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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 2, Issue 12,
+October, 1858, by Various
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
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+
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 2, Issue 12, October, 1858
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: December 11, 2003  [eBook #10435]
+[Date last updated: July 2, 2005]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY, VOLUME 2,
+ISSUE 12, OCTOBER, 1858***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joshua Hutchinson, Keith M. Eckrich, and Project
+Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
+
+A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
+
+VOL. II.--OCTOBER, 1858.--NO. XII.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW WORLD AND THE NEW MAN.
+
+Half a dozen rivulets leap down the western declivity of the Rocky
+Mountains, and unite; four thousand miles away the mighty Missouri
+debouches into the Mexican Gulf as the result of that junction. Did the
+rivulets propose or plan the river? Not at all; but they knew, each,
+its private need to find a lower level; the universal law they obeyed
+accomplished the rest. So is it with the great human streams. Mighty
+beginnings do not lie in the minds of the beginners. History is a
+perpetual surprise, ever developing results of which men were the
+agents without being the expectants. Individual actors, with respect to
+the master claim of humanity, are, for the most part, not unlike that
+fleet hound which, enticed by a tempting prospect of meat, outran a
+locomotive engine all the way from Lowell to Boston, and won a handsome
+wager for his owner, while intent only on a dinner for himself.
+Humanity is served out of all proportion to the intention of service.
+Even the noble souls, never wanting in history, who follow not a bait,
+but belief, see only in imperfect survey the connections and relations
+of their deeds. Each is faithfully obeying his own inward vocation, a
+voice unheard by other soul than his own, and the inability to
+calculate consequences makes the preëminent grandeur of his position;
+or he is urged by the high inevitable impulse to publish or verify an
+idea: the Divine Destiny _works_ in their hearts, and _plans_ over
+their heads.
+
+Socrates felt a sacred impulse to test his neighbors, what they knew
+and were: this is such account of his life as he himself can give at
+its close. His contemporaries generally saw in him an imperturbable and
+troublesome questioner, fatally sure to come at the secret of every
+man's character and credence, whom no subterfuge could elude, no
+compliments flatter, no menaces appall,--suspected also of some
+emancipation from the popular superstitions: this is the account of him
+which _they_ are able to give. At twenty-three centuries' distance _we_
+see in him the source of a river of spiritual influence, that yet
+streams on, more than a Missouri, in the minds of men,--more than a
+Missouri, for it not only flows as an open current, but, percolating
+beneath the surface, and coming up in distinct and distant fountains,
+it becomes the hidden source of many a constant tide in the faiths and
+philosophies of nations.
+
+The veil covers the eyes of spectators and agents alike. Columbus
+returns, freighted with wondrous tidings, to the Spanish shore; the
+nation rises and claps its hands; the nation kneels to bless its gods
+at all its shrines, and chants its delight in many a choral Te Deum.
+What, then, do they think is gained? Why, El Dorado! Have they not
+gained a whole world of gold and silver mines to buy jewelled cloaks
+and feathers and frippery with? Have they not gained a cornucopia of
+savages, to support new brigades at home by their enslavement, and new
+bishoprics abroad by their salvation? Touching, truly, is the childish
+eagerness and _bonhommie_ with which those Spaniards in fancy assume,
+as it were, between thumb and finger, this continent, deemed to be
+nothing less than gold, and feed with it the leanness of hungry purses;
+and the effect is not a little enhanced by the extreme pains they are
+at to say a sufficient grace over the imagined meal. "Oh, wonderful,
+Pomponius!" shouts the large-minded Peter Martyr. "Upon the surface of
+that earth are found rude masses of gold, of a weight that one fears to
+mention!... Spain is spreading her wings," etc. He is of the minority
+there, who does not suppose this New World a Providential donation to
+aid him to dinners, dances, and dawdling, or at best to promote his
+"glory" and pride of social estimation. Even Columbus, more magnanimous
+than most of his contemporaries, is not so greatly more wise. The
+noblest use he can conceive for his discovery is to aid in the recovery
+of the Holy Sepulchre. With the precious metals that should fall to his
+share, says his biographer, he made haste to vow the raising of a force
+of five thousand horse and fifty thousand foot for the expulsion of the
+Saracens from Jerusalem. Nor is this the only instance in which even
+the noble among men have sought to clutch the grand opening futures,
+and wreathe the beauty of their promise about the consecrated graves of
+the past. "Servants of Sepulchres" is a title which even now, not
+individuals alone, but whole nations, may lawfully claim.
+
+The Old World, we say, seized upon this magnificent new force now
+thrown into history, and harnessed it unsuspiciously to its own car, as
+if it could have been designed for no other possible use. Happily,
+however, the design was different, and Providence having a peculiar
+faculty of protecting its own plans, the holding of the reins after
+such a steed proved anything but a sinecure. Spain, indeed, rode in a
+high chariot for a time, but at length, in that unlucky Armada drive,
+crashed against English oak on the ocean highways, and came off
+creaking and rickety,--grew thenceforth ever more unsteady,--finally,
+came utterly to the ground, with contusions, fractures, and much
+mishap,--and now the poor nation hobbles hypochondriacally upon
+crutches, all its brave charioteering sadly ended. England drove more
+considerately, but could not avoid fate; so in 1783 she, too, must let
+go the rein with some mental disturbance. For the great Destiny was not
+exclusively a European Providence,--had meditated the establishment of
+a fresh and independent human centre on the western side of the sea.
+The excellent citizens of London and Madrid found themselves incapable
+of crediting this until it was duly placarded in gunpowder print.--It
+is, indeed, an unaccountable foible men have, not to recognize a plain
+fact till it has been published in this blazing hieroglyphic. What were
+England and France doing at Sebastopol? Merely issuing a poster to this
+effect,--"Turkey is not yours,"--in a type that Russia could feel free
+to understand. Terribly costly editions these are, and in a type
+utterly hideous; but while nations refuse to see the fact in a more
+agreeable presentation, it may probably feel compelled to go into this
+ugly, but indubitable shape.--Well, somewhat less than a century since,
+England had committed herself to the proposition, that America was
+really a part or dependency of Europe, a lower-caste Europe, having
+about the same relation to the Cisatlantic continent that the farmer's
+barn has to his house. Mild refutations of this modest doctrine having
+been attempted without success, posters in the necessary red-letter
+type were issued at Concord, Bunker Hill, Yorktown, etc., which might
+be translated somewhat thus:--"America has its own independent root in
+the world's centre, its own independent destiny in the Providential
+thought." This important fact, having then and there exploded itself
+into legibility, and come to be known and read of all men, admits now
+of no dispute, and requires no confirmation. It is evidently so. The
+New World is not merely a newly-discovered hay-loft and dairy-stall for
+the Old, but is itself a proper household, of equal dignity with any.
+To draw the due inferences from this, to see what is implied in it, is
+all that we are here required to do.
+
+Be it, then, especially noted that the continent by itself can take no
+such rank. A spirituality must appear to crown and complete this great
+continental body; otherwise America is acephalous. Unless there be an
+American Man, the continent is inevitably but an appendage, a kitchen
+and laundry for the European parlor. American Man,--and the word Man is
+to receive a large emphasis. Observe, that it does not refer to mere
+population. The fact required will hardly be reported in the census.
+Indeed, there is quite too much talk about population, about
+prospective increase of numbers. We are to have thirty millions of
+inhabitants, they say, in 1860; soon forty, fifty, one hundred
+millions. Doubtless; and if that be all, one yawns over the statement.
+Could any prophet assure us of _one_ million of men who would stand for
+the broadest justice as Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans stood
+for Lacedaemon! But Hebrew David was thought to be punished for taking
+a census; nor is the story without significance. To reckon numbers
+alone a success _is_ a sin, and a blunder beside. Russia has sixty
+millions of people: who would not gladly swap her out of the world for
+glorious little Greece back again, and Plato and Aeschylus and
+Epaminondas still there? Who would exchange Concord or Cambridge in
+Massachusetts for any hundred thousand square miles of slave-breeding
+dead-level? Who Massachusetts in whole for as many South American (or
+Southern) republics as would cover Saturn and all his moons? Make sure
+of depth and breadth of soul as the national characteristic; then roll
+up the census columns; and roll out a hallelujah for each additional
+thousand.
+
+Thus had the great Genoese been destined merely to make a new highway
+on the ocean and new lines on the map,--to add the potato, maize, and
+tapioca to the known list of edibles, and tobacco to that of
+narcotics,--to explode Spain, give England a cotton-field, Ireland a
+hospital, and Africa a hell. This could by no means seem sufficient.
+The crew of the Pinta shouted, "Land! Land!"--peering through the dark
+at the new shores; the Spanish nation chanted, "Gold! Gold!"--gazing
+out through murky desires toward the wondrous West; but it is only with
+the cry of "Man! Man!" as at the sight of new cerebral shores and
+wealth of more than golden humanities, that the true America is
+discovered and announced. So whatever reason we have to assert for
+America a really independent existence and destiny, the same have we
+for predicting an opulence of heart and brain, to which Western
+prairies and Californian gold shall seem the natural appurtenance.
+
+And this noble man must be likewise a _new_ man,--not merely a migrated
+European. Western Europe pushed a little farther west does not meet our
+demand. Why should Europe go three thousand miles off to be Europe
+still? Besides, can we afford to England, France, Spain, a larger room
+in the world? Are we more than satisfied with their occupancy of that
+they already possess? The Englishman is undeniably a wholesome picture
+to the mental eye; but will not twenty million copies of him do, for
+the present? It would seem like a poverty in Nature, were she unable to
+vary, but must go helplessly on to reproduce that selfsame British
+likeness over all North America. But history fully warrants the
+expectation of a new form of man for the new continent. German and
+Scandinavian Teutons peopled England; but the Englishman is _sui
+generis_, not merely an exported Teuton. Egypt, says Bunsen, was
+peopled by a colony from Western Asia; but the genius and physiognomy
+of Egypt are peculiar and its own. Mr. Pococke will have it that Greece
+was a migrated India: it was, of course, a migration from some place
+that first planted the Hellenic stock in Europe; but if the man who
+carved the Zeus, and built the Parthenon, and wrote the "Prometheus"
+and the "Phaedrus," were a copy, where shall we find the original?
+Indeed, there has never been a great migration that did not result in a
+new form of national genius. And it is the thoroughness of the
+transformations thus induced which makes the chief difficulty in
+tracing the affinities of peoples.
+
+So it is that the world is enriched. Every new form of man establishes
+another current in those reciprocations of thought, in those electrical
+streams of sympathy,--of wholesome attraction and wholesome
+repulsion,--by which the intellectual life is kindled and quickened.
+Thought begins not until two men meet. Col. Hamilton Smith makes it
+quite clear that civilization has found its first centres there where
+two highways of national movement crossed, and dissimilar men looked
+each other in the face. They have met, it may be, with the rudest kind
+of greetings; but have obtained good thoughts from hard blows, and
+beaten ideas _out_ of each other's heads, if not _into_ them, according
+to the ancient pedagogic tradition. Higher culture brings higher terms
+of meeting; traffic succeeds war, conversation follows upon traffic;
+ever the necessity of various men to each other remains. There is no
+pure white light until seven colors blend; so to the mental
+illumination of humanity many hues of national genius must consent: and
+the value of life to all men is greater so soon as a new man has made
+his advent.
+
+All this is matter of daily experience with us. We do not, indeed, tire
+of old friends. A soul whose wealth we have once recognized must be
+ever rich to us. Gold turns not to copper by keeping; and perhaps old
+friends are rather like old wine, and can never be too old. Yet who
+does not mark in the calendar those days wherein he has met a _new_
+rich soul, that has a physiognomy, a grace and expression, peculiarly
+its own? Even decided repulsions have also a use. We whet our
+conscience on our neighbors' faults, as sober Spartans were made by the
+spectacle of drunken Helots;--though he who makes habitual _talk_ about
+his neighbors' faults whets his conscience across the edge. If there be
+sermons in stones, no less is there blessing in bores and in bullies.
+We found one day in the face of a black bear what could not be so well
+found in libraries. The creature regarded us attentively, and with
+affection rather than malice,--saw simply certain amounts of savory
+flesh, useful for the satisfaction of ursine hungers,--and saw nothing
+more. It was an incomparable lesson to teach that the world is an
+endless series of levels, and that each eye sees what its own altitude
+commands; the rest to it is non-extant. _That_ bear was in his natural
+covering of hair; his brothers we frequently meet in broadcloth.
+
+Now, as Nature keeps up this inexhaustible variety of individual genius
+which individual quickening requires, so on the larger scale is she
+ever working and compounding to produce varieties of national genius.
+Her aim is the same in both cases,--to enrich the whole by this
+electrical and enlivening relation between its parts. And thus an
+American man, no copy, but an original, formed in unprecedented moulds,
+with his own unborrowed grandeur, his own piquancy and charm, is to be
+looked for,--is, indeed, even now to be seen,--on this shore.
+
+Yes, the man we seek is already found, his features rapidly becoming
+distinct. He is the offspring of Northern Europe; he occupies Central
+North-America. Other fresh forms are doubtless to appear, but, though
+dimly shaping themselves, are as yet inchoate. But the Anglo-American
+is an existing fact, to be spoken of without prognostication, save as
+this is implied in the recognition of tendencies established and
+unfolding into results. The Anglo-American may be considered the latest
+new-comer into this planet. Let us, then, a little celebrate his
+advent. Let us make all lawful and gentle inquiry about the
+distinguished stranger.
+
+First, what is his pedigree? He need not be ashamed to tell; for he
+comes of a noble family, the Teutonic,--a family more opulent of human
+abilities, and those, for the most part, the deeper kind of abilities,
+than any other on the earth at present. He reckons among his
+progenitors and relatives such names as Shakspeare, Goethe, Milton, the
+two Bacons, Lessing, Richter, Schiller, Carlyle, Hegel, Luther, Behmen,
+Swedenborg, Gustavus Adolphus, William of Orange, Cromwell, Frederick
+II., Wellington, Newton, Leibnitz, Humboldt, Beethoven, Handel, Turner;
+and nations might be enriched out of the names that remain when the
+supreme ones in each class have been mentioned. Consider what
+incomparable range and variety, as well as depth, of genius are here
+affirmed. Greece and India possessed powers not equally represented
+here; but otherwise these might stand for the full abilities of
+mankind, each in its handsomest illustration.--It is remarkable, too,
+that our Anglo-American has no "poor relations." Not a scurvy nation
+comes of this stock. They are the Protestant nations, giving religion a
+moral expression, and reconciling it with freedom of thought. They are
+the constitutional nations, exacting terms of government that
+acknowledge private right. _Resource_ may also be emphasized as a
+characteristic of these nations. Hitherto they have honored every draft
+that has been made upon them. The Dutch first fished their country out
+from under the sea, and afterwards defended it in a war of eighty
+years' duration against the first military power on the globe: two
+feats, perhaps, equally without parallel.
+
+Being thus satisfied upon the point of pedigree, we may proceed to
+inquire about estate. To what inheritance of land has Nature invited
+our New Man? He comes to the country of highest organization, perhaps,
+upon either hemisphere. Brazil and China suggest, but probably do not
+sustain, a rivalry. What is implied in superior organization will
+appear from the items to be mentioned.
+
+  1. Elaboration. Central North-America is to an extraordinary degree
+worked out everywhere in careful detail, in moderate hill and valley,
+in undulating prairie and fertile plain,--not tossed into barren
+mountain-masses and table-lands, like that vast desert _plateau_ which
+stretches through Central Asia,--not struck out in blank, like the
+Russian _steppes_ and the South American _llanos_, as if Nature had
+wanted leisure to elaborate and finish. Indeed, these primary
+conditions of fertility and large habitability appertain to America, as
+a whole, to such degree, that, with less than half the extent of the
+Old World, it actually numbers more acres of fertile soil, and can, of
+course, sustain a larger population.
+
+  2. Unity. Between the Rocky Mountains and the Atlantic coast, and
+between the Gulf of Mexico and the northern wheat-limit, a larger space
+of fertile territory, embracing a wider variety of climate and
+production, is thrown into one mass, broken by no barrier, than can,
+perhaps, elsewhere be found.
+
+  3. Communication. No mass of land equal in other advantages is to the
+same extent thrown open and enriched by natural highways. The first
+item under this head is access to the ocean, which is the great
+road-space and highway of the world. Not mentioning the Pacific, as
+that coast is not here considered, we have the open sea upon two sides,
+while upon the northern boundary is an inclosed sea, the string of
+lakes, occupying a space larger than Great Britain and Ireland, and of
+a form to afford the greatest amount of coast-line and accommodation in
+proportion to space. But coast-_line_ is not enough; land and sea must
+be wedded as well as approximated. The Doge of Venice went annually
+forth to wed the Adriatic in behalf of its queen, and to cast into its
+bosom the symbolic ring; but Nature alone can really join the hands of
+ocean and main. By bays, estuaries, ports, spaces of sea lovingly
+inclosed by arms of sheltering shore, are conversation and union
+established between them.
+
+"The sea doth wash out all the ills of life," sings Euripides; and it
+is, indeed, with some penetration of wonder that one observes how deep
+and productive a relation to man the ocean has sustained. Some share in
+the greatest enterprises, in the finest results, it seldom fails to
+have. Not capriciously did the subtile Greek imagination derive the
+birth of Venus from the foam of the sea; for social love,--that vast
+reticulation of wedlock which society is--has commonly arisen not far
+from the ocean-shore. The Persian is the only superior civilization,
+now occurring to our recollection, which has no intimate relation
+either with river or sea; and that pushed inevitably toward the Tigris
+and Euphrates. Now to Europe must be conceded the supremacy in this
+single respect, that of representing the most intimate coast relation
+with the sea; North America follows next in order. Africa, washed, but
+not wedded, by the wave, represents the greatest seclusion,--and has
+gone into a sable suit in her sorrow. After the ocean, rivers, which
+are interior highways, claim regard. The United States have on this
+side the Rocky Mountains more than forty thousand miles of river-flow,
+that is, eighty thousand miles of river-bank,--counting no stream of
+less than one hundred miles in length. Europe, in a larger space, has
+but seventeen thousand miles. The American rivers are nearly all
+accessible from the ocean, and, owing to the gentle elevation of the
+continent, flow at easy declivities, and accordingly are largely
+navigable. The Mississippi descends at an average of only eight inches
+_per_ mile from source to mouth; the Missouri is said to be navigable
+to the very base of the Rocky Mountains; and these monarch streams
+represent the rivers of the continent. Thus here do these highways of
+God's own making run, as it were, past every man's door, and connect
+each man with the world he lives in.
+
+Rivers await their due celebration. We easily see that Nile, Ganges,
+Euphrates, Jordan, Tiber, Thames, are rivers of influence in human
+history, no less than water-currents on the earth's surface. They have
+borne barks and barges that the eye never saw. They have brought on
+their soft bosoms freight to the cities of the brain, as well as to
+Memphis, Rome, London. Some experience of their spiritual influence
+must have fallen to the lot of most men. The loved and lovely Merrimac
+no longer accedes to the writer's eye, but, as of old, glides securely
+seaward in his thought,--like a strain of masterly music long ago
+heard, and, when heard, identical in its suggestions with the total
+significance and vital progress of one's experience, that, intertwining
+itself as a twin thread with the shuttled fibre of life, it was woven
+into the same fabric, and became an inseparable part of the
+consciousness; so, hearken when one will, after the changes and
+accessions of many peopled years, and amid the thousand-footed trample
+of the mob of immediate impressions, still secure and predominant it is
+heard subtly sounding. Deep conversation with any river readily
+interprets to us that venerable mythus which connects Eden with the
+four rivers of the world; as if water must flow where man is chiefly
+blest.
+
+But the point here to be emphasized is, that rivers are the progressive
+and public element in its geographical expression. They throw the
+continent open; they are doors and windows, through which the nations
+look forth upon the world, and leave and enter their own household.
+They are the hospitality of the continent,--every river-mouth chanting
+out over the sea a perpetual, "Walk in," to all the world. Or again,
+they are geographical senses,--eyes, ears, and speech; for of these
+supreme mediators in the body, voice, vision, and hearing, it is the
+office, as of rivers, to open communication between the interior and
+exterior world; they are rivers of access to the outlying universe of
+men and things, which enters them, and approaches the soul through the
+freighted suggestions of sight and sound. Rivers, lastly, are the
+geographical symbol of public spirit, the flowing and connecting
+element, suggesting common interests and large systems of action.
+
+Thus in these characteristics of Various Productiveness, Unity, and
+Openness or Publicity, the continent indicates the description of man
+who may be its fit habitant. It suggests a nation vast in numbers and
+in power, existing not as an aggregate of fragments, but as an organic
+unit, the vital spirit of the whole prevailing in each of its parts;
+and consequently predicts a man suitable for wide and yet intimate
+societies. Let us not, however, thoughtlessly jump to accept these easy
+prognostics; first let it be fully understood what an enormous demand
+they imply. Americans speak complacently of their prospective one
+hundred millions of inhabitants; but do they bear well in mind that the
+requisition upon the individual is augmented by every multiplication
+and extension of the mass? It is not without significance, that great
+empires have uniformly been, or become, despotisms. Liberty lives only
+in the life of just principle; and as the weight of an elephant could
+not be sustained by the skeleton of a gazelle,--as, moreover, the bones
+must be made stouter as well as longer,--so must a vast body politic be
+permeated by a sturdier element of justice than is required for a
+diminutive state. It is, indeed, the chief recommendation of our
+federative form of government, that this, so far as may be, localizes
+legislation, and thus, by lessening the number of interests that demand
+a national consent, lessens equally the strain upon the conscience and
+judgment of the whole. Near at hand, the mere good feeling of
+neighbors, the companionable sentiment of cities and clans, proves a
+valuable succedaneum for that deeper principle which is good for all
+places and times. But this sentiment, like gravitation, diminishes in
+the ratio of the square of the distance, and at any considerable remove
+can no longer be reckoned upon as a counter-balance to the lawlessness
+of egotism. Athenians could be passably just, or at least not
+disastrously unjust, to Athenians; Spartans to Spartans; but Sparta
+must needs oppress the other cities of Laconia, while Athens was at
+best a fickle ally; and when Grecian liberty could be strong only in
+Grecian union, the common sentiment was bankrupted by too great a draft
+upon its resources. How far beyond the range of egotism of neighborhood
+a _free_ state may go is determined chiefly by limits in the souls of
+its constituents. At that point where equal justice begins to halt,
+fatigued by too long a journey, the inevitable boundaries of the state
+are fixed. Nor is it the mere sentiment of justice alone that suffices;
+but this must be sustained in its applications by a certain breadth of
+nature, a certain freedom and flexibility, akin to the dramatic
+faculty, which enables us to enter into the feelings and wants of
+others. Nothing, perhaps, in the world can be so unjust as a narrow and
+frigid conscience beyond its proper range. The bounds of the state may,
+indeed, not pause where the sustenance of its integral life fails. But
+then its extension will be purchased with its freedom,--the quality be
+debased as the quantity increases. Jelly-fish, and creatures of the
+lowest animation, may sustain magnitude of body, not only with a slight
+skeleton, but with none at all; and society of a cold-blooded or
+bloodless kind follows the analogy. But these low grades of social
+organization, having some show of congruity with the blank levels of
+Russia, can pretend to none with the continent we inhabit. Yet some
+species of arbitrament between man and man is sure to establish itself;
+if it live not, as a part of freedom, in the bosom of each, then does
+it inevitably build itself into a Fate over their heads; and despotism,
+war, or similar brutal and violent instrumentalities of adjustment,
+supply in their way the demand that love and reason failed to meet.
