have rowed about caught once between a vessel swinging
during a good part of the summer, on round and the pier, until our bones ( the
fresh or salt water. My present fleet on boat's, that is) cracked as if we had been
the river Charles consists of three row- in the jaws of Behemoth. Then back to
boats. 1. A small flat-bottomed skiff of my nioorings at the foot of the Common,
the shape of a flat-iron , kept mainly to off with the rowing-dress, dash under the
lend to boys. 2. A fancy “ dory ” for two green translucent wave, return to the
pairs of sculls, in which I sometimes go garb of civilization, walk through my
out with my young folks. 3. My own Garden , take a look at my elms on the
particular water -sulky, a " skeleton " or Common , and, reaching my habitat, in
“shell ” race-boat, twenty - two feet long, consideration of my advanced period of
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 879

life, indulge in the Elysian abandonment the other vital arrangements, at every
of a huge recumbent chair. step of a trotting horse. The brains also
When I have established a pair of are shaken up like coppers in a moneyº
well-pronounced feathering -calluses on box. Riding is good , for those that are
my thumbs, when I am in training so born with a silver-mounted bridle in their
that I can do my fifteen miles at a stretch band, and can ride as much and as often
without coming to grief in any way, when as they like, without thinking all the time
I can perform my mile in eight minutes they hear that steady grinding sound as
or a little less, then I feel as if I had old the horse's jaws triturate with calm lateral
Time's head in chancery, and could give movement the bank -bills and promises
it to him at my leisure. to pay upon which it is notorious that
I do not deny the attraction of walk- the profligate animal in question feeds
ing. I have bored this ancient city day and night.
through and through in my daily travels, Instead, however, of considering these
until I know it as an old inhabitant of a kinds of exercise in this empirical way ,
Cheshire knows his cheese . Why, it was I will devote a brief space to an exami
I who, in the course of these rambles, dis- nation of them in a more scientific form .
covered that remarkable avenue called The pleasure of exercise is due first
Myrile Street, stretching in one long line to a purely physical impression, and sec
from east of the Reservoir to a precipitous ondly to a sense of power in action. The
and rudely paved cliff which looks down first source of pleasure varies of course
on the grim abode of Science, and beyond with our condition and the state of the
it to the far hills ; a promenade so deli- surrounding circums tances ; the second
cious in its repose , so cheerfully varied with the amountand kind of power, and
with glimpses down the northern slope the extent and kind of action. In all
into busy Cambridge Street with its iron forms of active exercise there are three
river of the horse-railroad, and wheeled powers simultaneously in action , the -

barges gliding back and forward over will, the muscles, and the intellect. Each
-so delightfully closing at its western of these predominates in different kinds
it, -so
extremity in sunny courts and passages of exercise. In walking, the will and mus
where I know peace, and beauty, and cles are so accustomed to work together
virtue, and serene old age must be per- and perform their task with so little ex
petual tenants , --s0 alluring to all who penditure of force, that the intellect is left
desire to take their daily stroll, in the comparatively free. The mental pleasure
words of Dr. Watts, in walking, as such, is in the sense of
power over all our moving machinery.
“ Alike unknowing and unknown,"
But in riding, I have the additional pleas
that nothing but a sense of duty would ure of governing another will, and my
bave prompted me to reveal the secret muscles extend to the tips of the animal's
of its existence. I concede, therefore, cars and to his four hoofs, instead of stop
that walking is an immeasurably fine in- ping at my hands and feet. Now in this
vention , of which old age ought con- extension of my volition and my physical
stantly to avail itself. frame into another animal , my tyrannical
Saddle -leather is in some respects even instincts and my desire for heroic strength
prefirable to sole-leather. The principal are at once gratified. When the borse
objection to it is of a financial character. ccases to have aa will of his own and his
But you may be sure that Bacon and Sy- muscles require no special attention on
denham did not recommend it for nothing your part, then you may live on horse
One's hepar, or, in vulgar language, liv- back as Wesley did , and write sermons
er,-a ponderous organ , weighing some or take naps, as you like. But you will
three or four pounds,-goes up and down observe, that, in riding on horseback, you
like the dasher of a churn in the midst of always have feeling that, after all, it
880 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [ May,
is not you that do the work, but the ani- in sixteen minutes, (if you do, for we are
mal, and this prevents the satisfaction old boys, and not champion scullers, you
from being complete. remember, then say if you begin to feel
Now let us look at the conditions of a little warmed up or not ! You can
rowing. I won't suppose you to be dis- row casily and gently all day, and you
gracing yourself in one of those niser- can row yourself blind and black in the
able tubs, tugging in which is to rowing face in ten minutes, just as you like. It
the true boat what riding a cow is to be- has been long agreed that there is no
striding an Arab. You know the Esqui- way in which a man can accomplish
maux hayak, (if that is the name of it,) so much labor with his muscles as in
don't youa ? Look at that model of one rowing. It is in the boat, then, that man
over my door. Sharp, rather ?-On the finds the largest extension of his volitional
contrary, it is a lubber to the one you and muscular existence ; and yet he may
and I must have ; a Dutch fish -wife to tax both of them so slightly, in that most
Psyche, contrasted with what I will tell delicious of exercises, that he shall men
you about-Our boat, then , is something tally write bis sermon , or bis poem , or
of the shape of a pickerel, as you look recall the remarks he has made in com
down upon his back, he lying in the sun- pany and put them in form for the public,
shine just where the sharp edge of the as well as in his easy -chair.
water cuts in among the lily-pads. It is I dare not publicly name the rare joys,
a kind of a giant poil, as one may say, the infinite delights, that intoxicate me on
tight everywhere, except in a little place some sweet June morning, when the river
in the middle, where you sit. Its length and bay are smooth as a sheet of beryl
is from seven to ten yards, and as it is green silk , and I run along ripping it up
only from sixteen to thirty inches wide in with my knife-edged shell of a boat, the
its widest part, you understand why you rent closing after me like those wounds
want those “ outriggers,” or projecting of angels which Milton tells of, but the
iron frames with the rowlocks in which scam still shining for many a long rood
the oars play. My rowlocks are five behind me. To lic still over the Flats,
feet apart; double or more than double where the waters are shallow, and see the
the greatest width of the boat. crabs crawling and the sculpins gliding
Here you are, then, afloat with a boily busily and silently beneath the boat, —to
a rod and a half long, with arms, or wings, rustle in through the long harsh grass
as you may choose to call them, stretch- that leads up some tranquil creek ,-to
ing more than twenty feet from tip to tip ; take shelter from the sunbeams under
every volition of yours extending as per- one of the thousand -footed bridges, and
fectly into them as if your spinal cord look down its interminable colonnades,
ran down the centre strip of your boat, crusted with green and oozy growths,
and the nerves of your arms tingled as studded with minute barnacles, and belt
far as the broad blades of your oars, ed with rings of dark muscles, while over
oars of spruce, balanced, leathered , and head streams and thunders that other
ringed under your own special direction. river whose every wave is aa human soul
This, in sober earnest, is the nearest ap- flowing to eternity as the river below flows
proach to flying that man has ever madle to the ocean , - lying there moored un
or perhaps ever will make. As the seen, in loneliness so profound that the
hawk sails without flapping his pinions, columns of Tadmor in the Desert could
so you drift with the tide when you will, not seem more remote from life ,the cool
in the most luxurious form of locomotion breeze on one's forehead, the stream
indulged to an embodied spirit. But if whispering against the half -sunken pil
your blood wants rousing, turn round lars,—why should I tell of these things,
that stake in the river, which you see a that I should live to see my beloved
mile from here ; and when you come in haunts invaded and the waves blackened
1858.] The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. 881

with boats as with a swarm of water sub -pallid complexion, a most unassum
beetles ? What a city of idiots we must ing deportment, a mild adolescent in fact,
be not to have covered this glorious bay that any Hiram or Jonathan from be
with gondolas and wherries, as we have tween the ploughtails would of course ex
just learned to cover the ice in winter pect to handle with perfect case. Oh, he
with skaters ! is taking off his gold -Lowed spectacles !