+
+Accordingly, in our American Man must be found, first, social largeness
+and susceptibility,--whatsoever, in the breadth of a flexile and
+sympathetic nature, may contribute to the keeping of the Golden Rule.
+But the broadest good-feeling will not alone suffice. The great pledge
+of peace, fellowship, and profitable co-working among such a population
+as we anticipate must be sought in the deeper unity of moral principle.
+For Right is one, and is every man's interest. Right is better than
+Charity; for Right meets, or even anticipates, normal wants, while
+Charity only mends failures. Nothing, therefore, that we could discover
+in the New Man would be such a security for his future, nothing so fit
+him for his place, as a tendency to simple and universal principles of
+action. In the absence of this, he will infallibly be compelled one day
+to enter Providence's court of chancery, and come forth bankrupt. But
+let him be, even by promise, a seer of those primary truths in which
+the interests of all are comprehended and made identical, and the
+virtue of his vision will become the assurance of his welfare.
+Doubtless, sad men will say that our own eyes are clouded with some
+glittering dust of optimism, when we declare that this Man for the
+Continent is the very one whose advent we celebrate. This might,
+indeed, seem a fatuitously dulcet song to sing just now, when a din of
+defection and recreancy is loud through all the land,--now, when we
+have immediately in view, and on the largest scale, an open patronage
+of infamous wrong-doing, so brazen-fronted and blush-proof that only
+the spectacle itself makes its credibility;--the prior possibility of
+it we should one and all hasten, for the honor of human nature, to
+deny. Yet in the midst of all this are visible the victorious
+influences that mould the imported Teuton to the spiritual form which
+his appointed tasks imply. These we now hasten to indicate.
+
+And first, every breath of American air helps to make him the American
+Man. The atmosphere of America was early noted as a wonder-worker. Ten
+years subsequent to the landing at Plymouth, the Rev. Francis
+Higginson, an acute observer, wrote to the mother country,--"A sup of
+New England air is better than a whole flagon of old English ale." Jean
+Paul says that the roots of humankind are the lungs, and that, being
+rooted in air,--we are properly children of the aether. Truly, children
+of the aether,--and so, children of fire. For the oxygen, upon which
+the lungs chiefly feed, is _the_ fiery principle in Nature,--all that
+we denominate fire and flame being but the manifestation of its action.
+We are severe upon fire-eaters, Southern and other; yet here are we,
+cool Northerns, quaffing this very principle and essence of fire in
+large lung-draughts every moment, each of us carrying a perpetual
+furnace in his bosom. Now it is doubtless true that we inhale more
+oxygen, or at least inhale it less drenched with damp, than the people
+of Europe, and are, therefore, more emphatically children of fire than
+they. Be this, or be some other, the true theory of the fact, the fact
+itself unquestionably is, that our climate produces the highest nervous
+intensity. As there are conditions of atmosphere in which the magnetic
+telegraph works well, and others in which it works ill, so some
+conditions stimulate, while others repress nervous action. The air of
+England seems favorable to richness and abundance of blood; there the
+life-vessels sit deep, and bring opulent cargoes to the flesh-shores;
+and the rotund figure, the ruddy solid cheek, and the leisurely
+complacent movement, all show how well supported and stored with vital
+resources the Englishman is. But to the American's lip the great
+foster-mother has proffered a more pungent and rousing draught,--not an
+old Saxon sleeping-cup for the night, but a waking-cup for the bright
+morning and busy day. It is forenoon with him. He is up and dressed,
+and at work by the job. Bring an Englishman here, and nothing short of
+Egyptian modes of preservation will keep him an Englishman long. Soon
+he cannot digest so much food, cannot dispose of so much stimulant; his
+step becomes quicker, his eye keener, his voice rises a note on the
+scale, and grows a trifle sharper. In fine, the effects observed in our
+autumn foliage may be traced in the people themselves, a heightening of
+colors; and while this accounts for much that is prurient and bizarre,
+it infolds also the best promise of America.
+
+The effect of this upon American physiology and physiognomy is already
+quite visible. Of course we must guard against hasty generalizations,
+since the interfusing of various elements in our Western States is
+producing new types of manhood. But the respective _physiques_ of Old
+and New England can easily be compared, and the difference strikes
+every eye. The American is lean, he has a paler complexion, a sharper
+face, a slighter build than his ancestors brought from the Old World.
+Mr. Emerson is reported as saying (though the precise words escape us)
+that the Englishman speaks from his chest, the American more from the
+mouth or throat,--that is, the one associates his voice more with the
+stomach and viscera, the other with the head; and, indeed, the pectoral
+quality of the prevailing tones catches the ear immediately upon
+setting foot on British soil. Every man instinctively apprehends where
+he is strongest, and will tend to associate voice and movement with the
+centre of his strengths. The American, since in him the nervous force
+predominates, instinctively lifts his voice into connection with the
+great household of that force, which is the brain; for an equally good
+reason the Englishman speaks from the visceral and sanguineous centres.
+The American (we are still dwelling chiefly on the New England type) is
+also apt to throw the head forward in walking,--thereby indicating,
+first, his chief reliance upon the forces which that part harbors, and,
+secondly, his impulse to progress; so that our national motto, "Go
+ahead," may have a twofold significance, as if it were in some sort the
+antipodes of going a-foot, and suggested not only the direction of
+movement, but also the active agent therein!
+
+Mr. Robert Knox, of England, somewhat known as an ethnological lecturer
+and author,--a thinker in a sort, though of the "slam-bang" school, of
+far more force than faculty, and of a singular avidity for ugly
+news,--dogmatically proclaims that all Americans are undergoing a
+physical degeneration, involving, as he thinks, an equal lapse of
+mental power, proceeding with swift fated steps, and sure ere long to
+land them in sheer impotence and imbecility; and he appeals to the
+common loss of adipose tissue and avoirdupois as proof. This author
+belongs to a class of well-meaning gentlemen, so unfortunately
+constituted that the distractions of their time induce in them an
+acetous fermentation (as milk sometimes sours during thunder); and from
+acid becoming acrid, they at length fall fairly in love with the
+Erinnyes, and henceforth dote upon destruction and ugliness as happier
+lovers do upon cosmical health and beauty. Concluding that the universe
+is a shabby affair, they like to make it out shabbier still,--and so,
+seldom brighten up till they have an ill thing to say. They are not
+persons toward whom it is easy to feel amiable. Dogmatism is ever
+unlovely, though it be in behalf of the sweetest hopes; but chronic
+doubt and disbelief erected into a dogmatism are intolerable. Yet Mr.
+Knox's misinterpretations of the facts are taking root in many minds
+that do not share his fierce hypochondria and hunger for bitter herbs.
+That the American has lost somewhat in animal resources is
+incontestable; but Mr. Knox's ever-implied premise, "The animal is the
+man," from which his Jeremiad derives its plaint, is but a provincial
+paper-currency, of very local estimation, and can never, like gold and
+silver, pass by weight in the world's marts of thought. The physical
+constitution of the New Man is comparatively delicate and fragile; but
+as a china vase is not necessarily less sound than a stone jug or iron
+kettle, so delicacy and fragility in man are no proof of disease. The
+ominous prognosis of this doctor, therefore, seems no occasion for
+despair, perhaps not even for alarm. But to perceive what different
+harping can be performed on this string, hear Carus:--"Leanness, as
+such," says the master, "is the symbol of a certain lightness,
+activity, rapidity, and mental power." Thus the adipose impoverishment,
+which to the yellow-eyed Englishman seems utter bankruptcy, is at once
+recognized by a superior man as denoting an augmentation, rather than
+diminution, of proper human wealth.
+
+But while the typical American organization is of this admitted
+delicacy and lightness, it is still capable, under high and powerful
+impulse of extraordinary feats of endurance. This has of late been
+admirably illustrated. Not long since, there returned to our shores a
+hero who--as Dante was believed by the people of Italy to have entered
+the Inferno of Fire--had actually descended into the opposite Inferno
+of Frost, and done unprecedented battle with the demons of that realm.
+Dr. Kane was slight, delicately framed, lean, with sharp, clear-cut
+features, of quivering mobility and fineness of texture, having the
+aspect rather of an artist than an explorer,--not at all the personage
+to whom most judges would assign great power of endurance. And as one
+follows him through those thrice Herculean toils,--sees him not only
+bearing cheerfully the great burden of his own cares and ills, but
+lifting up, as it were, from his companions, and assuming upon his own
+shoulders, the awful oppression of the polar night, as Atlas of old was
+fabled to support the heavens,--not even one's admiration at such force
+of soul can wholly exclude wonder at such fortitude of body. Whence, we
+ask, this power of endurance? We can trace it to no ordinary physical
+resource. It _comes_ from no ordinary physical resource. It is pure
+brain-power. It streams down upon the body, in rivers of invigoration,
+from the cerebral hemispheres. A conversational philosopher,
+discoursing to a circle of intelligent New England mechanics,
+said,--"It is commonly supposed that the earth supports man. Not so;
+man upholds the earth!" "How!" exclaimed a wide-eyed auditor; "upholds
+the earth? How do you make that out?" "How?" answered the philosopher,
+with superb innocence,--"don't you see that it sticks to his heels?"
+When the question is asked, How the slight frame of this Arctic hero
+could support such tests, the answer must be analogous,--It clung to
+his brain. The usual order of support is reversed; and here is that
+truer Mercury, in whom the winged head, possessing as function what its
+prototype only exhibited as ornament and symbol, really soars in its
+own might, bearing the pendent feet.
+
+Dr. Kane was one of the purest examples of the American organization;
+and as he issued victorious from that region where "the ground burns
+frore, and cold performs the effect of fire," the Man of the New World
+was represented, and in him came forth with proven strength. The same
+significance would not attach to all feats of endurance, even where
+equally representative. Here are Hercules and Orpheus in one,--the
+organization of a poet, and the physical stamina of a gladiator.
+
+Now this peculiar organization offers the physical inducement for two
+great tendencies,--one relating to the perception of truth, the other
+to the feeling of social claims,--while these tendencies are supported
+on the spiritual side by the great disciplines of our position; and the
+genius which these foreshow is precisely that which ought to be the
+genius of the New Man.
+
+This organization is that of the seer, the poet, the spiritualist, of
+all such as have an eye for the deeper essences and first principles of
+things. Concede intellectual power, or the spiritual element, then add
+this temperament, and there follows a certain subtile, penetrative,
+radical quality of thought, a characteristic percipience of principles.
+And principles are not only seen, but felt; they thrill the nerve as
+well as greet the eye; and the man consequently becomes highly amenable
+to his own belief. The primary question respecting men is this,--How
+far are they affected by the original axiomatic truths? Truths are like
+the winds. Near the earth's surface winds blow in variable directions,
+and the weathercock becomes the type of fickleness. So there is a class
+of little truths, dependent upon ever-variable relations, with which it
+is the function of cunning, shrewdness, tact, to deal, and numbers of
+men seldom or never lift their heads above this weathercock region. Yet
+the upper air, alike of the spiritual and the physical atmosphere, has
+its perpetual currents, unvarying as the revolution of the globe or the
+sailing of constellations; and these fail not to represent themselves
+by eternal tradewinds upon the surface of our planet and of our life.
+Now the grand inquiry about any man is,--Does he belong to the great
+current, or to the lesser ones? He appertains to the great in
+proportion to his access to principles. Or we may illustrate by another
+analogy a distinction, of importance so emphatic. The Arctic voyagers
+find two descriptions of ice. The field-ice spreads over vast spaces,
+and moves with immense power; but goes with the wind and the
+surface-flow. The bergs, on the contrary, sit deep, are bedded in the
+mighty under-currents; and when the field-ice was crashing down with
+tide and storm, Dr. Kane found these heroes holding their steady
+inevitable way in the teeth of both. Thus may one discover men who are
+very massive, very powerful, engrossing such enormous spaces that there
+hardly seems room in the world for anybody else; but they are Field-ice
+Men; they represent with gigantic force the impulse of the hour. But
+there is another class, making, perhaps, little show upon the surface,
+or making it by altitude alone, who represent the grand circulations of
+law, the orbital courses of truth. It is a question of depth, of
+penetration. And depth, be it observed, secures unity; diversity,
+contrariety, contention are of the surface. Numbers need not concern
+us, whether one hundred, or one hundred millions, provided all are
+imbedded in the central, commanding truths of the human consciousness.
+And if the Man of the New World be characteristically one who will
+attach himself to the eternal master-tides, that fact alone fits him
+for his place.
+
+Of course no sane man would intimate that organization alone can bring
+about such results. The Arabian horse will hardly manufacture a Saladin
+for his back. But let the Saladin be given, and this marvel of nerve
+and muscle will multiply his presence,--will, as it were, give two
+selves. So, if the Teutonic man who comes to our shores were innately
+empty or mean, this nervous intensity would only ripen his meanness, or
+make his inanity obstreperous. But in so far as he has real depth of
+nature, this radical organization will aid him, quickening by its heat
+what is deepest within him; and when he turns his face toward
+principles, this flying brain-steed will swiftly bring him to his goal.
+Nay, it is best that even meanness should ripen. The slaveholder of
+South Carolina must avouch a false principle to cover his false
+practice,--must affirm that slavery is a Divine institution. It is
+well. A Quaker, hearing a fellow blaspheme, said,--"That is right,
+friend; get such bad stuff out of thee!" A lie is dangerous, till it is
+told,--like scarlatina, before it is brought to the surface: when
+either breaks out, it is more than half conquered. The only falsehoods
+of appalling efficacy for evil are those which circulate subtly in the
+vital unconsciousness of powerful but obscure or undemonstrative
+natures,--deadly from the intimacy which also makes them secret and
+secure, and silently perverting to their own purposes the normal vigors
+of the system. A Mephistopheles is not dangerous; he is too
+clear-headed; he knows his own deserts: some muddiness is required to
+harbor self-deceptions, in order that badness may reach real working
+power. To all perversion iron limits are, indeed, set; but obscure
+falsehood works in the largest spaces and with the longest
+tether.--Thus the expressive intensity which appertains to this
+organization is serviceable every way, even in what might, at first
+blush, seem wholly evil effects.
+
+While thus the brain-hand of the American is formed for grasping
+principles, for apprehending the simple, subtile, universal truths
+which slip through coarser and more sluggish fingers, there is also an
+influence on the moral and intellectual faculties, coming in to accept
+and use these cerebral ones. We are more in conversation with the heart
+and pure spiritual fact of humanity than any other people of equal
+power and culture. We necessarily deal more with each other on a bond
+and basis of common persuasion, of open unenacted truth, than others.
+This matter is of moment enough to justify somewhat formal elucidation.
+
+Nations, like individual men, birds, and many quadrupeds and fishes,
+are house-builders. They wall and roof themselves in with symbols,
+creeds, codes, customs, etiquettes, and the like; they stigmatize by
+the terms heresy, high-treason, and names of milder import, any attempt
+to quit this edifice; and send such offenders into purgatory,
+penitentiary, coventry, as the case may be. Some nations omit to insert
+either door or window; they make penal even the desire to look out of
+doors, even the assertion that a sky exists other than the roof of
+their building, or that there is any other than a very unblessed
+out-of-doors beyond its walls. Such are countries where free speech is
+forbidden, where free thought is racked and thumb-screwed, and where
+not only a man's overt actions, but his very hopes, his faith, his
+prayers, are prescribed. Here man is put into his own institutions, as
+into a box; and a very bad box it proves. Now these blank walls not
+only encompass society as a mass, but also run between individuals,
+cutting off bosom from bosom, and rendering impossible that streaming
+of heart-fires, that mounting flame from meeting brands, out of whose
+wondrous baptism come the consecrate deeds of mankind. Go to China, and
+to any living soul you obtain no access, or next to none,--such
+disastrous roods of etiquette are interposed between. It is as if one
+very cordially shook hands with you by means of a pair of tongs or a
+ten-foot pole. Indeed, it is hardly a man that you meet; it is a piece
+of automatic ceremony. Nor is it in China alone that men may be found
+who can hardly be accredited with proper personality. As one dying may
+distribute his property in legacies to various institutions and
+organizations,--so much, for example, to the Tract Society, so much to
+the Colonization Society, and the like,--in the same manner do many
+make wills at the outset of life for the disposal of their own personal
+powers, and do nothing afterward but execute this testament,--executing
+themselves in another sense at the same time. They parcel out
+themselves, their judgment, their conscience, and whatsoever pertains
+to their spiritual being, among the customs, traditions, institutions,
+etiquettes of their time, and renounce all claim to a free existence.
+After such a piece of spiritual _felo-de-se_, the man is nothing but
+one wheel in a machine, or even but one cog upon a wheel. Thenceforth
+he merely hangs together;--simple cohesion is the utmost approximation
+to action which can be truly attributed to him.
+
+And as nothing is so ridiculous, so, few things are so mischievous, as
+the sincere insincerity, the estrangement from fact, of those who have
+thus parted with themselves. It is worse, if anything can be worse,
+than hypocrisy itself. The hypocrite sees two things,--the fact and the
+fiction, the gold and its counterfeit; he has virtue enough to know
+that he is a hypocrite. But the _post-mortem_ man, the walking legacy,
+does not recognize the existence of eternal Fact; it has never occurred
+to his mind that anything could be more serious than "spiritual
+taking-on" and make-belief. An innocent old gentleman, being at a play
+where the heroine is represented as destroyed in attempting to
+cross a broken bridge, rose, upon seeing her approach it, and in tones
+of the deepest concern offered his opinion that said bridge was unsafe!
+The _post-mortem_ man reverses this harmless blunder, and makes it
+anything but harmless by the change; as that one took theatricals to be
+earnest fact, so this conceives virtue itself to consist in posturing;
+he thinks gold a clever imitation of brass, and the azure of the sky to
+be a kind of celestial cosmetic; in fine, formalities are the realest
+things he knows. It is said, that, in the later days of Rome, the
+augurs and inspectors of entrails could not look each other in the face
+during their ceremonies, for fear of bursting into a laugh. But still
+worse off than these pitiful peddlers of fraud is he who feigns without
+knowing that he feigns,--feigns unfeignedly, and calls God to witness
+that he is faithful in the performance of his part. This is ape's
+earnest, and is, perhaps, the largest piece of waste that ever takes
+place upon this earth. _Ape's earnest_,--it is a pit that swallows
+whole nations, whole ages; and the extent to which it may be carried is
+wellnigh incredible, even with the fact before our eyes. A Chinese
+gentleman spends an hour in imploring a relative to dine with
+him,--utterly refusing, so urgent is his desire of company, to accept
+No for an answer,--and then flies into a rage because the cousin
+commits the _faux pas_ of yielding to his importunity, and agreeing to
+dine. Louis Napoleon perpetrates the king-joke of the century by
+solemnly presenting the Russian Czar with a copy of Thomas à Kempis's
+"Imitation of Christ,"--a book whose great inculcation is to renounce
+the world!
+
+Now no sooner do men lose hold upon fact than they inevitably begin to
+wither. They resemble a tree drawn with all its roots from the earth;
+the juices already imbibed may sustain it awhile, but with every
+passing day will sustain it less. If Louis Napoleon is so removed from
+conversation with reality as not to perceive the colossal satire
+implied in his gift, it will soon require more vigor than he possesses
+to keep astride the Gallic steed. That Chinese etiquette explains the
+condition of the Chinese nation. Indeed, it is easy to give a recipe
+for mummying men alive. Take one into keeping, prescribe everything,
+thoughts, actions, manners, so that he never shall find either
+permission or opportunity to ask his own intellect, What is true? nor
+his own heart, What is right? nor to consider within himself what is
+intrinsically good and worthy of a man; and if he does not rebel, you
+will make him as good a mummy as Egyptian catacombs can boast.
+
+The capital art of life is to renew and augment your power by its
+expenditure. It was intimated some eighteen centuries since that the
+highest are obtained only by loss of the same; and the transmutation of
+loss into gain is the essence and perfection of all spiritual
+economies. Now of this art of arts he is already master who steadily
+draws upon his own spiritual resources. The soul is an extraordinary
+well; the way to replenish is to draw from it. It is more miraculous
+than the widow's cruse;--that simply continued unexhausted,--never
+less, indeed, but also never more; while from this the more you take,
+the more remains in it. Were it, therefore, desired to arrange with
+forethought a scheme of life that should afford the highest
+invigoration, in such scheme there should be the minimum of
+prescription, and nothing be so sedulously avoided as the superseding
+of inward and active _principles_ by outward and passive _rules_;--that
+is, life would be made as much moral and spontaneous, as little
+political and mechanical, as possible.