I am satisfied that sach a set of black- Ah, he is divesting bimself of his cravat !
coated, stiff-jointed, soft -muscled, paste- Why, he is stripping off his coat ! Well,
complexioned youth as we can boast in here he is, sure enough, in a tight silk
our Atlantic cities never before sprang shirt, and with two things that look like
from loins of Anglo -Saxon lineage. Of batter puddings in the place of his fists.
the females that are the mates of these Now see that other fellow with another
males I do not here speak. I preached pair of batter puildings, the big one
my sermon from the lay -pulpit on this with the broad shoulders ; he will cer
matter a good while ago. Of course, tainly knock the little man's head off, it
if you heard it, you know my belief is he strikes him . Feinting, dolging, stop
that the total climatic influences here ping, bitting, countering,— little man's
-

are getting up a number of new pat- head not off yet. You might as well try
terns of humanity, some of which are to jump upon your own shadow as to hit
not an improvement on the old model. the little man's intellectual features. He
Clipper -built, sharp in the bows, long in needn't have taken off the gold -bowed
the spars, slender to look at, and fast to go, spectacles at all. Quick, cautious, shifty,
the ship, which is the great organ of our nimble, cool, he catches all the fierce
national lite of relation , is but a repro- lunges or gets out of their reach, till his
duction of the typical form which the turn comes, and then, whack goes one of
elements impress upon its builder. All the batter puddings against the big one's
this we cannot help ; but we can make ribs, and bang goes the other into the
the best of these influences, such as they big one's face, and, staggering, shuffling,
are. We have aa few gooi boatmen ,-no slipping, tripping, collapsing, sprawling,
good horsemen that I hear of;—nothing down goes the big one in a miscellancous
remarkable, I believe, in cricketing,— bundle . - If my young friend, whose ex
and as for any great athletic feat per- cellent article I have referred to, could
formed by a gentleman in these lati- only introduce the manly art of self-de
tudes, society would drop a man who fence among the clergy, I am satisfied
should run round the Common in five that we should have better sermons and
minutes. Some of our amateur fencers, an infinitely less quarrelsome church
single-stick players, and boxers, we have militant. A bout with the gloves would
no reason to be ashamed of. Boxing is let off the ill -nature, and cure the in
rough play, but not too rough for a digestion, which, united, have embroiled
hearty young fellow. Anything is better their subject in aa bitter controversy. We
than this white -bloodled degeneration to should then often hear that a point of dif
which we all tend . ference between an infallible and aa here
I dropped into a gentlemen's sparring tic, instead of being vehemently discus
exlibition only last evening. It did my sed in a series of newspaper articles, had
heart good to see that there were a few been settled by a friendly contest in sev
youngand youngish youths left who could eral rounds, at the close of which the
take care of their own heads in case of parties shook hands and appeared cor
emergency. It is a fine sight, that of a dially reconciled .
gentleman resolving himself into the prim- But boxing you and I are too old
itive constituents of his humanity . Ilere for, I am afraid . I was for a moment
is a delicate young man now, with an in- tempted , by the contagion of muscular
tellectual countenance , a slight figure, a electricity last evening, to try the gloves
VOL . I. 56
882 The Autocrat of the Breakfast- Table. [May,
with the Benicia Bor, who looked in as a For him in vain the enricus sensons roll
friend to the noble art; but remembering Who bears eternal summer in his soul.
that he had twice my weight and half If yet the minstrel's song, the poet's lay,
Spring with her birds, or children with their
my age, besides the advantage of his train play,
ing, I sat still and said nothing. Or maiden's smile, or heavenly dream of art
There is one other delicate point I wish Stir the few life -drops creeping round his
to speak of with reference to old age. I heart ,
refer to the use of dioptric media which Tum to the record where his vears are told , -
correct the diminished refracting power Count his gray hairs, —they cannot make hiin
old !
of the humors of the eye, -in other words,
spectacles. I don't use them . All I ask End of the Professor's paper .
is a large, fair type, a strong daylight or
gaslight, and one yard of focal distance, [ The above essay was not read at onc
and my eyes are as good as ever. But if time, but in several instalments, and ac
your eyes fail, I can tell you something companied by various comments from dit
encouraging. There is now living in ferent persons at the table. The com
New York State an old gentleman who, pany were in the main attentive, with the
perceiving his sight to fail, immediately exception of a little somnolence on the
took to exercising it on the finest print, part of the old gentleman opposite at
and in this way fairly bullied Nature out times, and a few sly, malicious questions
of her foolish habit of taking liberties at about the “ old boys ” on the part of that
five-and -forty, or thereabout. And now forward young fellow who has figured
this old gentleman performs the most ex- occasionally, not always to his advantage,
traordinary feats with his pen , showing in these reports.
that his eyes must be a pair ofmicroscopes. On Sunday mornings, in obedience to
I should be afraid to say to you how much a feeling I am not ashamed of, I hare
he writes in the compass of a balf-dime, - always tried to give a more appropriate
whether the Psalms or the Gospels, or character to our conversation. I have
the Psalms and the Gospels, I won't be never read them my sermon yet, and I
positive. don't know that I shall, as some of them
But now let me tell you this. If the might take my convictions as a per
time comes when you must lay down the sonal indignity to themselves. But har
fiddle and the bow, because your fingers ing read our company so much of the
are too stiff, and drop the ten -foot sculls, Professor's talk about age and other
because your arms are too weak , and subjects connected with physical life, I
after dallying awhile with eye-glasses, took the next Sunday morning to repeat
come at last to the undisguised reality of to them the following poem of his, which
spectacles,-if the time comes when that I have had by me some time. He calls
fire of life we spoke of has burned so low it , I suppose, for his professional friends
that where its Aames reverberated there -THE ANATOMIST'S HIYMN ; but I shall
is only the sombre stain of regret, and name it- ]
where its coals glowed, only the white
ashes that cover the embers ofmemory', -
don't let your heart grow cold, and you THE LIVING TEMPLE.
may carry cheerfulness and love with you
into the teens of your second century, Not in the world of light alone,
if you can last so long. As our friend, Where God has built his blazing throne,
the Poet, once said, in some of those old- Nor yet alone in earth below ,
With belted seas that come and go,
fashioned heroics of his which he keeps And endless isles of sunlit green,
for hisprivate reading, Is all thy Maker's glory seen :
Call bim not old, whose visionary brain Look in upon thy wondrous frame, -
Holds o'er the past its undivided reign. Eternal wisdomn still the same !