+
+And this does not ill describe our own case. No civilized nation is so
+little imprisoned in precedents and traditions. Our national maxim is,
+"The world is too much governed." In the degree of this release we are,
+of course, thrown back upon underlying principles and universal
+persuasions,--since these of necessity become, in the absence of more
+artificial ties, the chief bond of such peace and coöperation as
+obtain. Leave two men to deal with each other, not merely as subjects
+or citizens, but as men, and they must recur to that which is at once
+native and common to both, to the universal elements in their
+consciousness, that is, to principles; and thus the most ordinary
+mutual dealing becomes, in some degree, a spiritual discipline. Harness
+these men in precedents, and whip them through the same action with
+penalties, and they will gain only such discipline as the ox obtains in
+the furrow and the horse between the thills. Statutes serve men, but
+lame them. They render morality mechanical. Men learn to say not, "It
+is right," but, "It is enacted." And the difference is immense. "Right"
+sends one to his own soul, and requires him to produce the living law
+out of that; "Enacted" sends him to the Revised Statutes, or the
+Reports, and there it ends. The latter gives a bit of information; the
+former a step in development. Laws are necessary; but laws which are
+not necessary are more and worse than unnecessary;--they pilfer power
+from the soul; they intercept the absolute uses of life; they
+incarcerate men, and make Caspar Hausers of them. Now in America not
+only is there already much emancipation from those outside regulations
+which supersede moral and private judgment, but the tendency toward a
+fresh life daily gains impetus. That repeal of the Missouri Compromise,
+however blamable, has several happy features, and prominent among these
+must be reckoned the illustration it affords of a growing disposition
+to say, "No putting To-day into Yesterday's coffin; let the Present
+_live_ and be its own lord."
+
+We need be at no loss to discover the effects of the combined
+influences here stated. The ordinary phrases of our country-people
+denote an alert judgment,--as, "I reckon," "I calculate," "I guess."
+The inventiveness which characterizes Americans, the multiplicity of
+patents, comes from the tendency to go behind the actual, to test
+possibilities, to bring everything to the standard of thought. Emerson
+dissolves England in the alembic of his brain, and makes a thought of
+that. Our politics are yearly becoming more and more questions of
+principle, questions of right and wrong. There is almost infinite
+promise and significance in this gradual victory of the moral over the
+political, of life over mechanism. Mr. Benton complains of the
+"speculative philanthropy" of New England, because it suggests
+questions upon which he could not meet his constituents, and interferes
+with his domestic arrangements. It is much as if one should pray God to
+abolish the sun because his own eyes are sore!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We now pass to the second great tendency which, as is here affirmed,
+organization and moral discipline are unitedly tending to establish on
+this shore. An inevitable consequence of the nervous intensity and
+susceptibility characteristic of Americans is an access of personal
+magnetism, or influence; we keenly feel each other, have social
+impressibility. The nervous is the public element in the body, the
+mediating and communicating power. It is the agent of every sense,--of
+sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell,--and of the power of speech. It is
+the vehicle of all fellow-feeling, of all social sympathy. It
+introduces man to man, and makes strangers acquainted. And a most
+unceremonious master of these ceremonies it is;--running
+indiscriminately across ranks; introducing beggar and baron; forcing
+the haughtiest master, spite of his theories, to feel that the slave
+_is_ a man and a fellow; compelling the prince to acknowledge the
+peasant,--not with a shake of the hand, perhaps, but, it may be, with
+knee-shakings and heart-shakings. A terrible leveller and democrat is
+this master element in the human frame; yet king and kaiser must
+entertain him in courts and on thrones. Now the high development of
+this in the American Man renders him communicative, gives him a quick
+interest in men; he cannot let them pass without giving and taking.
+Hence the much-blamed inquisitiveness,--"What is your name? Where do
+you live? Where are you going? What is your business? Do you eat baked
+beans on Sunday?" Mrs. Trollope is horrified; it is a bore; but one
+likes the man the better for it. He is interested in you;--that is the
+simple secret of all. King Carlyle calls us "eighteen millions of
+bores." To be sure; is that so bad? The primitive English element was
+pirate; let the primitive American _be_ bore. The fathers of the
+Britain that is took men by the throat; let the fathers of the America
+that is to be take them by the--button;--that is amelioration enough
+for one thousand years! In truth, this intense personal interest which
+characterizes the American, though often awkwardly manifested and
+troublesome, is an admirable feature in his constitution, and few
+traits should awaken our pride or expectation more. It is this keen
+fellow-feeling that fits him for the broadest and most beneficent
+public interest. This makes him a philanthropist. And his philanthropy
+is peculiar. It is not merely of the neighborhood sort, such as sends a
+Thanksgiving turkey to poor Robert and a hat that does not fit well to
+poor Peter. For here the predilection for principles and
+generalizations comes in, and leads him to translate his fellow-feeling
+into social axioms. Thus it occurs that the American is that man who is
+grappling most earnestly and intelligently with the problem of man's
+relation to man. In every village is some knot of active minds that
+brood over questions of this kind. The monarch newspaper of America is
+deeply tinged with the same hue; nor could one with a contrary
+complexion attain its position. This great current of human interest
+floats our politics; it feeds the springs of enthusiasm, coming forth
+in doctrines of non-resistance, of government by love, and the like;
+and our literature contains essays upon love and friendship which, in
+our judgment, are not equalled in the literature of the world.
+
+Nor is a moral discipline wanting to second this tendency. A terrible
+social anomaly has been forced upon us,--has had time to intertwine
+itself with trade, with creeds, with partisan prejudice and patriotic
+pride, and, having become next to unconquerable, now shows that it can
+keep no terms and must kill or be killed. And through this the question
+of man's duties to man, on the broadest scale, is incessantly kept in
+agitation. It is like a lurid handwriting across the sky,--"Learn what
+man should be and do to his fellow." And the companion sentence is
+this,--"Thy justice to the strangers shall be the best security to
+thine own household."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the co-working of these two grand tendencies we obtain at once the
+largest speculative breadth and the closest practical and personal
+interest. What sweeter promise could any one ask than that of this rare
+and admirable combination? Thought and action have been more than
+sufficiently separated. The philosopher has discoursed to a few, and in
+the dialect of the few, in Academic shades; sanctity has hidden itself
+away, lost in the joy of its secret contemplations; the great world has
+rolled by, unhearing, unheeding,--like London roaring with cataract
+thunder around St. Paul's, while within the choral service is performed
+to an audience of one. Thinking and doing have hardly recognized each
+other. Now we are not of those vague, enthusiastic persons who fancy
+that all truths are for all ears,--that the highest spiritual fact can
+be communicated, where there is no spiritual apprehension to lay hold
+upon it. _He that hath ears_, let him hear. Nor would we attempt to
+confuse the functions of sayer and doer. But let there be a sympathy
+and understanding between them, that, when achieved, will mark an epoch
+in the world's history. Nowhere, at least in modern times, have thought
+and action approached so nearly and intimately as in America; nowhere
+is speculative intellect so colored with the hues of practical interest
+without limiting its own flight; nowhere are labor and executive power
+so receptive of pure intellectual suggestion. The union of what is
+deepest and most recondite in thought with clear-sighted sagacity has
+been well hit by Lowell in his description of the typical American
+scholar,--
+
+  "Sits in a mystery calm and intense,
+  And looks round about him with sharp common-sense."
+
+That is, the New Man has two things that seldom make each other's
+acquaintance,--Sight and Insight. Accordingly, our subtilest thinker,
+whom the scholarly Mr. Vaughan classes with the mystics and accuses of
+going beyond the legitimate range even of mystics, has written such an
+estimate of the most practical nation in the world as has never been
+written of that or any other before. The American knows what is about
+him, has tact, sagacity, conversance with surfaces and circumstances,
+is the shrewdest guesser in the world; and seeing him on this side
+alone, one might say,--This is the man of to-day, a quick worker, good
+to sail ships, bore mountains, buy and sell, but belonging to the
+surface, knowing only that. The medal turns, and lo! here is this 'cute
+Yankee a thinker, a mystic, fellow of the antique, Oriental in his
+subtilest contemplations, a rider of the sunbeam, dwelling upon Truth's
+sweetness with such pure devotion and delight that vigorous Mr.
+Kingsley must shriek, "Windrush!" "Intellectual Epicurism!" and disturb
+himself in a somewhat diverting manner. Pollok declaimed against the
+attempt to lay hold of the earth with one hand and heaven with the
+other. But that is the peculiar feat for which the American is
+born,--to bring together seeing and doing, principle and practice,
+eternity and to-day. The American is given, they say, to extremes.
+True, but to _both_ extremes; he belongs to the two antipodes. To the
+one he appertains by intellectual emancipation and penetrative power;
+to the other by his pungent element of sympathy with persons. Speaking
+of the older Northern States, and of the people as a whole, we affirm
+that their inhabitants are more speculative _and_ more practical, the
+scholars know more of immediate common interests and speak more the
+dialect of the people, while the mechanics know more of speculative
+truth and understand better the necessary vocabulary of thought, than
+any other people.
+
+Lyell says, that the New World is really the Old World,--that there,
+preëminently, the antique geological formations are found, and nearer
+the surface than elsewhere. Thus the physical peculiarity of our
+continent is, that here an elaborate and highly finished surface is
+immediately superimposed upon the oldest rock, rock wrought in fire and
+kneaded with earthquake knuckles. We discover in this a symbol of the
+American Man. He likewise brings into near association the most ancient
+and the most modern. By insight he dwells in the old thoughts, the
+eternal truths, the meditations that rapt away the early seers into
+trance and dream; but he brings these into sharp contact with life,
+associates them with the newest work, the toil and interests of this
+year and day.
+
+We shall find space to mention but one peril which besets the New Man.
+It is danger of physical exhaustion. Dr. Kane, the hero of two Arctic
+nights, came forth to the day only to die. That which makes the
+preëminence of our organization makes also its peril. Denmark is said
+to be impoverished by the disproportion of the learned to the
+industrial class; production is insufficient, and too much of a good
+thing cripples the country. The nervous system is a learned class in
+the body; it contributes dignity and superior uses, but makes no corn
+grow in the physiological fields. A brain of great animation and power
+is a perilous freight for the stanchest body; in a weak and shattered
+body it is like gold in a spent swimmer's pocket,--the richer it would
+make him on dry land, the less chance it gives him of arriving there.
+That this danger is not imaginary too many are able to testify.--Few
+scenes in Rabelais are more exquisitely ludicrous than that in which he
+pictures the monk Panurge in a storm at sea. The oily ecclesiastic is
+terrified as only a combination of hypocrite and coward can be; and, in
+the extremity of his craven distress, he fancies that any situation on
+shore, no matter how despicable, would be paradise. So at length he
+whines, "Oh that I were on dry land, and somebody kicking me!" In a
+similar manner--similar, save that farce deepens to tragedy--many a man
+in America of opulent mental outfit, but with only a poor wreck of a
+body to bear the precious cargo, must often have been tempted to cry,
+"Oh that I had a sound digestion, and were some part of a dunce!" In
+truth, we are a nation of health-hunters, betraying the want by the
+search. It were to be wished that an accurate computation could be made
+how much money has been paid in the United States, within a score of
+years, for patent medicines. It would buy up a kingdom of respectable
+dimensions. So eager is this health-hunger, that it bites at bare
+hooks. The "advertising man" of Arnold's Globules offers his services
+as nostrum-puffer-general, and appeals to past success as proof of his
+abilities in this line. But Arnold's Globules will sell no whit the
+worse. Is the amiable Mr. Knox right, after all? Doubtless, we answer,
+the American organization is more easily disordered than the
+English,--just as a railway-train running at forty miles an hour is
+more liable to accident than one proceeding at twenty. Besides,
+Americans have not learned to live as these new circumstances require.
+The New Man is a clipper-ship, that can run out of sight of land while
+one of the old bluff-bowed, round-ribbed craft is creeping out of port;
+but, from the very nature of his superiorities, he is apt to be
+shorter-lived, and more likely to spring a leak in the strain of a
+storm. He demands nicer navigation. It will not do for him to beat over
+sand-bars. Yet dinner-pilotage in this country is reckless and
+unscientific to a degree. The land is full of wrecks hopelessly snagged
+upon indigestible diet. As yet, it is difficult to obtain a hearing for
+precaution. Men answer you out of their past experience,--much like a
+headstrong personage who was about to attempt crossing a river in a
+boat sure to sink. "You will drown, if you go in that thing," said a
+bystander. "Never was drowned yet," was the prompt retort; and pushing
+off, he soon lost the opportunity to repeat that boast! But this
+resistance is constantly becoming less. Meantime, numbers of foreseeing
+men are waking up, or are already awakened, to the importance of
+recreation and physical culture,--members of the clerical profession,
+to the credit of the craft be it said, taking the lead. Messrs.
+Beecher, Bellows, and Hale plead the cause of amusements; the author of
+"Saints and their Bodies" celebrates the uses and urges the need of
+athletic sports; gymnasia are becoming matters of course in the cities
+and larger towns; "The New York Tribune" attends to the matter of
+cookery; and it is safe to predict that the habits of the people will
+undergo in time the necessary changes. That health is possible to
+Americans ought not to be questioned. Of despair we will not listen to
+a word. In crossing the ocean, in the backwoods-experience which
+everywhere precedes cultivation, in the excitement which has followed
+the obliteration of social monopolies and the throwing open of the
+wealth of a continent to free competition, the old traditional
+precautions have been lost, the old household wisdoms, the old
+economies of health; and these we have now to reproduce for ourselves.
+It will be done. And when this is done, though ancient English brawn
+will not reappear, there will be health, and its great blessing of
+cheerful spirits. The special means by which this shall be accomplished
+we leave to the care of the gentlemen abovenamed, and their
+compeers--merely putting in one word for _gentle_ exercise, and two
+words for the cherishing of mental health, the expulsion of morbid
+excitements, assume what guise they may. We should take extreme care
+not to admit decay at the summit. A healthy soul is a better
+prophylactic than belladonna. Refusing to despond respecting American
+health, we cheerfully trust that the genius of the New Man will find
+all required physical support, and due length of time for demonstrating
+its quality.
+
+And now we may notice a doubt which some readers will cherish. Is not
+all this, they may say, over-sanguine and enthusiastic? Is it not a
+self-complacent dream? Are the tendencies adverted to so productive? Is
+any such genius really forming as is here claimed? Is it not, on the
+contrary, now fully understood that the Americans are a commonplace
+people, meagre-minded money-makers, destitute of originality? What have
+they done to demonstrate genius yet?--These skepticisms are somewhat
+prevalent nowadays, and are a natural enough reaction from
+Fourth-of-July flatulencies. Let them have their day. The fact will
+vindicate itself. Meanwhile we may remark, that the appeal to attained
+performance, in justification of the view taken in this paper of
+American abilities and prospects, would obviously place us at undue
+disadvantage. We speak here, and are plainly entitled to speak, rather
+of tendencies than of attainments, of powers forming themselves in man,
+and not of results produced without him. Nevertheless, results there
+are,--admirable, satisfactory results.
+
+As first of these may be mentioned American Reform. In depth, in
+breadth, in vigor, in practical quality, this may challenge comparison
+with anything of a similar kind elsewhere. This is the direct outburst
+of a new life, arising and wrestling with the old forms, habitudes,
+institutions, with whatsoever is imported and traditional, on the one
+hand, and with the crude or barbarous improvisations of native energy,
+on the other. It is a force springing out of the summit of the brain,
+the angel of its noblest sentiment, going forth with no less an aim
+than to construct a whole new social status from ideas. And the token
+of its superiority is this, that it builds its new outward life only
+from the most ancient incorruptible material, out of the eternal
+granite of Moral Law. Sweeping social _schemes_ prevail in France. But
+American Reform is not a scheme; it is the service of an _idea_. It is
+made conservative by that which also makes it radical, by working in
+the interest of the moral sentiment.
+
+The Literature of the New World is also worthy of the New Man. We are
+quite aware that a large portion of this literature is trash. So was a
+large part in Shakspeare's, in Cervantes's, in Plato's age and place.
+But we admit even that the comparison does not hold,--that an especial
+accusation may be brought against the issues of the press in this
+country. Wise men should have anticipated this, and, instead of
+reasoning from the size of our lakes, prairies, and mountains, and
+demanding epics and philosophies of us before we are fairly out of our
+primitive woods, the critics should have hastened to say,--A colony
+must have time to strike root, and to draw up therefrom a new life,
+before it can arrive at valuable and genuine literary expression. The
+Life must come before the Thought. Nothing could be more absurd than
+the expectation that American literature should spring away into the
+air from the top of European performance. Our first literature was
+colonial,--that is, imitative, written for the approbation of European
+critics,--of course, having somewhat the empty correctness of good
+school-boy composition. Next followed what we may call fire-weed
+literature,--the first rank, raw product of new lands. Under these two
+heads a vast number of books must of course be reckoned. But beyond
+these American literature has already passed, and now can point to
+books that spring out of the pure genius of the New Man. And having
+only these in mind, we hesitate not to say that there is now sounding
+upon these shores a deeper, subtler, and more universal note than is
+heard in any other land touched by the Atlantic Sea. We have now
+writings in several departments of literature, and in both prose and
+verse, which are characterized by a breadth and largeness of
+suggestion, by a spirituality and a prophetic adherence to the moral
+sentiment, which justify all that has here been affirmed or reasoned.
+And our deepest thought finds a popular reception which proves it not
+foreign or exceptional. Wilkinson's "Human Body," the largest piece of
+speculative construction which England has produced in two centuries,
+has not yet, after some eight years, we believe, exhausted its first
+edition. Emerson's Poems, still less adapted, one would say, than the
+work just mentioned, to the taste of populaces, had reached its fourth
+edition in about the same period. Learned works have, of course, a
+superior reception in the mother-country; works of pure thought in the
+daughter. Said to us, during the past season, the subtilest thinker of
+Great Britain,--"I must send to America whatever I wish to put in
+print, unless I pay for its publication from my own pocket."
+
+And beyond this, there is a hush in the nation's heart, an expectancy,
+a waiting and longing for some unspoken word, which sometimes seems
+awful in the bounty of its promise. I know men educated to speak, with
+the burden of a speaker's vocation on their hearts, but now these many
+years remaining heroically silent; the fountains of a fresh
+consciousness sweet within them, but not yet flowing into speech, and
+they too earnest, too expectant, too sure of the future to say aught
+beneath the strain. "Why do you not speak?" was inquired of one.
+"Because I can keep silent," he said, "and the word I am to utter will
+command me." No man assumes that attitude until he is already a party
+to the deepest truth, is the silent side of a seer; and in a nation
+where any numbers are passing this more than Pythagorean lustrum, a
+speech is surely coming that will no more need to apologize for itself
+than the speech of the forest or the ocean-shore. The region of the
+trade-winds is skirted with calm. Sydney Smith said of Macaulay, that
+his talk, to render it charming, "needed only a few brilliant flashes
+of silence." We are talkative, but the flashes of silence are not
+wanting, and there is prophecy in them as well as charm. Said one, of a
+speaker,--"He was so rarely eloquent, that what he did not say was even
+better than what he did." And here, not only are some wholly silent,
+but in our best writings the impressive not-saying lends its higher
+suggestion than that expressly put forth. What spaces between Emerson's
+sentences! Each seems to float like a solitary summer-cloud in a whole
+sky of silence.
+
+Yes, the fact is already indubitable, a rich life, sure in due time of
+its rich expression, is forming here. As out of the deeps of Destiny,
+the Man for the Continent, head-craftsman, hand-craftsman, already puts
+his foot to this shore. All hail, new-comer! Welcome to great tasks,
+great toils, to mighty disciplines, to victories that shall not be too
+cheaply purchased, to defeats that shall be better than victories! We
+give thee joy of new powers, new work, unprecedented futures! We give
+the world joy of a new and mighty artist to plan, a new strong artisan
+to quarry and to build in the great architectures of humanity!
+
+
+
+THE POET KEATS.
+
+  His was the soul, once pent in English clay,
+  Whereby ungrateful England seemed to hold
+  The sweet Narcissus, parted from his stream,--
+  Endymion, not unmindful of his dream,
+  Like a weak bird the flock has left behind.
+
+  Untimely notes the poet sung alone,
+  Checked by the chilling frosts of words unkind;
+  And his grieved soul, some thousand years astray,
+  Paled like the moon in most unwelcome day.
+
+  His speech betrayed him ere his heart grew cold;
+  With morning freshness to the world he told
+  Of man's first love, and fearless creed of youth,
+  When Beauty he believed the type of Truth.
+
+  In the vexed glories of unquiet Troy,
+  So might to Helen's jealous ear discourse
+  The flute, first tuned on Ida's haunted hill,
+  Against OEnone's coming, to betray
+  In what sweet solitude her shepherd lay.
+
+  Yet, Poet-Priest! the world shall ever thrill
+  To thy loved theme, its charm undying still!
+  Hearts in their youth are Greek as Homer's song,
+  And all Olympus half contents the boy,
+  Who from the quarries of abounding joy
+  Brings his white idols without thought of wrong.
+
+  With reverent hand he sets each votive stone,
+  And last, the altar "To the God Unknown."
+
+  As in our dreams the face that we love best
+  Blooms as at first, while we ourselves grow old,--
+  As the returning Spring in sunlight throws
+  Through prison-bars, on graves, its ardent gold,--
+  And as the splendors of a Syrian rose
+  Lie unreproved upon the saddest breast,--
+  So mythic story fits a changing world:
+  Still the bark drifts with sails forever furled.
+  An unschooled Fancy deemed the work her own,
+  While mystic meaning through each fable shone.
+
+
+
+HER GRACE, THE DRUMMER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+
+Foray, a mass of crags embellished by some greenness, looked up to
+heaven a hundred miles from shore. It was a fortified position, and a
+place of banishment. In the course of a long war, waged on sea and land
+between two great nations, this, "least of all," became a point of some
+importance to the authority investing it; the fort was well supplied
+with the machinery of death, and the prison filled with prisoners. But
+peace had now been of long continuance; and though a nation's banner
+floated from the tower of the fort, and was seen afar by
+mariners,--though the cannon occupied their ancient places, ordered for
+instant use,--though all within the fort was managed and conducted day
+by day with careful regard to orders,--the operations indicated, in the
+spirit of their conduct, no fear of warlike surprises. No man gave or
+obeyed an order as if his life depended on his expedition. Neither was
+the prison the very place it had been; for, once, every cell had its
+occupant,--an exile, or a prisoner of war.