1858.] Literary Notices.
The smooth , soft air with pulse-like waves
Flows murmuring through its hidden caves,
Whose streams of brightening purple rush
Fired with a new and livelier blush ,
While all their burden of decay
The ebbing current steals away,
And red with Nature's flame they start
Froin the warm fountains of the heart.
Xo rest that throbbing slave may ask,
Forever quivering o'er his task,
While far and wide a crimson jet
J.e:upa forth to fill the woven net
Which in unnumbered crossing tides
The food of burning life divides,
Then kindling each decaving part
Creeps back to find the throbbing heart.
But warmed with that unchanging flame
Behold the outward moving frame,
Its living marbles jointed strong
Withi glistening band and silvery thong,
And linked to reason's guiding reins
By myriad rings in trembling chains,
Each graven with the threaded zone
Which claims it as the master's own .
LITERARY NOTICES.
Library of Old Authors. — Works of John
Varston . London : John Russell Smith .
1856-7.
MR. HALLIWELL, at the close of his
Preface to the Works of Marston , ( Vol . I.
p. xxii. , ) says, “ The dramas now collected
together are reprinted absolutely from the
carly editions, which were placed in the
hands of our printers, who thus had the
advantage of following them without the
intervention of a transcriber. They are
given as nearly as possible in their original
state , the only modernizations attempted
consisting in the alternations of the letters
i and j, and u and x', the retention of which "
(cloes Mr. Halliwell mean the letters or the
" alternations '' ? ) “ would have answered
no useful purpose, while it would have
unnecessarily perplexed the modern read-
er.”
This is not very clear ; but as Mr. Halli-
well is a member of several learned foreign
societics, and especially of the Royal Irish
883
See how yon beam of seeming white
Is braided out of seven - hued light ,
Yet in those lucid globes no ray
By any chance shall brenk astray .
Hark how the rolling surge of sound,
Arches and spirals circling round ,
Wakes the hushed spirit through thine ear
With music it is heaven to hear.
Then mark the cloven sphere that holds
All thought in its mysterious folds,
That feels sensation's faintest thrill
And flashes forth the sovereign will ;
Think on the stormy world that dwells
Locked in ita dim and clustering cells !
The lightniny gleams of power it sheils
Aloug its hollow glassy threads !
O Father ! grant thy love divine
To mike these mystic teinples thine !
When wasting age : und wcarving strife
Have supped the le :ining walls of life,
When darkness gathers over all,
And the last tottering pillars fall,
Take the poor dust thy mercy warms
And mould it into heavenly forms!
Academy, perhaps it would be unfair to
demand that he should write clear English .
As one of Mr. Smith's editors, it was to
be expected that he should not write it
idiomatically. Some malign constellation
( Taurus, perhaps, whose infaust aspect
may be supposed to preside over the mak
ers of bulls and blunders ) seems to have
been in conjunction with heavy Saturn
when the Library was projected. At the
top of the same page from which we have
made our quotation , Mr. Halliwell speaks
of “ conveying a favorable impression on
modern reailers.” It was surely to no
such phrase as this that Ensign Pistol al
luded when he said , “ Convey the wise it
call."
A literal reprint of an old author mav
be of value in two ways : the orthog
raphy may in certain cases indicate the
ancient pronunciation , or it may put us
on a scent which shall lead us to the bur
row of a word among the roots of language .
But in order to this, it surely is not needful
881 Literary Notices.
to undertake the reproduction of all the
original errors of the press ; and even were
it so, the proofs of carelessness in the edi .
torial department arc so glaring, that we
are left in doubt, after all, if we may con-
gratulate ourselves on possessing all these
sacred bluntlers of the Elizabethan type-
setters in their integrity and without any
debasement of modern alloy . If it be
gratifying to know that there lived stupid
inen before our contemporary Agamem-
nons in that kind, yet we demand absolute
accuracy in the report of the phenomena
in order to arrive at anything like safe sta-
tistics . For instance, we find ( Vol . I.
p. 89 ) “ Actes Secundus , Scesa Pri-
aus , ” and ( Vol. III . p. 174) " crit ambo,”
and we are interested to know that in a
London printing -house, two centuries and
a halt ago , there was a philanthropist who
wished to simplify the study of the Latin
language by reducing all the nouns to one
gender and all the verbs to one num-
ber. Hul his emancipated theories of
grammar prevailed , how much easier
would that part of boys which cherubs
want have found the school-room benches !
How would birchen bark, as an education-
al tonic, have fallen in repute ! How white
would have been the ( now black-and-blue )
memories of Dr. Busby and so many other
educational lictors, who, withi their bundles
of rods, heralded not along the consuls,
but all other Roman antiquities to us !
We dare not, however, indulge in the
grateful vision, since there are circum-
stances which lead us to inter that Mr. Hal
liwell himself (member though he be of so
many learned societies ) has those vague
notions of the speech of ancient Rome
which are apt to prevail in regions which
count not the betula in their Flora . On
page xv . of his Preface, he makes Drum
mond say that Ben Jonson “ was dilated ”
(delatod , –Gifford gives it in English , ac
cused ) “ to the king by Sir James Mur-
ray,” - Ben, whose corpulent person stood
in so little need of that malicious incre-
ment !
What is Mr. Halliwell's conception of
editorial duty ? As we read along, and
the once fair complexion of the margin
grew more and more pimply with pencil.
marks, like that of a bad proof-shect, we
began to think that he was acting on the
principle of every man his own wasber-
woman , -that he was making blunders of
[May,
sct purpose, ( as teachers of languages do
in their exercises , ) in order that we might
correct them for ourselves , and so fit us
in time to be editors also, and members of
various learned societies, even as Mr.