+
+The officials of the island led an easy life, therefore. Active was the
+brain that resisted the influences of so much leisure as most of these
+people had. But, under provocation even, Nature must be true. So true
+is she, indeed, that every violation of her dignities illustrates the
+meaning of that sovereign utterance, VENGEANCE IS MINE. She will not
+bring a thorn-tree from an acorn. Pray, day and night, and see if she
+will let you gather figs of thistles. Prayer has its conditions, and
+faith is not the sum of them.
+
+But Nature's buoyant spirits must needs conquer the weight of
+influences whose business is to depress. And they, seeking, find their
+centre among things celestial, in spite of all opposing. Much leisure,
+light labor, was not the worst thing that could befall some of the men
+whose lot was cast on Foray.
+
+Adolphus Montier was a member of the military band. He was drummer to
+the regiment by the grace of his capacity. Besides, he played on the
+French horn, to the admiration of his wife, and others; and he could
+fill, at need, the place of any missing member of the company, leaving
+nothing to be desired in the performance.
+
+Adolphus came to Foray in the first vessel that brought soldiers
+hither. He saw the first stone laid in the building of the fort. Here
+he had lived since. He was growing gray in the years of peace. He had
+some scars from the years of strife, he was a brave fellow, and
+idleness, a devil's bland disguise, found no favor with him.
+
+His daughter Elizabeth was the first child born on the island. Bronzed
+warriors smiled on her fair infancy; sometimes they called her, with
+affectionate intonation, "The Daughter of the Regiment." She deserved
+the notice they bestowed,--as infancy in general deserves all it
+receives,--but Elizabeth for other reasons than that she had come
+whence none could tell, and was going whither no man could
+predict,--for other reason than that she was the first discovered
+native of the island. She was a beautiful child; and I state this fact
+not specially in deference to the universal expectation that a
+character brought forward for anybody's notice should be personally
+capable of fascinating such. Indeed, it seems inevitable that we find
+our heroines and heroes in life beautiful. Miss Nightingale must needs
+remain our type of pure charity in person, as in character. Elisha Kent
+Kane among his icebergs must stand manifestly efficient for his
+"princely purpose," his eye and brow magnificent with beauty. Rachel,
+to every woman's memory, must live the unparalleled Camille.
+
+Little Elizabeth--I smile to write her name upon the page with
+these--it were a shame to cheat of beauty by any bungle of description.
+Is not a fair spirit predestined conqueror of flesh and blood? Have we
+not read of the noble lady whose loveliness a painter's eye was the
+very first to discover? Where the likeness? The soul saw it, not the
+eye; and he understood, who, seeing it, exclaimed, "Our friend--in
+heaven!" While Adolphus Montier cleaned and polished his French horn,
+an occupation which was his unfailing resource, if he could find
+nothing else to do, or when he practised his music, business in which
+he especially delighted when off duty, it was his pleasure to have wife
+and child with him.
+
+Imagination was an active power in the Drummer's sphere. He, away off
+in Foray, used to talk about the forms and colors of sounds, as if he
+knew about them; and he had not learned the talk in any school. He
+would have done no injury to transcendentalism. And he was a happy man,
+in that the persons before whom he indulged in this manner of speech
+rather encouraged it. Never had his Pauline's pride and fondness failed
+Adolphus the Drummer. Life in Foray was little less than banishment,
+though it had its wages and--renown; but Pauline made out of this
+single man her country, friends, and home. Never woman endeavored with
+truer single-heartedness to understand her spouse. In her life's aim
+was no failure. Let him expatiate on sound to the bounds of fancy's
+extravagance, she could confidently follow, and would have volunteered
+her testimony to a doubter, as if all were a question of tangible fact,
+to be definitely proved. So in every matter. For all the comfort she
+was to the man she loved, for her confidence in him who deserved it,
+for her patient endurance of whatsoever ill she met or bore, for
+choosing to walk in so peaceful a manner, with a heart so light and a
+face so fair, praise to the Drummer's wife!
+
+Elizabeth, the companion of her parents in all their happy rambling and
+unambitious home-life, was their joy and pride. If she frolicked in the
+grass while her father played his airs, she lost not a strain of the
+music. She hearkened also to his deep discourse, and gave good heed,
+when he illustrated the meaning of the tunes he loved to play. And
+these were rarely the stirring strains with which the Governor's policy
+kept the band chiefly busy when the soldiers gathered on summer nights
+in knots of listeners, and the ladies of the fort, the Governor's wife,
+and the wives of the officers, came out to enjoy the evening, or when a
+vessel touched the rocky shore.
+
+Elizabeth's vision was clearer than even love could make her
+mother's,--clearer than music made her father's; since a distinct
+conception of images seems not to be inevitable among the image-makers.
+The prophets are not always to be called upon for an interpretation. No
+white angel ever floats more clearly before the eyes of those who look
+on the sculptor's finished work than before the eyes of Elizabeth
+appeared the shapes and hues of sounds which swept in gay or solemn
+procession through the windings of her father's horn, floating over the
+blue water, dissolving as the mist. No bright-winged bird, fair flower,
+or gorgeous sunset or sea-wave, was more distinct to the child's eyes
+than the hues of the same notes, stately as palm or pine,--red as
+crimson, white as wool, rich and full as violet, softly compelling as
+amethyst.
+
+Pauline Montier was by nature as active and diligent as Adolphus. She
+was a seamstress before the days of Foray and the Drummer, and still
+continued to ply her needle, though no longer urged by necessity. She
+sewed for the officers' wives, she knit stockings and mufflers for the
+soldiers. The income thus derived independently of Montier's public
+service was very considerable.
+
+Born of such parents, Elizabeth would have had some difficulty in
+persuading herself that her business was to idle through this life.
+
+Her early experiences were not as peaceful as those which followed her
+tenth year. The noise of battle, the cries of defeat, the shouts of
+victory, the sight of agonized faces, the vision of death, the
+struggles of pain and anguish, the sorrow of bereavement,--she had seen
+all with those young eyes. She had heard the whispered command in
+hushed moments of mortal danger, and the shout of triumph--in the
+tumult of victory,--had watched blazing ships, seen prisoners carried
+to their cells, attended the burial of brave men slain in battle, had
+marched with soldiers keeping time to funeral strains. Her courage and
+her pity had been stirred in years when she could do no more than see
+and hear. Once standing, through the heat of a bloody engagement, by
+the side of a lad, a corporal's son, who was stationed to receive and
+communicate an order, a random shot struck the boy down at her side.
+She saw that he was dead,--waited for the order, transmitted it, and
+then carried away the lifeless body of her fellow-sentinel, staggering
+under the weighty burden, never resting till she had laid him in the
+shelter of his father's quarters. After the engagement, this story was
+told through the victorious ranks by the witnesses of her valor, and a
+medal was awarded the child by acclamation. She always wore it, and was
+as proud of it as a veteran of his ribbons and stars.
+
+But now, in times of peace, the fair flower of her womanhood was
+forming. Like a white hyacinth she grew,--a lady to look upon, with
+whom, for loveliness, not a lady of the fort could be compared. Not one
+of them in courage or unselfishness exceeded her.
+
+The family lived in a little house adjoining the barracks. It was a
+home that could boast of nothing beyond comfort and cleanliness;--the
+word comfort I use as the poor man understands it. Neither Adolphus nor
+Pauline had any worldly goods to bring with them when they came to
+Foray. They lived at first, and for a long time, in the barracks; the
+little house they now occupied had once been used for the storage of
+provisions; but when the war ended, Adolphus succeeded in obtaining
+permission to turn it into a dwelling-house. Here the child was
+sheltered, and taught the use of a needle; and here she learned to read
+and write.
+
+In the great vegetable garden which covered the space between the
+prison and the fort was a corner that reflected no great credit on the
+authorities. The persons who might reasonably have been expected to
+take that neglected bit of ground under their loving care did no such
+thing. The beds were weeded by Sandy, the gardener, and now and then a
+blossom rewarded that attention; but the flower-patch waited for
+Elizabeth.
+
+The gardener knew very well how she prized the pretty flowers;--they
+appealed to his own rude nature in a very tender way. He loved to see
+the young girl flying down the narrow paths as swiftly as a bird, if
+she but spied a bloom from afar. There was a tree whose branches hung
+over the wall, every one of them growing, with dreadful perversity,
+away from the cold, hard prison-ground which held the roots so fast.
+Time was never long enough when she sat in the shade of those branches,
+watching Sandy at his work.
+
+By-and-by it happened that the flower-garden was given over to the
+charge of the girl. It was natural that she, who had never seen other
+flower-beds than these, should, aided by the home-recollections of her
+mother, imagine far prettier,--that she should dare suggest to Sandy,
+until his patience and his skill were exhausted,--that the final good
+result should have come about in a moment when no one looked for
+it,--he giving up his task with vexation, she accepting it with
+humility, and both working together thereafter, the most helpful of
+friends.
+
+It required not many seasons for Elizabeth to prove her skill and
+diligence in the culture of this garden-ground,--not many for the
+transformation of square, awkward beds into a mass of bloom. How did
+those flowers delight the generous heart! With what particular splendor
+shone the house of Montier through all the summer season! The ladies
+now began to think about bouquets, and knew where they could find them.
+From this same blessed nook the Governor's table was daily supplied
+with its most beautiful ornament. Men tenderly disposed smiled on the
+young face that from under the broad-brimmed garden-hat smiled back on
+them. Some deemed her fairer than the flowers she cared for.
+
+One day in the spring of the year that brought her thirteenth birthday,
+Elizabeth ran down through the morning mist, and plucked the first
+spring flower. She stayed but to gather the beauty whose budding she
+had long watched; no one must rob her mother of this gift.
+
+She carried off the prize before the gaze of one who had also hailed it
+in the bleak, drear dawn. This was not the gardener;--and there was
+neither man, woman, nor child in sight, during the swift run;--no
+freeman; but a prisoner in an upper room of the prison. Through its
+grated window, the only one on that side of the building, he had that
+morning for the first time looked upon the island which had held him
+long a prisoner.
+
+Since daybreak he had stood before the window. The evening before, the
+stone had been rolled away from the door of his sepulchre,--not by an
+angel, neither by force of the resistless Life-spirit within, shall it
+be said? Who knows that it was _not_ by an angel? who shall aver it was
+_not_ by the resistless Life? At least, he was here,--brought from the
+cell he had occupied these five years,--brought from the arms of Death.
+His window below had looked on a dead stone-wall; this break in the
+massive masonry gave heaven and earth to him.
+
+The first ray of daylight saw him dragging his feeble body to the
+window. He did not remove from that post till the rain was over,--nor
+then, except for a moment. As the clouds rose from the sea, he watched
+them. How strange was the aspect of all things! Thus, while he had
+lived and not beheld, these trees had waved, these waters rolled, these
+clouds gathered,--grass had grown, and flowers unfolded; for he saw the
+scarlet bloom before Elizabeth plucked it. And all this while he had
+lived like a dead man, unaware! Not so; but now he remembered not the
+days, when, conscious of all this life, he had deathly despair in his
+heart, and stones alone for friends.
+
+Imprisonment and solitude had told upon the man. He was still young,
+and one whom Nature and culture had fitted for no obscure station in
+the world. He could, by every evidence he gave, perform no mere
+commonplaces of virtue or of vice. The world's ways would not assign
+his limitation. He was capable of devising and of executing great
+things,--and had proved the power; and to this his presence testified,
+even in dilapidation and listlessness.
+
+His repose was the repose of helplessness,--not that of grace or
+nature. The opening of this prospect with the daylight had not the
+effect to increase his tranquillity. His dejection in the past months
+had been that of a strong man who yields to necessity; his present mood
+was not inspired with hope. The waves that leaped in the morning's
+gloomy light were not so aimless as his life seemed to him. He had
+heard a bird sing in the branches of a tree whose roots were in the
+prison-yard,--now he could see her nest; he had heard the dismal
+pattering of the rain,--and now beheld it, and the clouds from which it
+fell; he saw the glimpses of the blue beyond, where the clouds were
+breaking; he saw the fort, the cannon mounted on the walls, the flag
+that fluttered from the tower, the barracks, the parade-ground, and the
+surrounding sea, whose boundaries he knew not; he saw the trees, he saw
+the garden-ground. Slowly his eyes scanned all,--and the soul that was
+lodged in the emaciated figure grew faint and sick with seeing. But no
+tears, no sighs, no indications of grief or despair or desperate
+submission. He had little to learn of suffering;--that he knew. How
+could he greet the day, hail the light, bless Nature for her beauty,
+thank God for his life? Oh, the weariness with which he leaned his head
+against those window-bars, faint and almost dying under the weight of
+thoughts that rushed upon him, fierce enough to slay, if he showed any
+resistance! But he manifested none. The day of struggle was over with
+him. He believed that they had brought him to this room to die. If any
+thought could give him joy, surely it was this. He was right. Yesterday
+the Governor of the island, hearing the condition of the prisoner, this
+one remaining man of all whose sentence had been endured within these
+walls, had ordered a change of scene for him. His sentence was
+imprisonment for life. Did they fear his release by the hands of one
+who hears the sighing of the prisoner, and gives to every bondman the
+Year of Jubilee? Were they jealous and suspicious of the approach of
+Death?
+
+Though he had been so long a prisoner, he showed in his person
+self-respect and dignity of nature. His hair and beard were grown long;
+many a gray thread shone in his chestnut locks; his mouth was a firm
+feature; his eyes quiet, but not the mildest; his forehead very ample;
+he was lofty in stature;--outside the prison, a freeman, his presence
+would have been commanding. But he needed the free air for his lungs,
+and the light to surround him,--the light to set him in relief, the
+sense of life to compel him to stand out in his own powerful
+individuality, distinct from every other living man.
+
+By-and-by, while he stood at the window, looking forth upon the strange
+scenes before him, this new heaven and new earth, the landscape became
+alive. The first human creature he had seen outside his cell since he
+became an inmate of this prison appeared before his eyes,--the young
+girl skipping through the garden till she came to the flower-bed and
+plucked the scarlet blossom. If she had been a spirit or an angel, he
+could hardly have beheld her with greater surprise.
+
+She was singing when she came. He thought he recognized that
+voice,--that it was the same he had often heard from the cell below.
+Many a time the horrible stillness of that cell had been broken by the
+sound of a child's voice, which, like a spirit, swept unhindered
+through the walls,--an essence of life, and a power.
+
+It was but a moment that she paused before the flower; she plucked it,
+and was gone. But his eyes could follow her. She did not really, with
+her disappearing, vanish. And yet this vision had not to him the
+significance of the bow seen in the cloud, whose interpreter, and whose
+interpretation, was the Almighty Love.
+
+All day he stood before that window. The keeper hailed the symptom. The
+Governor was satisfied with the report. Towards sunset the rain was
+over, and with the sun came forth abundant indications of the island
+life. The gardener walked among the garden-beds and measured his
+morrow's work, calculating time and means within his reach,--and
+vouchsafing some attention to the flower-garden, as was evident when he
+paused before it and made his thoughtful survey. The prisoner saw him
+smile when he took hold of the broken stalk which had been
+flower-crowned. And Sandy saw the prisoner.
+
+The next day Elizabeth came out with the gardener, and they began their
+day's work together. They seemed to be in the best spirits. The smell
+of the fresh-turned earth, the sight of the fresh shoots of tender
+green springing from bulb and root and branch, acted upon them like an
+inspiration. The warm sun also held them to their task. Sandy was
+generous in bestowing aid and counsel,--and also in the matter of his
+land,--trenching farther on the ground allotted to the vegetables than
+he had ever done before.
+
+"The land must pay for it," said he. "We'll make a foot give us a
+yard's worth. Cram a bushel into a peck, though 'The Doctor' said you
+never could do that! I know how to coax."
+
+"Yes, and you know how to order, if you have not forgotten, Sandy. You
+frightened me once for taking an inch over my share."
+
+"That was a long while back," answered honest Sandy,--"before I knew
+what the little girl could do. I've seen young folk work at gardening
+afore, but you do beat 'em all. How could I tell you would, though? You
+don't look it. Yes,--may-be you do, though. But you've changed since
+_I_ first knew you."
+
+"Why, I was nothing but a baby then, Sandy."
+
+"Yes, yes,--I know; but you're changed since then!"
+
+So they all spoke to Elizabeth, praising her, confiding in her with
+loving willingness,--the Daughter of the Regiment.
+
+The gardener was proud of his assistant, and seemed to enjoy the part
+she took in his labor. They worked till noon, Elizabeth stopping hardly
+a moment to rest. All this while the prisoner stood watching by his
+window, and the gardener saw him. The sight occasioned him a new
+perplexity, and he gravely considered the subject. It was a good while
+before he said to Elizabeth, speaking on conviction, in his usual low
+and rather mysterious tone,--
+
+"There's some one will enjoy it when all's done."
+
+"Who is that?" asked she, thinking he meant herself, perhaps.
+
+"One up above," was the answer.
+
+But though Sandy spoke thus plainly, he did not look toward the
+prison,--and the prison was the last place of which Elizabeth was
+thinking. It was so long a time since the cell with the window had an
+occupant, that she was almost unconscious of that gloomy neighborhood.
+So, when the gardener explained that it was one up above who would
+enjoy her work, her eyes instantly sought the celestial heights. She
+was thinking of sun, or star, or angel, may-be, and smiling at Sandy's
+speech, for sympathy.
+
+He saw her new mistake, and made haste to correct this also.
+
+"Not so high," said he, cautiously.
+
+Then, but as it seemed of chance, and not of purpose, the eyes of
+Elizabeth Montier turned toward the prison-wall, and fixed upon that
+window, the solitary one visible from the garden, and her face flushed
+in a manner that told her surprise--when she saw a man behind the iron
+bars.
+
+"Oh," said she, looking away quickly, as if conscious of a wrong done,
+"what made you tell me?"
+
+"I guess you will like to think one shut up like him will take a little
+pleasure looking at what he can't get at," said Sandy, almost
+sharply,--replying to something he did not quite understand, the pain
+and the reproof of Elizabeth's speech.
+
+"Oh, yes!" she answered, and went on with her work.
+
+But though she might be pleased to think that her labor would answer
+another and more serious purpose than her own gratification, or that of
+the pretty flowers, it was something new and strange for the girl to
+work under this mysterious sense of oversight.
+
+"You have only got to speak the word," said the gardener, who had
+perceived her perplexity, and was desirous of bringing her speedily to
+his view of the case, "just speak, and he will be carried back to his
+old cell below, t'other side."
+
+"Will he?"
+
+"Yes,--sure's you live, if he troubles you, Miss Elizabeth. Nobody will
+think of letting him trouble you."
+
+"Oh, me!" she exclaimed, quickly, "I should die quicker than have him
+moved where he couldn't see the garden."
+
+"I thought so," said Sandy, satisfied.
+
+"Did you think I would complain of his standing by his window, Sandy?"
+
+"How did I know you would like to be stared at?" asked he, with a
+laugh.
+
+Elizabeth blushed and looked grave; to her the matter seemed too
+terrible.
+
+"I might have said something," she mused, sadly.
+
+"And if it had been to the wrong person," suggested Sandy;--"for they
+a'n't very fond of him, I guess."
+
+"Who is he, then? I never heard."
+
+"He has been shut up in that building now a'most five year, Elizabeth,"
+said Sandy, leaning on the handle of the spade he had struck into the
+ground with emphasis.
+
+"Five years!"
+
+"Summer heat, and winter cold. All the same to him. No wonder he
+sticks, as if he was glued, to the window, now he's got one worth the
+glass."
+
+"Oh, let him!"
+
+"If he could walk about the garden, it would be better yet."
+
+"Won't he, Sandy?"
+
+"I can't say. He's here for some terrible piece of work, they say. And
+nobody knows what his name is, I guess,--hereabouts, I mean. I never
+heard it. He won't be out very quick. But let him _look_ out, any way."
+
+"Oh, Sandy! I might have said something that would have hindered!"
+
+"Didn't I know you wouldn't for the world? That's why I told you."
+
+The gardener now went on with his spading. But Elizabeth's work seemed
+finished for this day. Above them stood the prisoner. He guessed not
+what gentle hearts were pitiful with thinking of his sorrow.
+
+The next day the prisoner was not at the window, nor the next day, nor
+the next. Sandy was bold enough to ask the keeper, Mr. Laval, what was
+the meaning of it, and learned that the man was ill, and not likely to
+recover. Sandy told Elizabeth, and they agreed in thinking that for the
+poor creature death was probably the least of evils.
+
+But the day following that on which they came to this conclusion, the
+sick man appeared before Sandy's astonished eyes. He was under the
+keeper's care. The physician had ordered this change of air, and they
+came to the garden at an hour when there was least danger of meeting
+other persons in the walks.
+
+Sandy had much to tell Elizabeth when he saw her next. She trembled
+while he told her how he thought that he had seen a ghost when the
+keeper came leading the prisoner, whose pale face, tall figure, feeble
+step, appeared to have so little to do with human nature and affairs.
+
+"Did he seem to care for the flowers? did he take any?" she asked.
+
+"No,--he would not touch them. The keeper offered him whatever he would
+choose. He desired nothing. But he looked at all, he saw
+everything,--even the beds of vegetables," Sandy said.
+
+"Did he seem pleased?" Elizabeth again asked.
+
+"Pleased!" exclaimed Sandy. "That's for you and me,--not a man that's
+been shut up these five years. No,--he didn't look pleased. I don't
+know how he looked; don't ask me; 'tisn't pleasant to think of."
+
+"I would have made him take the flowers, if I had been here," said
+Elizabeth, in a manner that seemed very positive, in comparison with
+Sandy's uncertain speech.
+
+"May-be,--I dare say," Sandy acquiesced; but he evidently had his
+doubts even of her power in this business.
+
+She must take no notice of the prisoner, she was given to understand
+one day, if she was to remain in the garden while he walked there. So
+she took no notice.
+
+He came and went. Manuel, the keeper called him; and she was busy with
+her weeding, and neither saw nor heard. Ah, she did not!--did _not_ see
+the figure that came moving like a spectre through the gates!--did not
+hear the slow dragging step of one who is weary almost to
+helplessness,--the listless step that has lost the spring of hope, the
+exultation of life, the expectation of spirit, the strength of
+manhood!--She did hear, did see the man. We feel the nearness of our
+friend who is a thousand miles away. Something beside the sunshine is
+upon us, and receives our answering smile. That sudden shadow is not of
+the passing cloud. That voice at midnight is not the disturbance of a
+dream.--He walked about the garden; he retired to his cell. It might
+have been an hour, or a minute, or a day. It does not take time to
+dream a life's events. How is the drowning man whirled round the circle
+of experiences which were so slow in their development!