Halliwell himselt is. We fancied, that,
magnanimously waving aside the laurel
with which a grateful posterity crowned
General Wade, he wished us " to see these
roads before they were made,” and devel
ope our intellectual muscles in getting over
them . But no ; Mr. Halliwell lias append
ed notes to his edition, and among them
are some which correct misprints, and
therefore seem to imply that he considers
that service as belonging properly to the
cditorial function . We are obliged, then ,
to give up our theory that his intention
was to make every reader an editor, and
to suppose that he wished rather to show
how disgracefully a book might be edited
and yet receive the conimendation of pro
fessional critics who read with the ends of
their fingers. If this were his intention ,
Marston himself never published so biting
a satire .
Let us look at a few of the intricate
passages, to help us through which Mr.
Halliwell lends us the light of his editorial
lantern . In the Induction to “ What you
Will ” occurs the striking and unusual
phrase, " Now out up-pont," and Mr. Hal
liwell favors us with the following note :
“ Page 221 , line 10. Up-pont.—That is ,
upon't.” Again in the same play we
find
" Let twattling fame cheatd others rest,
I um no dish for rumors feast."
Of course , it should read, -
“ Let twattling (twaddling] Famecheate oth
ers ' rest,
I am no dish for Rumor's feast."
Mr. Halliwell comes to our assistance
thus : “Page 244, line 21 , 122 it should be,
I um , -a printer's error for I am . " Diquus
vindice nodis ! Five lines above , we have
“ whole ” for “ who'll, " and four lines be
>
low , “ helmcth ” for “ whelmeth " ; but
Mr. Halliwell vouchsafes no notc. In the
“ Fawn " we read , “ Wise neuds use few
words," and the editor says in a note , " a
misprint for heads ” ! Kind Mr. Halliwell !
Having given a few examples of our
“ Editor's ” corrections, we proceed to
1858.] Literary Notices.
quote a passage or two which, it is to be An edition of an English author ought to
presumed , he thought perfectly clear.
A man can skarce put on a tuckt-up cap,
A button'd frizado sute, skarce eate good
meate,
Anchores, cariare, but hee's satyred
And teru'd phantasticall. By the muddy
spawne
Of siymie ncughtes, when troth, phantas
ticknessc
That which the naturall sophysters tearme
Phantusia incomplexa — is a function
Even of the briglit iinmortal part of man .
It is the common passe, the sacred dore,
l'nto the prive chamber of the soule ;
That baru, vought passeth past the baser
court .
Of outward scence by it th' inamorate
Most lively thinkes he secs the absent beau-
ties
Of his lov'd mistres. " - Vol. I. p. 241.
In this case , also, the true readings are
clear enough :
" And termed fantastical by the muddy spawn
Of slimy ucwts ” ;
and
past the baser court
Of outward sense " ;
but , if anything was to be explained , why
are we here deserted by our fida compagna ?
Again , ( Vol . II. pp. 55–56 ,) we read ,
“ This Granuffo is a right wise good lord ,
a man of excellent discourse, and never
speake's his signes to me, and men of pro-
found reach instruct aboundantly ; hec
begges suites with signes, gives thanks
with signes,” ctc.
This Granuffo is qualified among the
6
“ Interlocutors ” as " a silent lord ,” and
what fun there is in the character (which ,
it must be confessed , is rather of a lenten
kind ) consists in his genius for saying
nothing. It is plain enough that the pass
age should read, “ a man of excellent dis-
course, and never speaks ; his signs to me
and men of profound reach instruct abun
dantly , " etc.
In both the passages we have quoted, it
is not difficult for the reader to set the text
right. But if not difficult for the reader,
it should certainly not have been so for the
editor, who should have done what Broome
was said to have done for Pope in his llo-
mer , — " gone before and swept the way.”
885
be intelligible to English readers, and, if
the editor do not make it so, he wrongs
the old poet, for two centuries lapt in lead ,
to whose works he undertakes to play the
gentleman -usher. A play written in our
own tongue should not be as tough to us
as Æschylus to a ten -ycars' graduate, nor
do we wish to be reduced to the level of a
chimpanzee, and forced to gnaw our way
through a thick shell of misprints and mis
pointings only to find (as is generally the
case with Marston) a rancid kernel of
meaning after all. But even Marston
sometimes deviates into poctry, as a man
who wrote in that age could hardly help
doing, and one of the few instances of it is
in a speech of Erichtho, in the first scene
of the fourth act of “ Sophonisba , ” ( Vol. I.
p. 197, ) which Mr. Halliwell presents to us
in this shape :
- “ hardby the reverent ( ! ) ruines
Of a once glorious templo rear'd to Jove
Whose very rubbish
.
yet beares
A deathlesse majesty, though now quite rac'd ,
( razed ,]
Hurl'd down by wrath and lust of impious
kings,
So that where holy Flamins ( Flamens) wont
to sing
Swect hymues to Heaven, there the daw and
crow,
The ill -voyc'd raven, and still chattering pye,
Send out ungratefull sounds and loathsome
filth ;
Where statues and Joves acts were vively
limbs,
Where tombs and beautious urnes of well dead
men
Slood in assured rest," etc.
The verse and a half in Italics are worthy
of Chapnian ; but why did not Mr. Halli
well, who explains up -pont and I um , change
“ Joves acts were vively limbs ” to “ Jove's
acts were lively limned,” which was un .
questionably what Marston wrote ?
In the “ Scourge of Villanie,” ( Vol. III.
p. 252,) there is a passage which has a
modern application in America, though
happily archaic in England, which Mr.
llalliwell suffers to stand thus :
“ Once Albion lived in such a cruel age
Than man did hold by' servile vilenage :
Poore brats were slaves of bondmen that
were borne,
886 Literary Notices.
And marted, sold : but that rude law is
torne
And disannuld, as too too inhumane."
This should read
“ Man man did hold in servile villanage ;
Poor brats were slaves ( of bondmen that
were born ) ” ;
and we hope that some American poet
will one day be able to write in the past
tense similar verses of the barbarity of
his forefathers.
We will give one more scrap of Mr.
Halliwell's text :
“ Yfaith , why then, caprichious mirth,
Skip, light moriscoes, in our frolick blond ,
Flaggd veines, sweete, pluinp with fresh
infused joyes! ”
which Marston , doubtless, wrote thus :
“ I'faith , why then , capricious Mirth ,
Skip light moriscoes in our frolic blood !
Flagged veins, swell plump with fresh -infused
joys! "
We have quoted only a few examples
from among the scores that we had mark-
ed, and against such a style of “ editing "
we invoke the shade of Marston himself.
In the Preface to the Second Edition of the
“ Fawn,” he says, “ Reader, know I have
perused this coppy, to make some satisfaction
for the first fully impression ; yet so urgent
hath been my business that some errors have styll
9)
passed, which thy discretion may amend."