+
+Compassion without limit, courageous purpose impatient of inaction,
+troubled this young girl.
+
+"You behaved like a lady," said Sandy,--"you never looked up. You
+needn't run now, I'm sure, when he thinks of taking a turn. All we've
+got to do is to mind our own business, Mr. Laval says. I guess we can.
+But I did want to let off those chains."
+
+"What chains?" asked Elizabeth, as with a shudder she looked up at
+Sandy.
+
+"His wrists, you know,--locked," he explained.
+
+"Oh!" groaned the gentle soul, and she walked off, forgetful of the
+flowers, tools, Sandy, everything. But Sandy followed her; she heard
+him calling to her, and before the garden-gate she waited for him; he
+was following on a run.
+
+"I can tell you what it's for," said he, for he had no idea of keeping
+the secret to himself, and he dared not trust it to any other friend.
+
+"What is it?" she asked,--and she trembled when she asked, and while
+she waited for his answer.
+
+"For lighting the Church. Would you think that? He did such damage, it
+wasn't safe for him to be at liberty. That's how it was. I think he
+must be a Lutheran;--you know they don't believe in the Holy Ghost! Of
+course,--poor fellow!--it's right he should be shut up for warring with
+the Church that came down through the holy Apostles, when you know all
+the rest only started up with Luther and Calvin. He ought to have
+knowed better."
+
+"Who told you, Sandy?" asked Elizabeth, as if her next words might
+undertake to extenuate and justify.
+
+"It came straight enough, I understand. But--remember--you don't know
+anything about it. His name is Manuel, though;--don't dare to mention
+it;--that's what Mr. Laval calls him. Are you going? I wouldn't have
+told you a word, but you took his trouble so to heart. You see, now,
+it's right he should be shut up. But let on that you know anything, all
+the worse for me,--I mean, him!"
+
+"Yes," said Elizabeth, "you're safe, Sandy. Thank you for telling me."
+
+Sandy walked off with a mind relieved, for he believed in Elizabeth,
+and had found the facts communicated too great a burden to bear alone.
+
+She passed through the garden-gate most remote from the fort; it opened
+into a lonely road which ran inland from the coast, between the woods
+and the prison, and to the woods she went. The shadows were gloomy
+to-day, for she went among them lamenting the fate of the
+stranger;--the mystery surrounding him had increased, not lessened,
+with Sandy's explanation.
+
+Fighting against _the Church_ was an unimagined crime. Of the great
+conflict in which he had taken part, to the ruin of his fortunes, she
+knew nothing. The disputes of Christendom, had they been explained,
+would have seemed almost incredible to her. For, whatever was known and
+discussed in the circle of the Governor of the island, Drummer Montier,
+and such as he, kept the peace with all mankind. The Church took care
+of itself, and appeared neither the oppressor nor the Saviour of the
+world. What they had fought about in the first years of the possession
+of Foray, Montier could hardly have told,--and yet he was no fool. He
+could have given, of course, a partisan version of the struggle; but as
+to its real cause, or true result, he knew as little as the other five
+hundred men belonging to the regiment.
+
+While Elizabeth wandered through those gloomy woods, she saw no
+flowers, gathered no wild fruits,--though flowers and berries were
+perfect and abundant. Now and then she paused in her walk to look
+towards the prison, glimpses of whose strong walls were to be had
+through the trees. At length the sound of her father's horn came loud
+and clear from the cliffs beyond the wood. It fell upon her sombre
+meditation and slightly changed the current. She hurried forward to
+join him, and, as she went, a gracious purpose was shining in her face.
+
+When she returned home, it was by the unfrequented prison-way, her
+father playing the liveliest tunes he knew. For the first time in their
+lives they sat down by the side of the lonely road where they had
+emerged from the wood; Elizabeth's memory served her to recall every
+air that was sweet to her, and she listened while her father played,
+endeavoring to understand the sound those notes would have to "Manuel."
+
+Montier could think of no worthier employment than the practice of his
+music. Especially it pleased him that his daughter should ask so much
+as she was now asking: he could not discern all that was passing in her
+heart, nor see how many shadows moved before those sweet, serious eyes.
+
+They went home at night-fall together; and the young girl's step was
+not more light, now that her heart was troubled by what she must not
+reveal, even to him.
+
+The next morning Sandy was very busy with Elizabeth, tying up some
+flowers which had been tossed about, and broken, many of them, in the
+night gale, when the keeper came through the gate, leading this Manuel,
+who, grim as a spectral shadow, that had been fearful but for its
+exceeding pitifulness, stood now between her and all that she rejoiced
+in. "There!" exclaimed Sandy. Looking up, she saw them approaching
+straight along the path that led past the flowerbeds.
+
+"Your flowers had a pretty rough time of it in the storm," said Jailer
+Laval, as he drew near. He addressed the drummer's daughter,--but his
+eyes were on Sandy, with the suspicious and stern inquiry common to men
+who have betrayed a secret. But Sandy was busy with his delving.
+
+"Yes," answered Elizabeth, and she looked from the ground up to the
+faces of these men.
+
+"Is that a rose-bush? That was roughly handled," said Laval, pointing
+with his stick to the twisted rose-stalk covered with buds, over whose
+blighted promise she had been lamenting.
+
+"Yes," said Elizabeth again; but she hardly knew what she said, still
+less was she aware of the expression her face wore when she looked at
+the prisoner. Yes,--even as Sandy said, big wrists were chained
+together; he was more like a ghost than a man; his face was pale and
+hopeless, and woful beyond her understanding was the majesty of his
+mien.
+
+At such a price he paid for fights against _the Church!_ But in truth
+he had not the look of an evil, warring man. His gravity, indeed, was
+such as it seemed impossible to dispel. But only pity stirred the heart
+of Elizabeth Montier as she looked on him. Surely it was a face that
+never, in any excess of passion, could have looked malignance. Ah! and
+at such a price he purchased his sunshine, the fresh air, and a near
+vision of this flower-garden!--in chains!
+
+When she looked at him, his gaze was on her,--not upon the roses. She
+smiled, for pity's sake; but the smile met no return. His countenance
+had not the habit of responding to such glances. Sombre as death was
+that face. Then Elizabeth turned hastily away; but as the keeper also
+moved on a step, she detained him with a hurried "Wait a minute," and
+went on plucking the finest flowers in bloom. Like an iron statue stood
+the prisoner while she plucked the roses,--it was but a minute's
+work,--then she tied the flowers together and laid them on his fettered
+hands; whether he would refuse them, whether the gift pained or pleased
+him, whether the keeper approved, she seemed afraid to know,--for,
+having given the flowers, she went away in haste.
+
+It was not long after this first act of friendly courtesy, which had
+many a repetition,--for the keeper was at bottom a humane man, and not
+disposed to persecute his charge, while he was equally far from any
+carelessness in guarding or leniency of treatment that would have
+excited suspicion as to his purpose, in the minds of the authorities of
+the island,--not long after this day, when the fine sympathy betrayed
+for him by Elizabeth fell on Manuel's heart like dew, that the wife of
+the jailer died.
+
+Her death was sudden and unlooked-for, though neither Nature nor the
+woman could have been blamed for the shock poor Laval experienced.
+Death had fairly surrounded her, disarming her at every point, so that
+when he called her there was no resistance.
+
+Jailer Laval took the bereavement in a remorseful mood. The first thing
+to be done now was the very last he would have owned to purposing
+during her life-time. Release from that prison had been the woman's
+prayer, year in and year out, these ten years, and Death was the bearer
+of the answer to that prayer,--not her husband.
+
+But now, from the day of her sudden decease, the prison had become to
+him dreary beyond endurance. The mantle of her discontent fell on him,
+and, having no other confidant beside honest, stupid Sandy, he talked
+to him like a man who seriously thought of abandoning his labor, and
+retiring to that land across the sea for which his wife had pined
+during ten homesick years.
+
+Sandy, who might have regarded himself in the light of an "humble
+instrument," had he been capable of a particle of vanity or
+presumption, told Elizabeth Montier, with whom he had held many a
+conference concerning prison matters, since Manuel first began to walk
+along the southern garden-walk, where the flower-beds lay against the
+prison-wall. What was her answer? It came instantly, without
+premeditation or precaution,--
+
+"Then we must take his place, Sandy."
+
+"We, Miss?" said Sandy, with even greater consternation than surprise.
+
+"Yes," she replied, too much absorbed by what she was thinking, to mind
+him and his blunders,--"papa must take the prison."
+
+"Oh!"--and Sandy blushed through his tan at his absurd mistake. Then he
+laughed, for he saw that she had not noticed it. Then he looked grave,
+and wondering, and doubtful. The idea of Adolphus Montier's pretty wife
+and pretty daughter changing their pretty home for life in the dark
+prison startled him. He seemed to think it no less wrong than strange.
+But he did not express that feeling out and out; he was hindered, as he
+glanced sideways at the young girl who gazed so solemnly, so loftily,
+before her. At what she was looking he could not divine. He saw
+nothing.
+
+"I wouldn't be overly quick about that," said he, cautiously.
+
+"No danger!" was the prompt reply.
+
+"For I tell _you_, of all the places I ever see, that prison makes me
+feel the queerest. I believe it's one reason I let the flower-garden go
+so long," owned Sandy. He did not speak these words without an effort;
+and never had Elizabeth seen him so solemn. She also was grave,--but
+not after his manner of gravity.
+
+"You see what I did with the poor flower-beds, Sandy," said she. "Wait
+now till you see what happens to the prison."
+
+But it is one thing to purpose, and another to execute. Far easier for
+Elizabeth to declare than to conduct an heroic design. One thing
+prevented rest day and night,--the knowledge that Laval's intended
+resignation must be followed by a new application and appointment. With
+such a degree of sympathy had the condition of the captive inspired
+her, that the idea of the bare possibility of cruelty or neglect or
+brutality assuming the jailer's authority seemed to lay upon her all
+the responsibility of his future. She must act, for she dared not
+hesitate.
+
+One evening Adolphus took his horn, and, attended by wife and child,
+went out to walk. He meant to send a strain from the highest of the
+accessible coast-rocks. But Elizabeth changed his plan. The time was
+good for what she had to say. Instead of expending his enthusiasm on a
+flourish of notes, he was called upon to manifest it in a noble
+resolution.
+
+When Elizabeth invited her father to a prospect sylvan rather than
+marine, to the shady path on the border of the wood between it and the
+prison, Montier, easily drawn from any plan that concerned his own
+inclination merely, let his daughter lead, and she was responsible for
+all that followed in the history of that little family. So love defers
+to love, with divine courtesy, through all celestial movements.
+
+After playing a few airs, Montier's anticipated evening ended, and
+another set in. The sympathies of a condition, the opposite to that of
+which he had been so happily conscious, pressed too closely against
+him. The musician could not, for the life of him, have played with
+becoming spirit through any one of all the strains of victory he knew.
+
+Near him, under a tulip-tree, sat Pauline, with her knitting in her
+hand, the image of peace. Not so Elizabeth. She was doubting, troubled.
+But when the bird her father's music moved to sing was still, she
+spoke, as she had promised herself she would, asking a question, of
+whose answer she had not the slightest doubt.
+
+"Papa, do you know that Mr. Laval is going away?"
+
+"Why, yes, that's the talk, I believe."
+
+"Will they get somebody to take his place?"
+
+"Of course. There's a prisoner on hand yet, you know,--and the house to
+look after."
+
+"A big house, too, and dreadful dreary," remarked the mother of
+Elizabeth. "Laval's wife used to say, when she came up to see me
+sometimes, it was like being a prisoner to live in that building. And
+now she's dead and gone, he begins to think the same."
+
+"Suppose we take Laval's place," suggested Montier, looking very
+seriously at his wife; but the suggestion did not alarm her. Adolphus
+often expressed his satisfaction with existing arrangements by making
+propositions of exchange for other states of life, propositions which
+never disturbed his wife or daughter. They understood these
+demonstrations of his deep content. Therefore, at these words of his,
+Pauline smiled, and for the reason that the words could draw forth such
+a smile Elizabeth looked grave.
+
+"I wish we could, papa," said she.
+
+"You wish we could, you child?" exclaimed her mother, wondering. "It
+looks so pleasant, eh?" and the fair face of Pauline turned to the
+prison, and surveyed it, shuddering.
+
+"For the prisoner's sake," said Elizabeth. "Who knows but a cruel
+keeper may be put in Laval's place? He is almost dead with grief, that
+prisoner is,--I know by his face. After he is gone, there won't be any
+prisoner there,--and we could make it very pleasant."
+
+"Pleasant! What do you mean by pleasant?" asked Pauline, inwardly vexed
+that her child had suggested the question,--and yet too just, too
+kindly disposed, to put the subject away with imperative refusal to
+consider it. "I never was in a place so horrid."
+
+"But if it was our home, and all our things were there," urged
+Elizabeth, "it would be different. It depends on who lives in a house,
+you know."
+
+"Yes, that is so; it depends a little, but not entirely. It would be
+more than your mother could do to make a pleasant-looking place out of
+that prison. You see it is different in the situation, to begin with.
+Up where we live the sun is around us all day, if it is anywhere; and
+then the little rooms are so light! If you put a flower into them, you
+think you have a whole garden. Besides, it's Home up there, and down
+here it isn't."--Saying this, Adolphus rose up quickly, as though he
+had a mind to quit the spot.
+
+"When they select a man to fill Laval's place, of course they will be
+careful to choose one as good and kind," said Pauline, with mild
+confidence.
+
+"The jailer before him was not good and kind," remarked her daughter.
+
+"They dismissed him for it," said Adolphus, quickly.
+
+"But they said the prisoners were half-starved, and abused every way.
+It was a good while before it was found out. That might happen again,
+and less chance of any one knowing it. He is so near dead now, it
+wouldn't take much to kill him."
+
+No one replied to this argument. Pauline and Adolphus talked of other
+things, and the musician returned to his music. But all in good time.
+Elizabeth was capable of patience, and at last her father said, looking
+around him to make sure that his remark would have only two
+listeners,--
+
+"That prisoner isn't a man to be talked of about here. You never heard
+_me_ mention him. Laval used to give a--a--bad account of him. He had
+to be kept alive."
+
+"Till he heard your music, papa, and was moved up to the room with a
+window. Did he tell you that?" asked Elizabeth.
+
+"He said he thought the music did him good," acknowledged Adolphus.
+
+"May-be it was the same as with Saul when David played for him. But he
+does not look like a bad man, papa. He looks grander than any of our
+officers. And he has fought battles, they say. He is very brave."
+
+Both Adolphus and Pauline Montier looked at their daughter with the
+most profound surprise when she spoke thus. Not merely her words, but
+her manner of speaking, caused this not agreeable perplexity. Her
+emotion was not only too obvious, it was too deep for their
+understanding. The mother was the first to speak.
+
+"How did you hear all this, child? _I_ never heard him talked of in
+this way. They don't talk about him at all,--do they, Adolphus?"
+
+"No," he answered; but he spoke the word very mildly. The tone did not
+indicate a want of sympathy in the compassion of his daughter.
+
+Elizabeth looked from her mother to her father. What friends had she,
+if these were not her friends?
+
+"The jailer told Sandy, and Sandy told me," she said. "But they never
+talk to any other person. Oh! I was afraid to hear about it; but now I
+have heard, I was afraid not to speak. Would it be so dreadful for you
+to live here, when we could always have music and the garden? And these
+woods seem pleasant, when you get acquainted. Day or night I can't get
+him out of my mind. It is just as if you were shut up that way, papa. I
+am afraid to be happy when any one is so wretched."
+
+The result was, that Elizabeth's words, and not so much her words as
+the state of things she contrived to make apparent by them, brought
+Adolphus Montier to a clear, resistless sense of the prisoner's fate.
+Over the features of that fate he was for days brooding. Now and then a
+word that indicated the direction of his thinking would escape him in
+his wife's hearing. Silently Pauline followed Adolphus to the end of
+all this thinking. Once she walked alone along the unfrequented road
+that ran between the prison and the wood, down to the sea; and she
+looked at the gloomy fortress, and tried to think about it as she
+should, if certain that within its walls her lot would soon be cast.
+
+And more than once Montier walked home that way; and if it chanced that
+he had his horn or his drum with him, he marched at quickstep, and
+played the liveliest tunes, and emerged from the shadows of the wood
+with a spirit undaunted. He had played for the prisoner, whom he had
+never yet seen,--but not more for him than for himself.
+
+One Sunday, when the little family walked out together, Adolphus and
+his wife fell into a pleasant train of thought,--and when they were
+together, thought and speech were generally simultaneous. As they
+passed the prison,--for Adolphus had led the way to this path,--Laval
+was standing in the door. They stopped to speak with him; whereat he
+invited them into his quarters.
+
+In this walk, Elizabeth had fallen behind her parents. When she saw
+them going into the prison, she quickened her pace, for her father
+beckoned to her. But she was in no earnest haste to follow, as became
+sufficiently manifest when she was left alone.
+
+They had not gone far in their talk, however, when she came to the
+doorway. Laval, in all his speech, was a deliberate man, and neither
+Adolphus nor his wife showed any eagerness in the conduct of the
+conversation now begun. The contrast between the gloom of the apartment
+and the light and cheerfulness of their own home was apparent to all of
+them. Elizabeth felt the oppression under which each of the little
+party seemed to labor, the instant she joined her parents. Susceptible
+as they all were to the influences of Nature, her sunshine and her
+shadow, this gloom which fell upon them was nothing more than might
+have been anticipated.
+
+Jailer Laval was homesick, and innocent of a suspicion of what was
+passing in the minds of his guests; he was therefore free in making his
+complaints, and acknowledged that he was not fit to keep the
+prison,--it required a man of more nerve than he had. The dread of the
+place which his poor wife had entertained seemed to have taken
+possession of him since her death. All the arguments which he once
+used, in the endeavor to bolster her courage, he had now forgotten. He
+was very cautious when he began to speak of the prisoner, and tried to
+divert Adolphus from the point by saying that he would much prefer a
+house full of convicts to one so empty as this. There was at least
+something like society in that, and something to do.
+
+Adolphus, in spite of his discontent at hearing merely these deductions
+of experience, when his desire was to know something of Manuel, heard
+nothing of importance. The speech of the jailer on this subject was not
+to be had. His mind seemed to be wandering, except when his wife, or
+his native land, was referred to; then he brightened into speech, but
+never once into cheerfulness. As he sat there in the middle of his
+chamber, he seemed to represent the genius of the place,--and anything
+less enlivening or desirable in the way of human life could hardly be
+imagined. Pauline looked at him and sighed. She looked at Adolphus;--a
+pang shot through her heart; the shadow of the man seemed to overshadow
+him. Out of this place, where all appeared to be fast changing into
+"goblins damned"!
+
+It was she who led the way; but, pausing in the court-yard, Elizabeth
+evinced still greater haste to be gone, for she ran on with fleet step,
+and a heart heavy with foreboding as to the result of this interview.
+She was also impatient to get into the open sunlight, and did not rest
+in this progress she was making outward till she had come to the
+sea-shore. Elizabeth Montier was in a state of dire perplexity just
+then, and if she had been asked whether she would really choose to
+effect the change proposed in their way of living, it would have been
+no easy matter for her to discover her mind.
+
+By the sea-shore she sat down, and her father and mother followed
+slowly on. They were not talking as they came. But as they approached
+the beach, Adolphus could not resist the prospect before them. Loud was
+the blast he blew upon his horn, nor did he cease playing until his
+music had restored him to a more natural mood than that in which the
+interview with Laval left him. The prison was becoming a less startling
+image of desolate dreariness to him. And Adolphus was the master-spirit
+in his family. If he was gay, it was barely possible for his wife and
+child to be sad. Of the prison not one word was spoken by either. They
+had not revealed to each other their inmost mind when they went into
+Laval's quarters; they did not reveal it when they came thence. But as
+they strolled along the rocky shore, or returned homeward, they thought
+of little beside the prison and the prisoner. As to Elizabeth, nothing
+required of her that she should urge the matter further. She had
+neither heart nor courage for such urging.
+
+It was Adolphus himself who spoke to Pauline the next day, after he had
+deliberately thrown himself in the way of the prisoner, that he might
+with his own eyes see what manner of man he was; for seeing was
+believing.
+
+"Pauline," said he, almost persuaded of the truth of his own words,
+"you and Elizabeth would make a different place of that prison from
+what it is now. I should like to see it tried."
+
+Pauline Montier made no haste to answer; she was afraid that she knew
+what he expected of her.
+
+"Do you see," continued Adolphus, "Elizabeth won't speak of it again?
+But what must she think of us? He is a man. They say we are all
+brothers."
+
+"I know it," said, almost sighed, his wife.
+
+"Looking out for our own comfort!" exclaimed Adolphus. "So mighty
+afraid of doing what we'd have done for us! Besides, I believe we could
+make it pretty pleasant. Cool in summer, and warm in winter. I'd
+whitewash pretty thorough. And if the windows were rubbed up, your way,
+the light might get through."
+
+"Poor Joan Laval!" said Pauline. "Body and mind gave out. She was
+different at first."
+
+"Do you think it was the prison?" asked Adolphus, quickly, like a man
+halting between two opinions,--there was no knowing which way he would
+jump.
+
+"Something broke her down," replied his wife. She was looking from one
+window,--he from another.
+
+"Joan Laval was Joan Laval," said Adolphus, with an effort. "Always
+was. Frightened at her own shadow, I suppose. But--there! we won't
+think of it. I know how it looks to you, Pauline. Very well,--I don't
+see why we should make ourselves miserable for the sake of somebody who
+has got to be miserable anyhow,--and deserves it, I suppose, or he
+wouldn't be where he is."
+
+"Poor fellow!" sighed Pauline,--as if it were now her turn on the rack.
+
+Here Adolphus let the matter rest. He had overcome his own scruples so
+far as honestly to make this proposal to his wife. But he would do no
+more than propose,--not for an instant urge the point. Surely, that
+could not be required of him. Charity, he remembered, begins at home.