Literally , to be sure, Mr. Halliwell has
availed himself of the permission of the
poet, in leaving all emendation to the read
er ; but certainly he has been false to the
spirit of it in his self-assumed office of cdi
tor. The notes to explain up -pont and I um
give us a kind of standard of the highest
intelligence which Mr. Halliwell dares to
take for granted in the ordinary reader.
Supposing this nousometer of his to be a
centigrade, in what hitherto unconceived
depths of cold obstruction can he find his
zero -point of entire idiocy ? The expan-
sive force of average wits cannot be reck-
oned upon , as we sce, to drive them up as
far as the temperate degree of misprints
in one syllable, and those, too, in their na-
tive tongue. A fortiori, then, Mr. Halliwell
is bound to lend us the aid of his great
learning wherever his author has intro-
duced foreign words and the old printers
have made pie of them . In a single case
he has accepted his responsibility as drago
[ May,
man, and the amount of his success is not
such as to give us any poignant regret that
he has everywhere else left us to our own
devices. On p. 119, Vol. II ., Francischi
na, a Dutchwoman , exclaims, “ 0 , mine
aderliver love." Here is Mr. Halliwell's
note . “ Aderliver. — This is the speaker's
error for alder -liever, the best beloved by
all.” Certainly not “ the speuker's error,”
for Marston was no such fool as intentional
ly to make a Dutchwoman blunder in her
own language. But is it an error for alder.
liever ? No, but for alderliefstur. Mr. Hal
liwell might have found it in many an old
Dutch song. For example, No. 96 of Hoff
mann von Fallersleben's “ Niederländische
Volkslieder ” begins thus :
" Mijn hert altijt heeft verlanghen
Naer u, die allerliefste mijn .”
But does the word mean “ best beloved by
all ” ? No such thing, of course; but “ best
beloved of all ,” - that is , by the speaker.
In “ Antonio and Mellida ” ( Vol. I. pp.
50–51) occur some Italian verses, and here
we hoped to fare better ; for Mr. Halliwell
(as we learn from the title-page of his Die
tionary ) is a member of the Reale Acade
mia di Firenze. ” This is the Accademia
della Crusca , founded for the conservation
of the Italian language in its purity , and
it is rather a fatal symptom that Mr. Hal
liwell should indulge in the heresy of spell.
ing Accademia with only one c. But let us
see what our Della Cruscan's notions of
conscrving are. Here is a specimen :
“ Bassiammi, coglier l' aura odorata
Che in sua neggia in quello dolce labra .
Dammi pimpero del tuo grauit' amore.”
It is clear enough that the first and third
verses ought to read,
“ Lasciami coglier,-Dammil' impero , "
though we confess that we could make
nothing of in sua neggia till an Italian friend
suggested ha sua seggia. But a Della Crus
can academician inight at least have cor
rected by his dictionary the spelling of
labra .
We think that we have sustained our
indictment of Mr. Halliwell's text with
ample proof. The title of the book should
have been, " The Works of John Marston,
containing all the Misprints of the Original
 1858.] Literary Notices.
Copies, together with a few added for the
First Time in this Edition , the whole care-
fully let alone by James Orchard Halliwell,
)
F. R. S .,. F . S. A.” It occurs to us that
Mr. Halliwell may be also a Fellow of
the Geological Society, and may have
caught from its members the enthusiasm
wbich leads him to attach so extraordi-
nary a value to every goose -track of the
Elizabethan formation. It is bad enough
to be , as Marston was, one of those mid-
dling poets whom neither gods nor men
nor columns ( llorace had never seen a
newspaper) tolerate ; but , rcally , even they
do not deserve the frightful retribution of
being reprinted by a Halliwell.
We have said that we could not feel
even the dubious satisfaction of knowing
that the blunders of the old copies had
, been faithfully followed in the reprinting.
. same play we read, “ My Lord Granuffo,
We see reason for doubting whether Mr.
Jlalliwell ever read the proof-sheets. In
his own notes we have found several mis.
takes. For instance, he refers to p. 159
when he means p. 153 ; he cites “ I, but
her life, ” instead of “ lip ” ; and he makes
Spenser speak of “ old Pithonus.” Mars
tou is not an author of enough importance
to make it desirable that we should be put
in possession of all the corrupted readings
of his text, were such a thing possible
eren with the most minute painstaking,
and Mr. Halliwell's edition loses its only
claim to value the moment a doubt is cast
upon the accuracy of its inaccuracies . It
is a matter of special import to us (whose
means of access to originals are exceed
ingly limited ) that the English editors of
our old authors should be faithful and
trustworthy , and we have singled out Mr.
Halliwell's Marston for particular animad-
version only because we think it on the
whole the worst edition we ever saw of
any author.
Having exposed the condition in which
our editor has left the text, we proceed to
test his competency in another respect, by
examining some of the emendations and
explanations of doubtful passages which he
proposes. These are very few ;but had they Halliwell can astonish us no longer, but
been even fewer, they had been too many.
Among the dramatis personce of the
Fawn," as we said before, occurs “ Gra-
nuffo , a silent lord .” He speaks only once
during the play, and that in the last scene.
In Act I., Scene 2, Gonzago says, speaking
to Granuifo,
887
“ Now, sure, thou art a man
Of a most learned scilence, and one whose
words
17
Ilave bin most pretious to me.'
This seems quite plain, but Mr. Ilalliwell
annotates thus :- " Scilence. - Query, sci
-
ence ? The common reading, silence, may,
lowever, be what is intended.” That the
spelling should have troubled Mr. Halli
well is remarkable ; for elsewhere we find
“ god-boy ” for “ good -bye , " " seace " for
,' “ bodics ” for “ boddice ," " pol
“ vcase ,”
lice ” for “ policy,” “ pitittying ” for “ pity
9 ) 66
ing," scence ” for “ sense, " * Miscnzius ”
for “Mezentius,” “ Ferazes 9 ”) for “ Ferra
resc,” — and plenty beside, equally odd.
-
That he should have doubted the meaning
is no less strange ; for on page 41 of the
you may likewise stay , for I know you'l
say nothing ,” - on pp. 65–56 , “ This Gra
nuffo is a right wise good lord , a man of
excellent discourse and never speaks,” — and on
p. 94, we find the following dialogue :
“ Gon . My Lord Granuffo, this Fawne is an
oxcellent fellow .
" Don. Silence.
" Gon. I warrant you for my lord here."
In the same play (p. 44 ) are these lines -
“ I apt for love ?
Let lazy idlenes, fild full of wine
Heated with meates, high fedde with lustfull
ease
Goe dote on culler ( color ). As for me, why,
death a sence,
I court the ladie ? "
This is Mr. Halliwell's note : - " Death a
sence . - Earth a sense , ' ed. 1633 . Mr.
Dilke suggests : For me, why, earth's
as sensible. The original is not necessa
rily corrupt. It may mean ,-why, you
might as well think Death was a sense,
one of the senses . See a like phrase at
p. 77.” What help we should get by think
ing Death one of the senses , it would de
mand another Edipus to unriddle. Mr.
we are surprised at Mr. Dilke, the very
competent editor of the “ Old English
Plays,” 1815. From him we might lave
hoped forbetter things. “ Death o'sense ! ”
is an exclamation . Throughout these vol
umes we find a for o ', - 18, “ a clock ” for
66
“ o'clock ," " a the side " for “ o ' the side . "
 [ May,
Literary Notices.
A similar exclamation is to be found in
888 These, we believe, are the only instances
in which Mr. Halliwell has ventured to
three other places iv the same play, where
give any opinion upon the text, except as
the sense is obvious . Mr. Halliwell refers
to a palpable misprint , here and there .
to one of them on p. 77 , - “ Death a man !
is she delivered ? ” The others are, - Two of these we have already cited . There
“ Death a justice ! are we in Norman- is one other, " p. 46, line 10. luconstant.
dy ?” ( p. 98 ) ; and “ Death a discretion ! · An error for inconstant." Wherever
if I should prove a foole now ," or, as giv- there is a real difficulty , he leaves us in
the lurch . For example, in What you
66
en by Mr. Halliwell, “ Death , a discre-
tion !” Now let us apply Mr. Halliwell's Will,” he prints without comment,
explanation. “ Death a man ! ” you might “ Ha ! he mount Chirall on the wings of
as well think Death was a man , that is, fame! ” ( Vol I. p. 239,)
one of the men !-or a discretion , that is,
which should be “ mount cheval," as it is
one of the discretions !-or a justice, that
given in Mr. Dilke's edition ( Old Eng .
is, one of the quorumn ! We trust Mr. lish Plays , Vol . II. p. 222 ). We cite this,
llalliwell may never have the editing of not as the worst, but the shortest , example
Bob Acres's imprecations. “ Oud's trig
gers ! ” he would say , “ that is, as oud as, hand
at So me. of Mr. Halliwell's notes are useful
or as strange as, triggers . ” and interesting ,-as that on “ keeliug the
Vol . III. , p. 77, “ the vote -killing man . pot, ” and some others ,-but a great part
drake . ” Mr. Halliwell's note is, “ rote
g are utterly useless . He thinks it necessary ,
killing.– Voice -killin , ed . 1613. It may for instance , to explain that “ to speak pure
9

d r
well be doubte whethe either be the cor
rect reading .” Ile then gives a familiar frole, is in sense equivalent to ‘ I will speus ak
like a pure fool,' ” - that “ belkt up ” mea
citation froin Browne's “ Vulgar Errors." ched up,”_"apr ecocks ,” “ apricots.”
1

“ Vote -killing " may be a mere misprint “llebelhas not _

es also upon “ meal-mouthed , ”
for “6 note-killing ,” but “ voice -killing ” is “ luxuriousnesse ,” termagant,” fico , " 06

certainly the better reading. Either, how . ' estro , ” “ a nest of goblets , " which indi>

ever, makes sense . Although Sir Thomas mte either that the “ general reader " is
Browne does not allude to the deadly prop a less intelligent person in Englaud than
erty of the mandrake's shrick , yet Mr. Hal
liwell, who has edited Shakspeare, might . in America , orrshtha t Mr. Halliwell's stand
ip
ard of schola is very low. We oor.
e ld embses d the
ereki!!,
hav
“ Wou remcur as doth the mandrake's selves, from our limited reading , can sup
ply him with a reference which will ex
( 2d lart Henry VI., Act III. Scene 2.) plain the allusion to the “ Scotch barna
gronin ," cle ” much better than his citations from
Sir John Maundeville and Giraldus Cam
and the notes thereon in the variorum
bre nsis ,-namely, note 8, on page 179 of a
edition . In Jacob Grimm's “ Deutsche Treatise on Worms , by Dr. Ramesey , court
Mythologie , ” ( Vol. II. p. 1154 ,) under the ician to Charles II.
wor d Alrsup
of the aun maion
ers, tit s cofou
y be ernia ng
ncnd oun
accma
fullthe n-t phys
Next month we shall examine Mr. Haz !
drake . “ When it is dug up, it groans litt's edition of Webster.
and shrieks so dreadfully that the digger
will surely dic . One must, therefore, be IV averley Novels. Household Edition . Bos
pede sun
for 's eear
oneris ons awit h ay
Frid ving
wa,xhaor tonst-woo
cotfir stop
l, ton : Ticknor & Fields . 16mo .
tak whihtehim
outeawit r onenthim
haian irely
, ma keckthe
bla n th
dogsigwi of This beautiful edition of Scott's Novels
the cross three times over the alraun , and will be completed in forty -cight volumes.
dig about it till the root holds only by thin Thirty are already published , and the re
fibres. Then tie these by a string to the maining eighteen will be issued at the rate
tail of the dog, show him a piece of bread , of two volumes a month . As this edition ,
and run away as fast as possible . The in the union of elegance of mechanical
dog.runs eagerly after the bread, pulls up execution with cheapness of price, is the
the root, and falls stricken dead by its best which has yet been published in the
United States, and reflects great credit on
groan of pain .”
1858.] Literary Notices.
the taste and enterprise of the publishers,
its merits should be universally known.
The paper is white, the type new and
clear, the illustrations excellent, the vol-
umes of convenient size, the notes placed
at the foot of the page, and the text en-
riched with the author's latest corrections.
It is called the “ Ilousehold Edition ” ; and
we certainly think it would be a greater
adornment, and should be considered a
more indispensable necessity, than nujner-
ous articles of expensive furniture, which ,
in too many households, take the place of
such books.
The success of this edition, which has
been as great as that of most new novels,
is but another illustration of the perma
nence of Scott's hold on the general im-
agination, resulting from the instinctive manity , Scott is still unapproached in this,
sagacity with which he perceived and met
its wants .The generation of reaclers for
which he wrote has mostly passed away ;
new fashions in fiction have risen , had
their day , and disappeared ; he has been
subjected to much acute and profound
criticism of a disparaging kind ; and at
present he has formidable rivals in a num-
ber of novelists, both eminent and popu-
lar ;-yet his tanc has quietly and steadily
widened with time, the " reading public ”
of our day is as much his public as the
reading public of his own, and there has
been no period since he commenced writ-
ing when there were not more persons
familiar with his novels than with those
of any other author. Some novelists are
more highly estimated by certain classes
of minds, but no other comprehends in his
popularity so many classes, and few bear
80 well that hardest of tests , re -perusal.