+
+But Pauline could not let the matter rest here. Her struggle was yet to
+come. It was she, then, who alone was unwilling to sacrifice her
+present home for the sake of a stranger and prisoner!
+
+Now Pauline Montier was a good Christian woman, and various words of
+holy utterance began herewith to trouble her. And from a by no means
+tranquil musing over them, she began to ask herself, What, after all,
+was home? Was happiness indeed dependent on locality when the heart of
+love was hers? Could she not give up so little as a house, in order to
+secure the comfort of a son of misfortune,--a solitary man,--a dying
+prisoner? What she would not give up freely might any day be taken from
+her. If fire did not destroy it, the government, which took delight in
+interference, might see fit to order that the house they occupied
+should be used again for the original purpose of storage.
+
+And then the discomforts of the prison began to appear very
+questionable. She remembered that Joan Laval was, as Adolphus hinted,
+weakly, nervous, 'frightened at her own shadow,'--a woman who had
+never, for any single day of her life, lived with a lofty purpose,--a
+cumberer of the ground, who could only cast a shadow.
+
+She perceived that they would be close to the flower-garden; a minute's
+walk would lead them to the pleasant woods,--and Pauline Montier always
+loved the woods.
+
+Indeed, when she began to take this ground, the first steps of
+occupation alone could be timid or doubtful. After that, her humanity,
+her sympathy, her confidence in her husband and daughter, drew the
+woman on, till she forgot how difficult the first steps had been.
+
+She surprised both husband and daughter by saying to Adolphus, the
+moment she came to her conclusion, that he had better make inquiry of
+Laval whether he had signified his intention to resign, and forthwith
+seek the appointment from the Governor of the island.
+
+When Pauline said this, she attested her sincerity by making ready to
+accompany Adolphus at once to the prison, that they might run no risk
+of losing the situation by delay. Seeing that they were of one mind,
+and entirely confiding in each other, they all went together to the
+prison to consult with Laval. Thus it came to pass, that, before the
+week ended, the charge of the prison had been transferred to Adolphus
+Montier.
+
+The family made great efforts in order to impart an air of cheerfulness
+and home-comfort to their new dwelling-place. Adolphus whitewashed,
+according to promise; Pauline scrubbed, according to nature; they
+arranged and rearranged their little stock of furniture,--set the
+loud-ticking day-clock on the mantel-shelf, and displayed around it the
+china cups, the flower-vase, and the little picture of their native
+town which Adolphus cut from a sheet of letter-paper some old friend
+had sent him, and framed with more tender feeling than skill. They did
+their best, each one, and said to one another, that, when they got used
+to the place, to the large rooms and high ceilings and narrow windows,
+it would of course seem like home, to them, because--it _was_ their
+HOME. Were they not all together? were not these their own household
+goods, around them? Still, they needed all this mutual encouragement
+and heartiness of coöperation which was so nobly, so generously
+manifested; and it was sincere enough to insure the very result of
+contentment and satisfaction which they were so wise as to anticipate.
+But the Governor thought,--_The Drummer is getting ambitious; he wants
+a big house, and authority!_
+
+Ex-jailer Laval was exceedingly active in assisting his own outgoing
+and the incoming of Montier. He helped Adolphus in the heavy labors of
+removal, and laughed more during the conduct of these operations than
+he had been known to do in years. He said nothing to Prisoner Manuel of
+the intended change in jail-administration until the afternoon when for
+the last time he walked out with him.
+
+The information was received with apparent indifference, without
+question or comment, until Laval, half vexed, and wholly sorrowful for
+the sad state of the prisoner, said,--
+
+"I am sorry for you, Sir. I can say that, now I'm going off. I've been
+as much a prisoner as you have, I believe. And I wish you were going to
+be set free to-night, as I am. I am going home! But I leave you in good
+care,--better than mine. I never have gone ahead of my instructions in
+taking care of you. I never took advantage of your case, to be cruel or
+neglectful. If anything has ever passed that made you think hard of me,
+I hope you will forgive it, for I can say I have done the best I could
+or dared."
+
+Thus called upon to speak, the prisoner said merely, "I believe
+you."
+
+Whereat the jailer spoke again, and with a lighter heart.
+
+"I am glad you're in luck this time,--for you are. You don't know who
+is coming to take the charge,--come, I mean, for they are all in, and
+settled. That's Montier, the little girl's father. He is a drummer, and
+a little of everything else. It's his horn that you hear sometimes. And
+you know Elizabeth, who was always so kind about the flowers. His wife,
+too, she's a pretty woman, and kind as kind can be."
+
+"What have they come here for?" asked the prisoner, amazed.
+
+"I'll tell you," said Laval, more generous than he had designed to be;
+but he knew how he should wish, when the sea rolled between him and
+Foray, that he had spoken every comfortable word in his knowledge to
+this man; he knew it by his recent experiences of remorse in reference
+to his buried wife, and was wise enough to profit by the
+knowledge;--"I'll tell you. It's on your account. They were afraid
+somebody that didn't know how long you have been here, and how much you
+have suffered, would get the place; so they all came together and asked
+for it. They had a pretty little house up nigh the barracks, but they
+gave it up to come here. You'll see Montier to-night. For when I go
+back to your room with you, then I'm going off to--to"----he hesitated,
+for foremost among his instructions was this, that he should remain
+silent about his purpose of returning home; he was not to go as a
+messenger for the prisoner across the ocean to their native land----"to
+my business," he said. "If you'll be kind to him, you will make
+something by it. I thought I would tell you,--so, when you saw a
+strange face in your room, you would know what it meant without
+asking."
+
+"I thank you," said the prisoner; and to the jailer it now seemed as if
+the figure of the man beside him grew in height and strength,--as if he
+trod the ground less feebly and listlessly while he spoke these words.
+A divine consolation must have strengthened him even then, or he could
+never have added with such emphasis, "Wherever you go, take this my
+assurance with you,--you have not been cruel or careless. You have done
+as well as you could. I thank you for it."
+
+"You don't ask me where I'm going," said the jailer, after a silence
+that seemed but brief to him,--such a deal of argument he had
+dispatched, so many difficulties he had overcome in those few moments,
+whose like, for mental activity and conclusiveness, he had never seen
+before, and never would see again. "I shall be asked if I have told
+you. But--where did you come from? Do not tell me your name. But whom
+did you leave behind you that you would care most should know you are
+alive and in good hands?"
+
+These questions, asked in good faith, would have had their answer; but
+while the prisoner was preparing such reply as would have proceeded,
+brief and wholly to the point, from the confusion of hope and surprise,
+the Governor of Foray came in sight, drew near, and, suspicious, as
+became him, walked in silence by the prisoner's side, while Laval
+obeyed his mute instructions, leading Manuel back to his cell. A vessel
+was approaching the shore of Foray.
+
+Having disposed of his prisoner, the jailer in turn was marched, like
+one under arrest, up to the fort, where he remained, an object of
+suspicion, until his time came for sailing, and, without knowing it, he
+went home under guard.
+
+When Adolphus Montier ascended to the prisoner's room that night, he
+found him standing by the window. After Laval left him, he had looked
+from out that window, and seen the white sail of a vessel; he could not
+see it now, but there he stood, watching, as though he knew not that
+his chance of hope was over.
+
+As Adolphus entered the room, the prisoner turned immediately to
+him,--asking quietly, as if he had not been suddenly tossed into a gulf
+of despair by the breeze that brought him hope,--
+
+"Has Laval sailed?"
+
+"When the cannon fired," was the answer.
+
+Then Adolphus placed the dish containing the prisoner's supper on the
+table; he had already lighted the lamp in the hall. And now he wanted
+to say something, on this his first appearance in the capacity of
+keeper, and he knew what to say,--he had prepared himself abundantly,
+he thought. But both the heart and the imagination of Adolphus Montier
+stood in the way of such utterance as he had prepared. The instant his
+eyes fell on that figure, lonely and forlorn, the instant he heard that
+question, his kind heart became weakness, he stood in the prisoner's
+place,--he saw the vessel sailing on its homeward voyage,--he beheld
+men stepping from sea to shore, walking in happy freedom through the
+streets of home;--a vision that filled his eyes with tears was before
+him, and he was long in controlling his emotion sufficiently to say,--
+
+"We are in Laval's place, Sir, and we hope you will have no cause to
+regret the change. I don't know how to be cruel and severe,--but I must
+do my duty. But I wasn't put here for a tyrant."
+
+"I know why you are here; Laval told me," said the prisoner.
+
+"Then we're friends, a'n't we?" asked Adolphus; "though I must do my
+duty by them that employ me. You understand. I'd set every door and
+window of this building wide open for you, if I had my way; though I
+don't know what you're here for. But I swear before heaven and earth,
+nothing will tempt me to forget my duty to the government;--if you
+should escape, it would be over my dead body. So you see my position."
+
+"Yes," said the prisoner; and if anything could have tempted a smile
+from him, this manner of speech would have done it. But Adolphus was
+far enough from smiling.
+
+"Come, eat something," said he, with tremulous persuasion. "My wife
+knows how to get up such things. She will do the best for you she can."
+
+"Thank you."
+
+The prisoner again looked out of the window. It was growing dark; the
+outline of sea and land was fading out of sight; dreary looked the
+world without,--but within the lamp seemed shining with a brighter
+light than usual. And here was a person and a speech, a human sympathy,
+that almost warmed and soothed him.
+
+He approached the table where Adolphus had spread his supper. He sat in
+the chair that was placed for him, and the Drummer waited on him,
+recommending Pauline's skill again, much as he might have presented a
+petition. The prisoner ate little, but he praised Pauline, and said
+outright that he had tasted nothing so palatable as her supper these
+five years. This cheered Montier a little, but still his spirits were
+almost at the lowest point of depression.
+
+"You seem to pity me," remarked the prisoner, when Adolphus was
+gathering up the remains of the frugal supper.
+
+"My God!--yes!" exclaimed Adolphus, stopping short, and looking at the
+man.
+
+It was a sort of sympathy that could not harm the person on whom it was
+bestowed.
+
+"I consider myself well off to-night," said he, quietly. "It is your
+little daughter that works in the garden so much? I have often watched
+her."
+
+"Yes," said Adolphus, almost with a sob.
+
+"And you are the man whose music has been so cheering many a time?"
+
+"I want to know what airs you like best," said the poor Drummer,
+hurriedly.
+
+"I never heard you play one that I did not like."--Precious praise!
+
+"Then you like music? I can be pretty tolerably severe, Sir, if I make
+up my mind!" said Adolphus, as if addressing his own conscience, to set
+that at rest by this open avowal. "There's no danger of my doing wrong
+by the government. I'd have to pay for you with my life. Yes,--for it
+would be with my liberty. And there's my wife and child. So you
+understand where I am, as I told you before; but, by thunder! you shall
+have all the music you want, and all the flowers; and my little girl
+can sing pretty well,--her mother taught her. And if you're sick, there
+a'n't a better nurse in the hospital than Pauline Montier. There! good
+night!"
+
+Adolphus took up the tray and hurried out of the room,--and forgot to
+fasten the door behind him until he had gone half way down the stairs.
+He came back in haste, and turned the great key with half the blood in
+his body burning in his face,--not merely an evidence of the exertion
+made in that operation, which he endeavored to perform noiselessly. He
+was ashamed of this caging business; but he would have argued you out
+of countenance then and there, had you ventured a word against the
+government,--though, as he said, he was in the dark concerning the
+prisoner's crime.
+
+When he went down stairs he found supper prepared, and Pauline and
+their daughter waiting for him. He sat down in silence, seeking to
+avoid the questioning eyes which turned toward him so expectant and so
+hopeful. Discerning his mood, neither wife nor daughter troubled him
+with questions; at last, of himself, he broke out vehemently,--
+
+"I wouldn't for the world have lost the chance! Laval wasn't the man to
+take care of that gentleman. But he don't say a word against Laval,
+mind you. He spoke about the flowers and the music. Oh, hang it!"
+
+Here, in spite of himself, the Drummer was wholly overcome. He bowed
+his head to the table and broke into violent weeping. Another barrier
+gave way beside. Elizabeth flew to him. He seemed not to heed her, nor
+the sudden cry, "Oh, father!" that escaped her. She sat down by his
+side,--she wept as he was weeping. It was a stormy emotion that raged
+through her heart, when her tears burst forth. She was not weeping for
+pity merely, nor because her father wept. Long before he lifted his
+head, she was erect, and quiet, and hopeful,--but a child no more. She
+was a woman to love, a woman to dare,--fit and ready for the guiding of
+an angel. By-and-by Adolphus said to Pauline,--"If any one else had
+undertaken this job in our place, we should have deserved to be shut
+out of heaven for it. Thinking twice about it! I'm ashamed of myself.
+Why,--why,--he looks like a ghost. But he won't look that way long! We
+aren't here to browbeat a man, and kill him by inches, I take it."
+
+"No, indeed!" said Pauline, as if the bare idea filled her with
+indignation. The three were surely one now.
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+WALDEINSAMKEIT.
+
+  I do not count the hours I spend
+    In wandering by the sea;
+  The forest is my loyal friend,
+    Like God it useth me.
+
+  In plains that room for shadows make
+    Of skirting hills to lie,
+  Bound in by streams which give and take
+    Their colors from the sky,
+
+  Or on the mountain-crest sublime,
+    Or down the oaken glade,
+  Oh, what have I to do with time?
+    For this the day was made.
+
+  Cities of mortals woebegone
+    Fantastic care derides,
+  But in the serious landscape lone
+    Stern benefit abides.
+
+  Sheen will tarnish, honey cloy,
+    And merry is only a mask of sad;
+  But sober on a fund of joy
+    The woods at heart are glad.
+
+  There the great Planter plants
+    Of fruitful worlds the grain,
+  And with a million spells enchants
+    The souls that walk in pain.
+
+  Still on the seeds of all he made
+    The rose of beauty burns;
+  Through times that wear, and forms that fade,
+    Immortal youth returns.
+
+  The black ducks mounting from the lake,
+    The pigeon in the pines,
+  The bittern's boom, a desert make
+    Which no false art refines.
+
+  Down in yon watery nook,
+    Where bearded mists divide,
+  The gray old gods that Chaos knew,
+    The sires of Nature, hide.
+
+  Aloft, in secret veins of air,
+    Blows the sweet breath of song;
+  Ah! few to scale those uplands dare,
+    Though they to all belong.
+
+  See thou bring not to field or stone
+    The fancies found in books;
+  Leave authors' eyes, and fetch your own,
+    To brave the landscape's looks.
+
+  And if, amid this dear delight,
+    My thoughts did home rebound,
+  I should reckon it a slight
+    To the high cheer I found.
+
+  Oblivion here thy wisdom is,
+    Thy thrift the sleep of cares;
+  For a proud idleness like this
+    Crowns all life's mean affairs.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+THE GERMAN POPULAR LEGEND OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS.
+
+
+We doubt whether any popular legend has ever taken deeper root among
+the common people and spread farther in the world than the story of Dr.
+Faustus and his reckless compact with the Evil One. We do not intend to
+compare it, of course, to those ancient traditions which seem to have
+constituted a tie of relationship between the most distant nations in
+times anterior to history. These are mostly of a mythological
+character,--as, for instance, those referring to the existence of
+elementary spirits. Their connection with mankind has, in the earliest
+times, occupied the imagination of the most widely different races. A
+certain analogy we can easily explain by the affinity of human hearts
+and human minds. But when we find that exactly the same tradition is
+reëchoed by the mountains of Norway and Sweden in the ballad of "Sir
+Olaf and the Erl-king's Daughter," which the milkmaid of Brittany sings
+in the lay of the "Sieur Nann and the Korigan," and in a language
+radically different from the Norse,--when, here and there, the same
+_forms_ of superstition meet us in the ancient popular poetry of the
+Servians and modern Greeks, which were familiar to the Teutonic and
+Cambrian races of early centuries,--must we not believe in a primeval
+intimate connection between distant nations? are we not compelled to
+acknowledge that there must have existed, in those remote times, means
+of communication unknown to us?
+
+We repeat, however, that, in calling the legend of Dr. Faustus the most
+widely-spread we know of, we cannot allude to these primitive
+traditions, the circulation of which is perfectly mysterious. We speak
+of such popular legends as admit of their origin being traced. Among
+these the Faustus-tradition may be called comparatively new. To us
+Americans, indeed, whose history commences only with the modern history
+of Europe, a period of three hundred years seems quite a respectable
+space of time. But to the Germans and the Scandinavians, from whose
+popular lore the names of Horny Siegfried and Dietric of Berne,
+(Theodoric the Great,) and of Roland, are not yet completely erased, a
+story of the sixteenth century must appear comparatively modern.
+
+The popularity of the legend of Faustus, although of German origin,
+was, almost from its first rise, not confined to German lands. The
+French, Dutch, and English versions of the poor Doctor's adventurous
+life are but very little younger than his German biographies; and it
+was about the same time that he was made the subject of a tragedy by
+Marlowe, one of the most gifted of Shakspeare's dramatic predecessors.
+We are not afraid of erring, when we ascribe the uncommon popularity
+and rapid circulation of this legend principally to its deep and
+intrinsic _moral_ interest. Faustus's time of action was exactly the
+period of the great religious reformation which shook all Europe.
+During the sixteenth century, even the untaught and illiterate classes
+learned to watch more closely over the salvation of their souls than
+when they felt themselves safe beneath the guardianship of the Holy
+Mother Church. And to those who remained under the guidance of the
+latter, the dangers of learning and independent thinking, and of
+meddling with forbidden subjects, were pointed out by the monks with
+two-fold zeal. It cannot, therefore, surprise us, that the life and
+death of a famous contemporary, who for worldly goods and worldly
+wisdom placed his soul at stake, excited a deep and general interest.
+In one feature, indeed, his history bears decidedly the stamp of the
+great moral revolution of the time: we mean its awful end. There are two
+legends of the Middle Ages--and perhaps many more--in which the
+fundamental ideas are the same. The two Saints, Cyprianus, (the "Magico
+Prodigioso" of Calderon,) and Bishop Theophilus, (the hero of Conrad of
+Würzburg,) were both tempted by the Devil with worldly goods and
+worldly prosperity, and allured into the pool of sin perhaps deeper
+than Faustus; but repentance and penitence saved them, and secured to
+them finally a place among the saints of the Church. But for Faustus
+there is no compromise; his awful compact is binding; and whatever hope
+of his salvation modern poetry has excited for the unfortunate Doctor
+is, to say the least, in direct contradiction of the popular legend.
+
+Faustus was the Cagliostro of the sixteenth century. It is not an easy
+task to find the few grains of historical truth referring to him, among
+the chaff of popular fiction that several centuries have accumulated
+around his name. A halo so mysterious and miraculous surrounds his
+person, that not only have various other famous individuals, who lived
+long before or after him, been completely amalgamated with him, but
+even his real existence has been denied, and not much over a hundred
+years after his death he was declared by scholars to be a mere myth. A
+certain J.C. Duerr attempted to prove, in a learned "Dissertatio
+Epistolica de Johanne Fausto," (printed at Altorf, in 1676,) that the
+magician of that name had never existed, and that all the strange
+things which had been related of him referred to the printer John
+Faust, or Fust,--who had, indeed, been confounded with him before,
+although he lived nearly a century earlier. And when we think of the
+superstitious fear and monkish prejudice with which the great invention
+of printing was at first regarded, such a confusion of two persons of
+similar name, and both, in the eyes of a dark age, servants of Satan,
+cannot surprise us. Our John Faustus was also sometimes confounded with
+two younger contemporaries, one of whom was called Faustus Socinus, and
+made Poland the chief theatre of his operations; the other, George
+Sabellicus, expressly named himself Faustus Junior, also Faustus Minor.
+Both were celebrated necromancers and astrologers, who probably availed
+themselves of the advantage derived from the adoption of the famous
+name of Faustus.[1]
+
+A second attempt to prove the historical nonentity of Dr. Faustus was
+made at Wittenberg, in the year 1683. Some of his popular biographers
+had claimed for him a professorship at that celebrated university, or
+at least brought him into connection with it,--a pretension which the
+actual professors of that learned institution thought rather
+prejudicial to their honor, and which they were desirous of seeing
+refuted. Stimulated, as it would seem, by a zeal of this kind, J.G.
+Neumann wrote a "Dissertatio de Fausto Praestigiatore," in which he not
+only tried to prove that Dr. Faustus had never been at Wittenberg, but
+pronounced his whole story fabulous. An attempt like this would not
+surprise us in our own time, the age of historical skepticism; but the
+seventeenth century gave credit to narratives having much slighter
+foundation. Although this dissertation was full of historical mistakes
+and erroneous statements, it made some sensation, as is proved by its
+four successive editions. It was also translated into German. All
+Neumann's endeavors, however, could not stand against the testimony of
+contemporaries, who partly had known Faustus personally, partly had
+heard of him from living witnesses, and allude to his death as an
+occurrence of recent date.
+
+John Faustus, or rather, after the German form of his name, Faust, was
+born in the last quarter of the fifteenth century, probably not before
+the year 1490. According to the oldest "Volksbuch" (People's Book)
+which bears his name,[2] his parents then lived at Roda, in the present
+Duchy of Saxe-Weimar. The same place is likewise named as his native
+village by G.R. Widmann, his first regular biographer, who says that
+his father was a peasant.[3] Although these two works are the
+foundation of the great number of later ones referring to the same
+subject, some of these latter deviate with respect to Faustus's
+birthplace. J.N. Pfitzer, for instance, who, seventy years after
+Widmann, published a revised and much altered edition of his book,
+makes Faust see the light at Saltwedel, a small town belonging then to
+the principality of Anhalt, and must have had his reasons for this
+amendment. A confusion of this kind may, indeed, have early arisen from
+a change of residence of our hero's parents during his infancy. But the
+oldest Volksbuch was written nearly forty years after the death of
+Faustus, and Widmann's work appeared even ten years later,--both,
+indeed, professing to be founded on the Doctor's writings, as well as
+on an autobiographical manuscript, discovered in his library after his
+death. Perhaps, however, the assertion of two of his contemporaries,
+one of whom was personally acquainted with him, is more entitled to
+credit in this respect. Joh. Manlius and Joh. Wier--the latter in his
+biography of Cornelius Agrippa--name Kundlingen, in Würtemberg, as his
+birthplace.