Many novels stimulate us more, and while
we are reading them we think they are
superior to Scott's ; but we miss, in the
general impression they leave on the
mind, that peculiar charm which, in
Scott, calls us back, after a few years, to
his pages, to revive the recollection of
scenes and characters which may be faci-
ing away from our memories. We doubt,
also, if any other novelist has, in a like
degree, the power of instantancously with
drawing so wide a variety of readers from
the perplexities and discomforts of actual
existence, and making them for the time
denizens of a new world. He has stimu-
lating elements enough , and he exhibits
piasterly art in the wisc economy with
889
which he uses them ; but he still stimu
lates only to invigorate ; and when he
enlivens jaded minds, it is rather by in
fusing fresh life than by applying fierce
excitements, and there is consequently no
reaction of weariness and disgust. He
appeases, satisfies, and enchants, rather
than stings and inflames. The interest
le rouses is not of that absorbing nature
which exhausts from its very intensity ,
but is of that genial kind which contin
uously holds the pleased attention while the
story is in progress, and remains in the
mind as a delightful memory after the
story is finished . It may also be said of
his characters, that, if some other novelists
have exhibited a finer and firmer power in
delineating higher or rarer types of hu
that he has succeeded in domesticating his
creations in the general heart and brain,
and thus obtained the endorsement of hu
man nature as evidence of their genuine.
ness . His characters are the friends and
acquaintances of everyboly , -quoted , re
ferred to, gossipped about, discussed , criti
cized , as though they were actual beings .
He , as an individual, is almost lost sight
of in the imaginary world his genius has
peopled ; and most of his readers have a
more vivid sense of the reality of Dominic
Sampson, Jeanie Deans, or any other of
his characterizations, than they have of
himself. And the reason is obvious. They
know Dominic Sampson through Scott ;
they know Scott only through Lockhart.
Still , it is certain that the nature of Scott,
that essential nature which no biography
can give, underlies, animates, disposes, and
permeates all the natures he has delinc
ated . It is this , which, in the last analysis,
is found to be the source of his universal
popularity, and which, without analysis,
is felt as a continual charm by all his
readers, whether they live in palaces or
cottages. His is a nature which is wel.
comed everywhere , because it is at home
everywhere. The mere power and va
riety of his imagination cannot account
for his influence ; for the same power and
variety might have been directed by a dis
contented and misanthropic spirit, or have
obcyed the impulses of selfish and sensual
passions, and thus conveyed a bitter or
impurc view of human nature and human
life. It is, then , the man in the inagina
tion, the cheerful, healthy, vigorous, sym
890 Literary Notices.
pathetic, good-natured, and broad -natured
Walter Scott himself, who, modestly hid .
den, as he seems to be, behind the char-
acters and scenes he represents, really
streams through them the peculiar quality
of life which makes their abiding charm .
Ile lias been accepted by humanity , be-
cause he is so heartily humane , -humane,
not merely as regards man in the abstract,
but as regards man in the concrete .
We have spoken of the number of his
readers, and of his capacity to interest all
classes of people ; but we suppose , that, in
our day, when everybody knows how to
read without always knowing what to
read , even Scott has failed to reach a mul-
titude of persons abundantly capable of
receiving pleasure from his writings, but
who, in their ignorance of him , are con-
tent to devour such frightful trash in the
shape of novels as they accidentally light
upon in a leisure hour. One advantage of
such an edition of his works as that which
has occasioned these remarks is, that it
tends to awaken attention anew to his
merits, to spread his fame among the gene
eration of readers now growing up, and
to place him in the public view fairly
abreast of unworthy but clamorous claim-
ants for public regard, as inferior to him
in the power to impart pleasure as they
are inferior to him in literary excellence.
That portion of the public who read bad
novels cannot be reached by criticism ; but
if they could only be reached by Scott,
they would quickly discover and resent
the swindle of which they have so long
been the victims.
A Dictionary of Medical Science, etc. By
Robley Dusglisox , M. D., LL. D.
Revised and very greatly enlarged .
It does not fall within our province to
enter into a minute examination of a pro-
fessional work like the one before us. As
a Medical Dictionary is a book, however,
which every general reader will find con-
venient at times, and as we have long
employed this particular dictionary with
great satisfaction, we do not hesitate to
devote a few sentences to its notice.
We remember when it was first pub
lished in 1833 , meagre, as compared with
its present affluence of information. A per & Brothers.
few years later a second edition was hon
orably noticed in the “ British and Foreign
[ Way,
Medical Review .” At that time it was
only half the size of Hooper's well-known
Medical Dictionary, but by its steady
growth in successive editions it has reached
that obesity which is tolerable in books
wo consult, but hardly in such as we read .
The labor expended in preparing, the work
must have been immense , and , unlike most
of our stereotyped medical literature, it
has increased by true interstitial growth ,
instead of by mere accretion , or of remain
ing essentially stationary - with the excep
tion of the title-page.
We can confidently recommend this
work as a most ample and convenient
book of reference upon Anatomy, l'hysiol
ogy, Climate, and other subjects likely to
be occasionally interesting to the general
reader, as well as upon all practical inatters
connected with the art of healing.
In the present state of education and in
telligence, he must be a dull person who
does not frequently find a question arising
on some point connected with this range of
studies. The student will find in this dic
tionary an enormous collection of syno
nymes in various languages, brief accounts
of almost everything medical ever heard
of, and full notices of many of the more
important subjects treated, such as Cli
mate, Dict, Falsification of Drugs, Feigned
Diseases , Muscles, Poisons, and many oth
ers .
Here and there we notice blemishes, as
must be expected in so huge a collection
of knowledge. Thus, Bronchiemmitis is
not Polypus bronchialis, but Croup.—The
accent of laryngeal and pharyngeal is in
correctly placed on the third syllable. In
this wilderness of words we look in vain
for the New York provincialism “ Sprue. "
The work has a right to some scores, per
haps hundreds, of such crrors, without
forfeiting its character . If the Elzevirs
could not print the “ Corpus Juris Civilis "
without a false heading to a chapter, we
may excuse a dictionary -maker and his
printer for an occasional slip . But it is 2a
most useful book , and scholars will find it
immensely convenient.
Scenes of Clerical Life. By George
Eliot . Originally published in “ Black
wood's Magazine.” New York : Har .
1858.
Fiction represents the character of the
1858.] Literary Notices.
age to which it belongs, not merely by
actual delineations of its times, like those
of “ Tom Jones ” and “ The Newcomes, "
but also in an indirect, though scarcely
less positive manner, by its exhibition of
the influence of the times upon its own
form and general direction , whatever the
scene or period it may have chosen for
itself. The story of “ Hypatia ” is laid in
Alexandria almost two thousand years
ago, but the book reflects the crudities of
modern English thought; and even Mr.
Thackeray , the greatest living master of
costume, succeeds in making his “ Es-
mond ” only a joint-procluction of the Ad-
disonian age and our own. Thus the
novels of the last few years exhibit very
clearly the spirit that characterizes the
period of regard for men and women
as men and women , without reference to
rank , beauty, fortune, or privilege. Novel-
ists recognize that Nature is a better ro-
mance -maker than the fancy, and the
public is learning that men and women
are better than heroes and heroines, not
only to live with , but also to read of. Now
and then, therefore, we get a novel, like
these “ Scenes of Clerical Life,” in which
the fictitious element is securely based
upon a broad groundwork of actual truth,
truth as well in detail as in general.
It is not often, however, even yet, that
we find a writer wholly unembarrassed by
and in revolt against the old theory of the
necessity of perfection in some one at least
of the characters of his story . “ Neither
Luther nor John Bunyan ,” says the author
of this book, " would have satisfied the
modern demand for an ideal bero, who be-
lieves nothing but what is truc, feels noth- joicing that the world was not filled with
ing but what is excellent, and does nothing such creatures as they themselves had set
but what is graceful.”
Sometimes, indeed , a daring romance-
writer ventures , during the earlier chapters
of his story, to represent a heroine without are presented in words than when they
beauty and without wealth , or a hero with
some mortal blemish . But after a time
liis resolution fails ;-each new chapter
gives a new charm to the ordinary face ;
the eyes grow “ liquid ” and “ lustrous, "
always having been “ large ” ; the nose,
"naturally delicate,” exhibits its “ fine - cut
lines " ; the mouth acquires an indescriba-
ble expression of loveliness ; and the read-
er's hoped -for Fright is transformed by
Folly or Miss Pickering into a common-
place, tiresome, novelesque Beauty. Even
891
Miss Bronté relented toward Jane Eyre ;
and weaker novelists are continually re
peating, but with the omission of the
moral, the story of the “ Ugly Duck.”
Unquestionably, there is the excuse to be
made for this great error, that it betrays
the sceking after an Ideal. Dangerous
word ! The ideal standard of excellence
is, to be sure, fortunately changing, and
the unreal ideal will soon be confined to
the second -rate writers for second - rate
readers. But all the great novelists of the
two last generations indulged themselves
and their readers in these unrealities. It
is vastly easier to invent a consistent
character than to represent an inconsist
ent one ;-a hero is easier to make ( so all
historians have found ) than a man.
Suppose, however, novelists could be
placed in a society made up of their favor.
ite characters,-forced into real, lifelike
intercourse with them ;-Richardson, for
instance, with his Harriet Byron or Clar
issa, attended by Sir Charles ; Miss Bur
ney with Lord Orville and Evelina ; Miss
Edgeworth with Caroline Percy, and that
marvellous hero, Count Altenburg ; Scott
with the automatons that he called Wa
verley and Flora Mclvor. Suppose they
were brought together to share the com
forts ( cold comforts they would be) of life,
to pass days together, to meet every morn
ing at breakfast ; with what a ludicrous
sense of relief, at the close of this purga
torial period, would not the unhappy nov.
elists have fled from these deserted heroes
and heroines, and the precious proprieties
of their romance , to the very driest and
mustiest of human bores,-gratefully re
before it as ideals !
To copy Nature faithfully and heartily
is certainly not less needful when stories
are told on canvas or in marble. In the
“ Sc from Clerical Life ” we have a
happy example of such copying. The
three stories embraced under this title are
written vigorously, with a just appreciation
of the romance of reality, and with honest
adherence to truth of representation in the
sombre as well as the brighter portions of
life. It demands not only a large intellect,
but a large heart, to gain such a candid
and inclusive appreciation of life and char
acter as they display. The greater part
892 Literary Notices.
of each story reads like a reminiscence of
real life, and the personages introduced
show little sign of being “ rubbed down "
or “ touched up and varnished ” for effect.
The narrative is easy and direct, full of
humor and pathos ; and the descriptions
of simple life in a country village are often
charming from their freshness, vivacity,
and sweetness . More than this, these
stories give proof of that wide range of
experience which does not so much de-
pend on an extended or varied acquaint-
ance with the world, as upon an intelli-
gent and comprehensive sympathy, which
makes cach new person with whom one is
connected a new illustration of the un-
solved problems of life and a new link in
the unending chain of human develop-
ment.
The book is one that deserves a more
elegant form than that which the Messrs.
Harper have given it in their reprint.
Twin Roses : A Narratire. By Axsa CORA
Ritchie , Author of " Autobiography of
an Actress," Mimic Life,” etc. Bos-
ton : Ticknor & Fields. 16mo.
Tus volume belongs to a series of nar-
ratives intended to illustrate Mrs. Ritchie's
experiences of theatrical life, and especially
EDITORIAL NOTE.
Is our review of Parton's Life of Burr,
published in the March number, the fol-
lowing passage occurs , as a quotation individual long immersed in the reading
from that work : - “ Hamilton probably
implanted a dislike for Burr in Washing-
ton's brcast. ”
l'pon this the author of the biography
has had the effrontery to bring against
us a charge of forgery . Ile aftirms that
neither the sentence above quoted nor
any resembling it can be found in his
book .
Mr. Parton , speaking of Washington's
refusal to nominate Burr to the French
mission, ( p. 197.) speaks of the l’resident's
dislike for liim ; anil, endeavoring to ac-
[ May.
to do justice to the many admirable people
who have adopted the stage as a profession.
Though it has many defects, in respect to
plot and characterization, it seems to us
the most charming in style and beautiful
in sentiment of Mrs. Ritchie's works. The
two sisters, the “ twin roses," are, we be
lieve, drawn from life ; but the author's
own imagination has enveloped them in
an atmosphere of romantic sweetness , and
their qualities are fondly exaggerated in
to something like unreality. They seem
to have been first idolized and then ideal
ized , but never realized . Still , the most
beautiful and tender passages of the whole
book are those in which they are loving
ly portrayed. The scenes in the theatre
are generally excellent. The perils, paids,
pleasures, failures, and triumphs of the ac
tor's life arc well described . The defect,
which especially mars tlic latter portiou
of the volume, is the absence of any ar
tistic reason for the numerous descrip
tions of scenery which are introduced .
The tourist and the novelist do not hap
pily combine. Still, the sentiment of the
book is so pure, fresh , and artless, its
moral tone so high , its style so rich and
melodious, and its purpose so charitable
and good, that the reader is kept in pleas
ed attention to the end, and lays it dowu
with regret.
count for it, says : “ Reflecting upon this
circumstance, the iilca will occur to the
of that period , that this invincible dislike of
Colonel Burr uas perhaps implanted , certainly
nourished, in the mind of General It'ashing.
ton by his useful friend and adherent, Alerai
der Ilamilton ."
We do not wonder that Mr. Parton
should have been annoyed hy so damag.
ing a criticism of his book , but we can
account for his forgetfulness only by sup
posing that he has been so long “ im
mersed in the reading of that periool ” as
to have arrived nearly at the drowning.
point of insensibility.