+
+Manlius, in his work, "Collectanea Locorum Communium," (Basel, 1600,)
+speaks of him as of an acquaintance. He says that Faustus studied at
+Krakow, in Poland, where there was a regular professorship of Magic, as
+was the case at several universities. Others let him make his studies
+at Ingolstadt, and acquire there the honors of a Doctor of Medicine.
+Both these statements may be true, as also that he was for some time
+the companion and pupil of Cornelius Agrippa, of Nettesheim, the
+celebrated scholar, whose learning and mysterious researches after the
+philosopher's stone brought him, like many other wise men of the age,
+into suspicion of witchcraft. Agrippa had a pet dog, black, like the
+mystical companion of Dr. Faustus, and, in the eyes of a superstitious
+multitude, like him, the representative of the Evil One. Black dogs
+seem to have been everywhere considered as rather suspicious creatures.
+The Pope Sylvester II. had also a favorite black poodle, in whom the
+Devil was supposed to have taken up his abode. According to Wier,
+however, Agrippa's black dog was quite a harmless beast, and remarkable
+only for the childlike attachment which the great philosopher had for
+him. It may be worth remarking, that this writer, although he speaks of
+Faustus in his biography of Agrippa, makes no mention of his ever
+having been a friend or scholar of the latter.
+
+In several of the old stories of Faustus, we read that he had a cousin
+at Wittenberg, who took him as a boy to his house, brought him up, and
+made him his heir when he died. If this was true, it would be more
+probable that he was a native of Saxony than of Suabia. It is, however,
+more probable that this narrative rests on one of the numerous cases
+found in old writings in general, and above all in the history of
+Faustus, in which the names Wittenberg and Würtemberg are confounded.
+Our hero's abode at the former place was very probably merely that of a
+traveller; he left there, as we shall soon see, a very unenviable
+reputation. It is true that Saxony was the principal scene of the
+Doctor's achievements; but this very circumstance makes it improbable
+that he was born and brought up there, as it is well known that "a
+prophet hath no honor in his own country."
+
+Faust's studies were not confined to medicine and the physical
+sciences. He was also considered eminent as a philologist and
+philosopher. Physiology, however, with its various branches and
+degenerate offshoots, was the idol of the scholars of that age, and of
+Faustus among the rest. A passionate desire to fathom the mysteries of
+Nature, to dive into the most hidden recesses of moral and physical
+creation, had seized men of real learning, and seduced them into
+mingling absurd astrological and magical fancies with profound and
+scholarlike researches. The deepest thinkers of their time, like
+Nostradamus, Cardan, Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, Thomas Campanella,
+flattered themselves that they could enter, by means of art and
+science, into communion with good or evil spirits, on whose aid they
+depended for obtaining knowledge, fame, wealth, and worldly honors and
+enjoyments. Faustus was one of those whom a passion for inquiry, in
+league with a powerful, sensual nature, led astray. What had been
+originally an honest thirst for knowledge, a deep interest in the
+supernatural, became gradually a morbid craving after the miraculous,
+the pretension of having attained the unattainable, and the attempt to
+represent it by means of vulgar jugglery.
+
+Dr. Faustus seems at first to have settled as a practising physician,
+and at this period of his life Wagner appears as his _famulus_; for we
+never find this _Philister_ among scholars as a companion of the
+travelling Faustus, although his connection with him was apparently
+lasting. According to the popular legend, the Doctor made him his heir,
+and expressly obtained for him Auerhahn, (Heathcock,) a familiar spirit
+in the shape of a monkey. This was a sort of caricature of
+Mephistopheles, who became, through his ludicrous clumsiness, a
+pet-devil of the populace in the puppet-shows, particularly in Holland.
+Widmann calls Wagner _Waiger_; while in all other publications
+referring to him he bears his right name, Christoph Wagner.
+
+What city it was where Faustus lived before the reputation of
+witchcraft made him the subject of so much talk remains unsettled.
+Wittenberg and Ingolstadt are alternately named. Some of his
+biographers relate, that he led a loose and profligate life, and soon
+wasted his cousin's inheritance. Others represent him as a deep,
+secluded student, laying hold of one science after another, and
+unsatisfied by them all, until he found, by means of his physical and
+chemical experiments, the secret path to the supernatural, and, in
+order to reap their full fruits, allied himself with the hellish
+powers. Faustus himself tells us, in his "Mirakel-, Kunst-, und
+Wunder-buch," (or rather, the author of this book makes him tell us,)
+how his intercourse with the Devil commenced almost accidentally and
+against his intentions:--
+
+"I, Doctor Johann Faust, who apply myself to the Free Arts, having read
+many kinds of books from my youth, happened once to light upon a book
+that contained various conjurations of the spirits. Feeling some desire
+to enlarge my ideas on these things, having, indeed, at the beginning,
+small belief that the prescriptions of that book would so soon be
+verified, I tried them only for an experiment. Nevertheless, I became
+aware that a mighty spirit, named Astaroth, presented himself before
+me, and asked me wherefore I had cited him. Then, hurried as I was, I
+did not know how to make up my mind otherwise than to demand that he
+should be serviceable to me in various wishes and desires, which he
+promised _conditionale_, asking to make a compact with me. To do this I
+was at first not inclined; but as I was only provided with a bad
+_circle_, being merely experimenting, I did not dare to bid him
+defiance, but was obliged to yield to the circumstances. I therefore
+made up my mind, inasmuch as he would serve me, and would be bound to
+me a certain number of years. This being settled, this spirit presented
+to me another, named Mochiel, who was commanded to serve me. I asked
+him how quick he was. Answer: 'Like the wind.' 'Thou shalt not serve
+me! get thee back to whence thou camest!' Now came Aniguel; he
+answered, that he was as quick as the bird in the air. 'Thou art still
+too slow,' I replied; 'begone!' At the same moment a third stood before
+me, named Aziel; this one, too, I asked how quick he was. 'Quick as the
+thought of man.' 'Right for me! thee will I keep!' And I accepted him.
+This spirit has served me long, as has been made known by many
+writings."
+
+Whether it was this quick Aziel, or Astaroth himself, who became
+Faustus's travelling-companion under the name of Mephistopheles, or
+whether the prince of the lower regions in person condescended to play
+that part, we do not know; but in all popular stories of the Doctor,
+his servant bears the latter name,--while in the various books in
+which, under the name of _Hoellenzwang_, the system of his magic is
+laid down, he is called Aziel.
+
+In possession of such a power, Faustus soon became tired of his lonely
+study. He craved the world for his theatre. His travels seem in reality
+to have been very extensive, while in the popular stories a magic
+mantle carried him over the whole globe. Conrad Gesner, the great
+physiologist, who speaks of him with some respect as a physician,
+comparing him with Theophrastus Paracelsus, reckons him among the
+_scholastici vagantes_, or _fahrende Schueler_, an order of men already
+considerably in the decline, and grown disreputable at that period. As
+early as the thirteenth century, we find the custom in Germany, of
+young clergymen who did not belong to any monkish order travelling
+through the land to get a living,--here by instructing in schools for a
+certain period,--there by temporarily serving in churches as
+choristers, sacristans, or vicars,--often, too, as clerks and copyists
+to lawyers or other private men. When they could no longer find a
+livelihood at one place, they went to another. Their offices became, in
+course of time, of the most varied and unsuitable order. They were
+generally received and treated with hospitality, and this may have been
+one reason why all kinds of adventurers were ready to join them. Their
+unstable mode of life easily explains their frequenting the society of
+other vagabonds, who traversed the country as jugglers,
+treasure-diggers, quacks, or sorcerers, and that their clerical dignity
+did not prevent their occasionally adopting these professions
+themselves. The Chronicle of Limburg, in speaking of the Diet of
+Frankfurt in 1397, says: "The number of princes, counts, noblemen,
+knights, and esquires, that met there, amounted to five thousand one
+hundred and eighty-two"; adding: "Besides these, there were here four
+hundred and fifty persons more, such as _fahrende Schueler_, wrestlers,
+musicians, jumpers, and trumpeters." The character of the clergy having
+sunk so low, the Church declared itself against the custom, and at
+several German councils theological students were expressly forbidden
+to lead this roving life. It required, however, considerable time for
+the ancient custom to become extinct, and we learn, among others, from
+Conrad Gesner, that it still existed at the time of the Reformation.
+
+The part played by Faustus was at first in some degree respectable, and
+that of a scholar. An old Erfurt Chronicle tells us that he had come to
+that city and obtained permission from the university to deliver a
+course of lectures on Homer. A dark rumor of his magic powers had
+preceded him; the students, therefore, thronged to hear him, and,
+deeply interested, requested him to let them see the heroes of Homer by
+calling them from their graves. Faustus appointed another day for this,
+received the excited youths in a dark chamber, commanded them to be
+perfectly silent, and made the great men of the Greek bard rise up, one
+by one, before their eyes. At length Polyphemus appeared; and the
+one-eyed Cyclops, with his red hair, an iron spear in his hand, and, to
+designate him at once as a cannibal, two bloody human thighs in his
+mouth, looked so hideous, that the spectators were seized with horror
+and disgust, the more so that the wily magician professed to have some
+difficulty in dismissing the monster. Suddenly a violent shake of the
+whole house was felt; the young men were thrown one over another, and
+were seized with terror and dismay. Two of the students insisted upon
+having already felt the teeth of the Cyclops.--This ridiculous story
+was soon known throughout the city, and confirmed the suspicions of the
+Franciscan monks and magistrates, that the learned guest was in league
+with the Evil One. It is said that Faustus had previously offered to
+procure for them the manuscripts of the lost comedies of Terence and
+Plautus, and to leave them for a short time in their hands, to be
+copied,--but that the fathers of the city and of the university
+declined, because they believed this could be done only by sorcery, or
+with the help of Satan. Now they sent to him the Guardian of the
+Convent, Dr. Klinger, in order to convert him and to have masses read
+for him, for the purpose of delivering him from his hellish connection.
+But Faustus opposed, was by the clergy solemnly delivered to the Devil,
+and, in consequence, banished from the city by the magistrates.
+
+We do not know whether it was for similar juggleries, that, when at
+Wittenberg, the Elector John the Steadfast ordered him to be arrested,
+as Manlius relates. He saved himself by flight. Melancthon, in one of
+his letters, mentions having made his acquaintance; the whole tone of
+the allusion, however, expresses contempt.
+
+The character of the miracles he performed soon ceased to have the
+literary tincture of the one related above, and they became mere vulgar
+juggleries and exhibitions of legerdemain, suited to the taste of the
+multitude. Scholars turned their backs on him, and we find him only
+among tipplers and associates of the lowest kind. At one of their
+carousals his half-intoxicated companions asked him for a specimen of
+his witchcraft. He declared himself willing to gratify them in any
+request. They then demanded that he should make a grape-vine full of
+ripe fruit grow out of the table around which they sat. Faustus
+enjoined complete silence, ordered them to take their knives and keep
+themselves in readiness for cutting the fruit, but not to stir before
+he gave them leave. And, behold, before the eyes of the gaping youths,
+while they themselves were enveloped in a magic mist, there arose a
+great vine, with as many bunches of grapes as there were persons in the
+room. Suddenly the obscuring mist dissolved, and each one saw the
+others with their hands at their own noses, ready to cut them off, as
+the promised grapes. But the vine and the magician had disappeared, and
+the disenchanted drunkards were left to their own rage.
+
+The reader will be aware that this is the tale of which Goethe availed
+himself in representing Faustus's visit to Auerbach's cellar at
+Leipzig. Whether it really occurred there is not stated; but that
+Faustus was said to have been at Leipzig, and even in Auerbach's
+cellar, is an historical fact, attested by two pictures still extant at
+this famous old tavern, where many of our curious American travellers
+may have seen them. These pictures, which have been retouched and
+renovated more than once,--last in 1759,--are marked at the top with
+the date 1525. Whether this means the year in which they were painted,
+or that in which Faustus performed the great feat which the scene
+represents, remains uncertain. As it occurred in the beginning of his
+career, upon which we may assume him to have entered somewhere between
+1520 and 1525, the date is quite likely to refer to the time of the
+feat; but, to judge from the costumes and several other signs, the
+pictures cannot have been painted much later. They were evidently made
+expressly for the locality, sloping off on both sides at the top, to
+suit the shape of the vault. The German inscription at the foot of one
+of the pictures indicates that it was written after the Doctor's death,
+which must have occurred between 1540 and 1550; but it is probable that
+these verses were added at a later time, the more so as the traces of
+an older inscription, now no longer legible, may still be discovered.
+One of these curious paintings represents Faustus in company with
+students and musicians sitting around a table covered with dishes and
+bottles. Faustus is lifting his goblet with one hand, and with the
+other beating time on the table to the music. At the bottom we read the
+following verse in barbarous Latin:--
+
+  "Vive. Bibe. Obgregare. Memor Fausti hujus, et hujus
+  Poenae. Aderat claudo haec. Ast erat ampla
+       Gradu. 1525."[4]
+
+The other picture shows us the same jolly party risen from table, and
+all expressing their wonder and astonishment, as Dr. Faustus is just
+riding out of the door on a wine-tub. Beneath it is the following
+inscription in German:--
+
+  "Dr. Faustus zu dieser Frist
+  Aus Auerbach's Keller geritten ist,
+  Auf einem Fass mit Wein geschwind,
+  Welches gesehn manch Mutterkind.
+  Solches durch seine subtilne Kunst hat gethan,
+  Und des Teufels Lohn empfangen davon.
+  1525."[5]
+
+On neither of the two pictures does Mephistopheles appear, unless he is
+meant to be represented in the shape of the black dog. It is not,
+however, Goethe's poodle that meets us here, but a sleek little
+creature with a collar around his neck, looking very much like a wooden
+toy-dog.
+
+Most of the tricks and pranks reported of Dr. Faustus are of the same
+absurd kind, though not all of so harmless a character. According to
+the popular legend, he travelled like a great lord, had the spirits
+pave the highways for him when he rode in the post-coach,--it seems,
+then, that he did not always use his mantle,--and lived in the taverns
+at which he stopped with an unheard-of luxury. On his departure, he
+paid the hosts in a princely manner; but scarcely was he out of sight,
+when the gold in the receiver's hand was changed to straw, or to round
+slices of gilded horn,--a shabby trick indeed, as he could have as much
+money as he liked.
+
+How much we have to believe of all these popular stories we may learn
+from Dr. Phil. Begardi's "Zeyger der Gesundtheyt," (Guide to Health,) a
+book published in 1539, at Worms, at a time when Faustus seems to have
+already disappeared from Germany, after having lost caste there
+completely, and when he was trying his fortune in other countries.
+
+"There is still another famous man," says Begardi, "whose name I would
+rather not mention at all, only that he himself would not wish to
+remain hidden or unknown. For he was roving, _some years ago_, through
+all the different countries, principalities, and kingdoms, and has made
+known his name and his great skill, boasting not only of his medical
+science, but likewise of Chiromancy, Necromancy, Physiognomy, Visions
+in Crystals, and more arts of the kind. And he called himself Faustus,
+a celebrated experienced master, _philosophum philosophorum_, etc. But
+the number of those who have complained to me of having been cheated by
+him is very great. Well, his promises were likewise very great, just
+like those of Thessalus, (in Galen's time,) and his reputation like
+that of Theophrastus; but in deeds he was, I hear, found small and
+deceitful. But in taking and receiving money he was never slow, and was
+off before any one knew it."
+
+Thus we see the historical Faustus, the esteemed scholar, the skilful
+physician, gradually merged in the juggler, the quack, the adventurer,
+and the impostor. The popular legend follows him to foreign countries.
+His magic mantle carries him, in eight days, over the whole world, and
+even into the Infernal regions. He is honorably received at the
+Emperor's court at Innspruck, introduces himself invisibly at Rome,
+into the Vatican, where the Pope and his cardinals are assembled at a
+banquet, snatches away his Holiness's plate and cup from before his
+mouth, and, enraged at his crossing himself, boxes his ears. In the
+puppet-shows he figures mostly at the court of the Duke of Parma. In
+Venice his daring spirit presumed too far. He announced an exhibition
+of a flight to heaven. But Mephistopheles, who had hitherto satisfied
+his most extravagant demands, though often with grumbling, would not
+permit _that_ feat. In the midst of a staring, wondering multitude,
+Faustus rose to a certain height by means of his own Satanic skill,
+acquired in his long intercourse with the Devil. But now the latter
+showed that he was still his master. He suddenly hurled him from on
+high, and he fell half dead upon the ground. The twenty-four years of
+the compact, however, were not yet ended, and he was therefore restored
+to life by the same hellish power.
+
+In a very trite, popular ballad, which we find in "Des Knaben
+Wunderhorn," we see, that, when the travellers came to Jerusalem, the
+Devil declined still another request. Faustus wishes him to make a
+picture of Christ crucified, and to write under it his holy name. But
+the Devil declared that he would rather give him back his signature
+than be obliged to do _such_ a thing, and succeeded in turning the
+Doctor's mind from the subject by showing him, instead, a picture of
+Venus.
+
+Popular imagination seems to have been inexhaustible in stories of this
+kind. But, after the twenty-four years of vile enjoyments, the hour of
+retribution came at last. According to our scanty historical notices,
+Faustus died an unnatural death: he was found dead in his bed, at his
+birthplace, Kundlingen, with his neck twisted. How such a death must
+have confirmed all the superstitious rumors about him the reader will
+easily conceive. But, according to the popular legend, his end was
+still more terrible. He seems to have returned to his own country, and
+scholars, worthy young men, surround him once more, and become much
+attached to him. From this one would suppose him to have been at
+Wittenberg, or Ingoldstadt, or any university city, but, instead of
+this, we find him in a little Saxon village, called Rimlich. The
+twenty-fourth year draws to its close. At last, at the eleventh hour,
+Faustus bethinks himself to repent; but it is too late. His end,
+related in the simple language of the Volksbuch, is truly awful. He
+dismisses his sympathizing friends, bidding them not to be disturbed by
+any noises in the night. At midnight a terrible storm arises; it
+reaches its height amid thunder and lightning. The friends hear a
+fearful shriek. They rise and pray. But when, in the morning, they
+enter his room, they are horror-struck at seeing his limbs scattered
+round, and the walls, against which the fiend had dashed him to pieces,
+covered with his blood. His body was found in the court-yard on a
+dung-hill.
+
+The horror of this end made a peculiarly awful impression on the
+popular mind. During the Thirty Years' War, it once happened that a
+troop of Catholic soldiers broke into a village in Saxony, on the Elbe,
+named Breda. They were just about to plunder one of the principal
+houses, when the judge of the place, who, it seems, was a shrewd man,
+stepped out and told them that this village was the one where Dr.
+Faustus was carried off by the Devil, and that in this very house the
+blood of the Doctor was still to be seen on the walls. The soldiers
+were seized with terror, and left the village.
+
+The story of Faustus's adventurous life and shocking death, with its
+impressive lessons, appears at first to have been kept extant only by
+oral tradition. Nearly forty years passed before it was written down
+and printed. But then, indeed, the book was received with so much
+favor, that not only several new and enlarged editions appeared in a
+short time, but many similar works were published soon after, which,
+though founded on the oldest Volksbuch (of 1588) and Widmann's
+"Histories," were yet abundant in new facts and inventions. And that
+not to the illiterate classes alone was the subject interesting is
+proved by the circumstance that a Latin version of the first Volksbuch
+was advertised, and (probably) appeared. On the title-pages of all
+these books it is expressly stated that they were written as a warning
+to, and for the edification of, Christian readers. In 1712, a book was
+published at Berlin, under the title, "Zauberkünste und Leben Dr.
+Fausti," (The Magic Arts and Life of Dr. Faust,) as the author of which
+Christoph Wagner was named. Wagner himself became the subject of a
+biographical work.
+
+Of still greater effect was Faustus's history on the stage. Through the
+whole of the seventeenth, as well as the first half of the eighteenth
+century, it remained one of the favorite subjects of puppet-shows,
+popular melodramas, exhibitions of _ombres chinoises_, and pantomimes.
+The more the awful event, with its moral lessons, receded into the
+background of time, the more it lost its serious and impressive
+character, until it became a mere burlesque, and _Hanswurst_ and
+_Casperle_ its principal figures.
+
+The "Historie" had scarcely appeared, when it was translated into
+Dutch, and the later publication of other similar works did not prevent
+the demand for several new editions. These Dutch books were
+illustrated, as were also the _newer_ German ones. Only a little later,
+two French versions were published, one of which was even reprinted at
+Paris as late as 1712.
+
+In Holland, our hero excited no small interest even among the artists.
+There are extant several portraits of Faustus painted by Rembrandt,--
+whether ideal, or copied from older pictures, is not known. Another
+Dutch painter, Christoph von Sichem, represented two scenes from the
+life of the celebrated magician; and of these productions engravings
+still exist. On the one, we see Faustus and Mephistopheles,--the
+latter dressed like a monk, as, according to the popular tales,
+he mostly appeared. On the other, Wagner and Auerhahn, (or Auerhain,)
+--the latter in the shape of a monkey. There is a striking contrast
+between Faustus and Wagner. The first is a well-dressed man, in
+deep meditation; globes and instruments of science surround him;--
+the other the impersonation of vulgarity. Various scenes from
+Faustus's life adorn the walls. Christoph von Sichem was born in
+1580, and flourished at Amsterdam during the first quarter of the
+seventeenth century. These pictures were consequently made when the
+whole interest of the public for Faustus and his companions was still
+fresh.
+
+Some books seem to have been published by Faustus during his
+lifetime,--at least, his biographers allude to them; but it was only
+after his death that the work which gave his name its chief reputation
+became known. This was his peculiar System of Magic, called "Faust's
+Hoellenzwang" (Compulsion of Hell). Wagner, who was said to be his
+heir, published it first under the title of "Dr. Johannis Faust's
+_Magia Celeberrima_, und _Tabula Nigra_, oder _Hoellenzwang_." It
+contained all the different forms of conjuration, as well for the
+citation as for the dismissal of spirits. There are, besides this,
+several other similar works extant, such as his "Schwarzer
+Mohrenstern," "Der schwarze Rabe," the "Mirakel-, Kunst-, und
+Wunder-buch," already mentioned, and several more, containing about the
+same matter, and most of them written in his name. Of all these
+productions only manuscripts are known to remain, although they are all
+professedly copies of printed works. The most singular thing is, that,
+while they are represented as having been published after the
+magician's death, some of them are, nevertheless, marked with dates as
+early as 1509, 1510, and 1511,--and with the names of Lion, (Lyons,)
+London, etc., as the places where they were printed. These
+circumstances make their authenticity very doubtful, even if we allow
+for mistakes made by the copyists.
+
+Although so large a part of Faustus's life was, according to the
+popular legend, spent in Italy, we are not aware that this legend was
+ever current among the Italian people. Some unfortunate attempts have
+been made to engraft the story of Don Giovanni upon this German stock,
+but, as it seems to us, by very arbitrary arguments and conclusions.
+The career of a mere rake, who shuns no means of gratifying his low
+appetites, has little analogy with that of an originally honest
+inquirer, led astray by the want of faith and his sensual nature. The
+only resemblance is in the end. There was at first more apparent
+success in the endeavor to transplant the tale to Spain, where
+Calderon's "Magico Prodigioso" was taken by some critics for a
+representation of it. The foundation of Calderon's drama, as mentioned
+before, is rather the legend of St. Cyprianus. More may be said in
+favor of the radical identity of the stories of Faustus with some
+popular legends of the Poles, referring to a necromancer called
+Twardowski. But Polish scholars will not admit this; at least, they
+object to giving up their great magician, and some attempts have even
+been made from that side to prove that theirs is the original whom the
+Germans appropriated under the name of _Faust_.
+
+The most interesting result of the publication of the Volksbuch
+appeared in England, where it fell, for the first, and in a hundred and
+fifty years the only time, into the hands of a poet. Mr. Collier, in
+his "History of English Dramatic Poetry," says,--"In 1588, a ballad of
+the Life and Death of Dr. Faustus was licensed to be printed"; and
+adds,--"This would, according to the language of the time, have meant
+any composition in verse, even the play," (of Marlowe,) and
+subsequently mentions the same circumstance with reference to "the old
+romance of Dr. Faustus." On this, Mr. A. Dyce (Works of Christopher
+Marlowe, 1850, I. p. xvi., note) remarks,--"When Mr. Collier states
+that the old romance of Faustus was entered into the Stationers' books
+in 1588, (according to a note on Henslowe's Diary, p. 42,) he meant, I
+apprehend, the old _ballad_." If we bear in mind that the first German
+History of Dr. Faustus did not appear before the same year, we should
+also conclude that he must have meant the ballad, as a translation
+could hardly have been made in so short a time. But considering, on the
+other hand, that the tragedy, which cannot have been composed later
+than 1589 or 1590, (as the poet, who was murdered in 1593, wrote
+several pieces after the one in question,) is evidently and without the
+least doubt founded on the Volksbuch, often adopting the very language
+of its English version, we must conclude that a translation of the
+German work was made immediately after its appearance, or possibly even
+from the manuscript,--which Spiess, the German editor, professes to
+have obtained from Spires. Although the word "ballad" was not properly
+employed for prose romances, it may have been thus used in Henslowe's
+Diary by mistake. We are not aware that any _old_ English version of
+this "History of Dr. Faustus" is now extant; that from which Mr. Dyce
+quotes is of 1648. Marlowe's tragedy was first entered in the
+Stationers' books in 1600-1, but brought upon the stage many years
+before. In 1597, it had already been played so often that additions
+were required. Philips, who wrote about fifty years later, remarks,
+that, "of all that Marlowe hath written to the stage, his 'Dr. Faustus'
+has made the greatest noise with its devils and such-like tragical
+sport." In course of time it was "made into a farce, with the Humors of
+Harlequin and Scaramouch," and represented through the whole kingdom,
+like similar compositions, with immense applause.
+
+Marlowe's "Faustus" has been judged rather favorably by modern English
+critics. Mr. Hazlitt calls it, "though an imperfect and unequal
+performance, Marlowe's greatest work." Mr. Hallam remarks,--"There is an
+awful melancholy about Marlowe's Mephistopheles, perhaps more
+impressive than the malignant mirth of that fiend in the renowned work
+of Goethe." Charles Lamb even preferred Marlowe's "Faustus," as a
+whole, to the latter! Mr. Collier calls it "a drama of power, novelty,
+interest, and variety." So, indeed, it is; but all that power,
+interest, novelty, and variety do not belong to Marlowe, but to the
+prose romance, after which he wrote. Indeed, he followed it so
+closely,--as every reader can see for himself, by reading the play in
+Dyce's edition, and comparing it with the notes under the text,--that
+sometimes whole scenes are copied, and even whole speeches, as, for
+instance, that of the Emperor Charles V. The coarse buffoonery, in
+particular, of which the work is full, is retained word for word. Of
+the countless absurdities and prolixities of the Volksbuch, Marlowe
+has, of course, omitted a great deal, and condensed the story to the
+tenth part of its original length; but the fundamental idea, the plot,
+and the characters, belong exclusively to the original. Marlowe's
+poetical merit lies partly in the circumstance that he was the first to
+feel the depth and power of that idea, partly in the thoughts and
+pictures with which some speeches, principally the monologues of
+Faustus himself, are interwoven. The Faustus of Marlowe is the Faust of
+the legend, tired of learning because it is so unproductive, and
+selling his soul, not for knowledge, but for wealth and power. His
+investigating conversations with Mephistopheles, his inquiries, and the
+answers of the latter, are almost as shallow and childish as those in
+the People's Book; and Faustus himself remarks, on the information
+which his companion gives him,--
+
+  "Those slender trifles Wagner could decide;
+  Has Mephistopheles no greater skill?"
+
+This latter, indeed, seems to us, in spite of the admiration of English
+critics, a decided failure. There is in him no trace of either the
+cruel, icy-cold malignity of the fiend of Goethe, or the awful grandeur
+of Milton's Tempter. It cannot be said that Marlowe's Devil seduces
+Faustus. He is almost on the verge of repentance himself; of the two,
+he is decidedly the better Christian. The proposition of the compact
+comes from Faustus himself, and Mephistopheles only accepts it.
+Marlowe's Faustus knows nothing of the feeling of aversion and disgust
+with which Goethe's Faust sees himself bound to his hellish companion;
+he calls him, repeatedly, "sweet Mephistopheles," and declares,--
+
+  "Had I as many souls as there be stars,
+  I'd give them all for Mephistopheles."
+
+Mr. Hallam, in comparing Marlowe's production with Goethe's,
+remarks,--"The fair form of Margaret is wanting." As if this were all
+that was wanting! Margaret belonged, indeed, exclusively to Goethe. But
+Helena, the favorite ideal of beauty of all old writers, is introduced
+in the popular tale, and so, too, in Marlowe. Faustus conjures up her
+spirit at the request of the students. Her beauty is described with
+glowing colors; "it would," says the old romance, "nearly have enflamed
+the students, but that they persuaded themselves she was a spirit,
+which made them lightly passe away such fancies." Not so Faustus;
+although he is already in the twenty-third year of his compact, he
+himself falls in love with the spirit, and keeps her with him until his
+end. In all this, Marlowe follows closely; though he has good taste
+enough to suppress the figure of the little Justus Faustus, who was the
+fruit of this union.
+
+It now only remains to us to consider the way in which modern poets
+have apprehended the idea of the Faust-fable. None of the German dramas
+and operas which the seventeenth century produced, though they never
+failed to draw large audiences, could be compared, in poetical value,
+to Marlowe's tragedy. The German stage of that period was of very low
+standing, and the few poets who wrote for it, as, for instance,
+Lohenstein, preferred foreign subjects,--the more remote in space and
+time, the better. The writers of neither the first nor the second
+Silesian school were exactly the men to appreciate the depth of a
+legend like that of Faustus,--still less the watery poets of the
+beginning of the eighteenth century. Lessing, who, with his sharp,
+sound criticism, and his clear perception of the beautiful, led the way
+to a higher state of things in literature, appears also to have been
+the first to discover the deep meaning buried in the popular farces of
+Faustus. He pronounced it worthy the genius of a Shakspeare, and
+himself attempted to make it the subject of a tragedy. How much it
+occupied his mind we may conclude from the circumstance that he seems
+to have made for it two plans, essentially different from each other.
+We can only regret that they were never executed. Although Lessing was
+not a poetical genius like Goethe, the power and acuteness of his mind
+were so eminent, the force of his critical faculties was so
+penetrating, that his treatment of a subject of so much depth and
+intrinsic poetry would have been of the highest interest. This
+expectation is also justified by the few sketches of single scenes
+which are all that remain of his plans. One of the latter is, indeed,
+also in so far remarkable, as we see from it that Lessing's mind
+inclined to the modern view, according to which Faustus ought to be and
+would be finally saved. One of the devils describes him, before
+temptation, as "a solitary, thinking youth, entirely devoted to
+wisdom,--living, breathing, only for wisdom and knowledge,--renouncing
+every passion but the one for truth,--highly dangerous to thee [Satan]
+and to us all, if he were ever to be a teacher of the people." Satan
+resolves at once to seduce and destroy him. But Faustus's good angel
+has mercy on him. He buries him in a deep sleep, and creates in his
+place a phantom, with which the cheated devils try successfully the
+whole process of temptation and seduction. All this appears to Faustus
+in a dream. He awakes; the Devil discovers his error, and flies with
+shame and fury, and Faustus, thanking Providence for its warning,
+clings to truth and virtue more firmly than ever.
+
+The other plan, to judge from the fragment we possess, is less
+fanciful, and seems to follow more closely the popular tradition,
+according to which the temptations of Faustus were by no means
+external, but lay deep in his individual mind. In one of its
+lightly-sketched scenes, the poet has evidently availed himself of the
+one from the Miracle-Book heretofore mentioned, and, indeed, with a
+great deal of force. Faustus, impatient and annoyed at the slow process
+of human action, desires the quickest servant from hell, and
+successively cites seven spirits. One after another he rejects. The
+arrows of the plague, the wings of the winds, the beams of light, are
+all not quick enough for him. The fifth spirit rises:--
+
+"_Faustus_. How quick art thou?
+
+"_Fifth Spirit_. As quick as the thoughts of men.
+
+"_Faustus_. That is something!--But the thoughts of men are not always
+quick. They are slothful when truth and virtue demand them. Thou canst
+be quick, if thou wilt. But who will warrant me thy being always
+quick?--No, I trust thee as little as I ought to have trusted
+myself.--Ah!--(to the sixth spirit.) Now tell me how quick thou art!
+
+"_Sixth Spirit_. As quick as the vengeance of the Avenger.
+
+"_Faustus_. Of the Avenger? Of what Avenger?
+
+"_Sixth Spirit_. Of the All-powerful, the Terrible, who has kept
+vengeance for himself alone, because vengeance is his delight.
+
+"_Faustus_. Devil, thou blasphemest, for I see thou art
+trembling!--Quick, thou sayest, as the vengeance of----no! he may not
+be named among us! Quick, thou sayest, is his vengeance? Quick? And I
+still live? And I still sin?
+
+"_Sixth Spirit_. That he suffereth thee still to sin is the beginning
+of his vengeance.
+
+"_Faustus_. Oh that a Devil should teach me this!--But no, his
+vengeance is not quick; if thou art no quicker, begone!--(To the
+seventh spirit.) How quick art thou?
+
+"_Seventh Spirit_. Unsatisfiable (_unzuvergnuegender_) mortal! If I,
+too, am not quick enough for thee------
+
+"_Faustus_. Tell me, then, how quick?
+
+"_Seventh Spirit_. No more nor less than the transition from Good to
+Evil.
+
+"_Faustus_. Ha! thou art my devil! Quick as the transition from Good to
+Evil!--Yes, that is quick! Nothing is quicker!--Away from here, ye
+horrors of Orcus! Away!--Quick as the transition from Good to Evil!--I
+have learned how quick that is! I know it!"
+
+Lessing had this fragment printed in the "Literaturbriefe," professedly
+as a specimen of one of the old popular dramas, despised at that time
+by the higher classes, though Lessing remarks,--"How fond was Germany
+once of its Dr. Faustus,--and is so, partly, still!" But even this bold
+reformer of German taste seems not to have had the temerity to come
+forward at once as the author of a conception so entirely contrary to
+the reigning rules and the Frenchified taste by which, at the period of
+the "Literaturbriefe," (1759-1763,) Germany was still subjugated.
+
+We do not know whether some of the young poets who took hold of the
+subject a short time after were instigated by this fragment of
+Lessing's, or whether they were moved by the awakening German Genius,
+who, just at that period, was beginning to return to his national
+sources for the quenching of his thirst. Between 1770 and 1780, Lenz
+and Maler Müller composed, the former his "Hoellenrichter," the latter
+his dramatized Life of Dr. Faustus. No more appropriate hero could have
+been found for the young "Kraft-Genies" of the "Sturm und Drang
+Periode" (Storm and Stress period) of German literature. Schreiber,
+Soden, Klinger, Schink, followed them, the last-named with several
+productions referring to the subject. In 1786, Goethe communicated to
+the world, for the first time, a fragment of that astonishing dramatic
+poem which has since been acknowledged, by the whole literary public,
+as his masterpiece, and the most remarkable monument of his great
+genius.[6] The whole first part of the tragedy, still under the name of
+a fragment, was not published before 1808. Since then Germany may be
+said to have been inundated by "Fausts" in every possible shape. Dramas
+by Nic. Voigt, K. Schoene, Benkowitz,--operas by Adolph Bäurle, J. von
+Voss, Bernard, (with music by Spohr,)--tales in verse and prose by
+Kamarack, Seybold, Gerle, and L. Bechstein,--and besides these, the
+productions of various anonymous writers, followed close upon each
+other in the course of the next twenty years. Chamisso's tragedy of
+"Faustus," "in one actus," in truth only a fragment, had already
+appeared in the "Musenalmanach" of 1804.
+
+To Goethe the legendary literature of his nation had been familiar from
+his boyhood. Very early in life, and several years before the
+publication of Maler Müller's spirited drama, his mind was powerfully
+impressed by the Faust-fable, and the greater part of the present
+fragmentary poem was already written and ready for print when Müller's
+first sketch, under the title, "Situations in the Life of Dr. Faustus,"
+appeared (1776). As the entire poetry of Goethe was more or less
+_autobiographical_,--that is, as all his poetical productions reflect,
+to a certain extent, his own personal sensations, trials, and
+experiences,--he fused himself and his inner life into the mould of
+Faustus, with all his craving for knowledge, his passionate love of
+Nature, his unsatisfied longings and powerful temptations, adhering
+closely in all external action to the popular story, though of course
+in a symbolic spirit Goethe had, as he tells us himself, a happy
+faculty of delivering himself by poetical production, as well of all
+the partly imaginary, partly morbid cares and doubts which troubled his
+mind, as of the real and acute sufferings which tormented him, for a
+certain period, even to agony. Love, doubt, sorrow, passion,
+remorse--all found an egress from his soul into a poem, a novel, a
+parable, a dramatic character, or some other form of poetical
+expression. He felt as if eased of a burden, after having thus given
+his feelings body and shape. Thus his works became his history.
+"Faust," in its two parts, is the production of his lifetime. Conceived
+in early youth, worked out in manhood, completed in old age, it became
+a vehicle for all the various commotions of his existence. There is no
+other poem which contains such a diversity of thought and feeling, such
+a variety of sentences, pictures, scenes, and situations. For enlarging
+on the poetical value of this incomparable work this is not the place.
+Closely as Goethe has followed up the popular legend, it is
+emphatically and entirely his own production, because it contains his
+complete self.
+
+Nearly a quarter of a century passed before this extraordinary poem was
+followed by its second part. It is not difficult to trace in this
+continuation, published only after the death of the aged poet, the few
+scenes which may have been composed contemporarily with or soon after
+the first part; but that the whole is conceived and executed in a
+totally different spirit not even the most unconditional admirers of
+Goethe's genius will deny. There is no doubt that he regarded his
+"Faust" only as a beginning, and always contemplated a continuation.
+The _rôle_ of Dr. Faustus, the popular magician, was only half-played.
+Its most brilliant part, his intercourse with the great of the earth
+and the heroes of the past, had not yet commenced. But as, in the
+course of advancing life, the poet's views and ideas changed, the
+mirror of his soul reflected an altered world to him; and as the second
+part of "Faust" is hardly less an image of himself than the first, it
+is not unnatural that it is as different from the latter as the Goethe
+the septuagenarian was from Goethe the youth.
+
+Meanwhile the _literati_ of Germany became exceedingly impatient for
+the promised second part; and when the master lingered, and did not
+himself come forth with the solution of the mystery, the disciples
+attempted to supply him as well as they could. C.C.L. Schoene and J.D.
+Hoffmann had both the requisite courage for such an undertaking; and
+the first even sent his production, with perfect _naïveté_, to the
+great master, as the second part of his own work. C. Rosenkranz and
+Gustav Pfitzer--two very honorable names--also wrote after-plays.
+
+We must confess that we have never felt any desire to see "Faust"
+continued. It ought to have remained a fragment. Its last scene,
+perhaps, surpasses, in sublimity and heart-rending power, anything ever
+written. No light of this world can ever entirely clear up the sacred
+mystery of the Beyond, but that scene gives us a surety for the
+salvation of Margaret, and _hope_ for Faust, to every one who has not
+forgotten the words of the Lord in the second Prologue:--
+
+  "Draw down this spirit from its source,
+  And, _canst thou catch him_, to perdition
+  Carry him with thee in thy course;
+  But stand abashed, if thou must needs confess
+  That a good man, though passion blur his vision,
+  Has of the right way still a consciousness."[7]
+
+By the appearance of the second part of "Faust" the magic spell was
+completely broken. No work of Art of a more chilling, disenchanting
+character was ever produced. For the striking individuality of the
+first part, we have here nothing but abstractions; for its deep poetry,
+symbolism; for its glow and thrilling pathos, a plastic finish, hard
+and cold as marble; for its psychological truth, a bewildering
+mysticism. All the fine thoughts and reflections, and all the abundance
+of poetical passages, scattered like jewels through the thick mist of
+the whole work, cannot compensate for its total want of interest; and
+we doubt whether many readers have ever worked their way through its
+innumerable obscure sayings and mystical allegories without feeling
+something of the truth of Voltaire's remark: "_Tout genre est permis
+hors le genre ennuyeux_."
+
+The impression which the first part of "Faust," the poetical
+masterpiece of German literature, made among foreigners, was, though in
+some instances ultimately powerful, yet on the whole surprisingly slow.
+While the popular legend, in its coarsest shape, had, in its time,
+spread with the rapidity of a running fire through all countries, the
+great German poet's conception of it, two hundred years later, found no
+responding echo in either French or English bosoms. Here and there some
+eccentric genius may have taken it up, as, for instance, Monk Lewis,
+who, in 1816, communicated the fundamental idea to Lord Byron, reading
+and translating it to him _vivâ vocé_, and suggesting to him, in this
+indirect way, the idea of his "Manfred." But even the more profound
+among the few German scholars then extant in England did not understand
+"Faust," and were inclined to condemn it,--as, for instance, Coleridge,
+who, as we see from his "Table-Talk," misconceived the whole idea of
+the poem, and found fault with the execution, because it was different
+from what he fancied he himself would have made of this legend, had he
+taken it in hand. The first English translation was published in the
+same year as the first French version, that is, in 1825; both were
+exceedingly imperfect. Since then several other translations in prose
+and verse have appeared in both languages, especially in
+English,--though the "twenty or thirty metrical ones" of which Mr. C.T.
+Brooks speaks in his preface are probably to be taken as a mere mode of
+speech,--and lately one by this gentleman himself, in our very midst.
+This latter comes, perhaps, as near to perfection as it is possible for
+the reproduction of all idiomatic poetical composition in another
+language to do. All this indicates that the time for the just
+appreciation of German literature in general and of Goethe in
+particular is drawing near at last; that its influence has for some
+time been felt is proved, among other things, by that paraphrastic
+imitation of "Faust," Bailey's "Festus."
+
+That a poem like "Faust" could not at first be generally understood is
+not unnatural. Various interpretations of its seeming riddles have been
+attempted; and if the volumes of German "Goethe-Literature" are
+numerous enough to form a small library, those of the "Faust-
+Literature" may be computed to form the fourth part of it. To
+the English reader we cannot recommend highly enough, for the full
+comprehension of "Faust," the commentary on this poem which Mr. Lewes
+gives in his "Life of Goethe," as perhaps the most excellent portion of
+that excellent work. Goethe himself has given many a hint on his own
+conception, and as to how far it was the reflex of his own soul. "The
+puppet-show-fable of 'Faust,'" he says, "murmured with many voices in
+my soul. I, too, had wandered into every department of knowledge, and
+had returned disgusted, and convinced of the vanity of science. And
+life, too, I had tried under various aspects, and had always come back
+sorrowing and unsatisfied." "Faust's character," he says in another
+place, "at the height to which the modern elaboration (_Ausbildung_) of
+the old, crude, popular tale has raised it, represents a man, who,
+feeling impatient and uncomfortable within the general limits of earth,
+esteems the possession of the highest knowledge, the enjoyment of the
+fairest worldly goods, inadequate to satisfy his longings even in the
+least degree, a mind which, turning to every side in search of this
+satisfaction, ever recedes into itself with increased unhappiness."--He
+remarks, too, that "the approbation which this poem has met with, far
+and near, may be owing to the rare peculiarity, that it fixes
+permanently the developing process of a human mind, which by everything
+that torments humanity is also pained, by all that troubles it is also
+agitated, by what it condemns is likewise enthralled, and by what it
+desires is also made happy."[8]
+
+If this article were devoted to Goethe's "Faust," instead of the
+popular legend of Faustus, of which the former is only the most eminent
+apprehension, it would be easy to add to these reasons for the
+universal "approbation" which it has won still others, founded on the
+great genius of the poet. This, however, would by far exceed our
+limits.
+
+[Footnote 1: Some regard Sabellicus and Faustus Socinus as one and the
+same person.]
+
+[Footnote 2: _Historie von D. Johann Fausten, aan weltbeschreyten
+Zauberer und Schwarzkünstler_, etc. Frankfurt a. M. 1588.]
+
+[Footnote 3: _Wahrhaftige Historien von den greulichen und
+abscheulichen Sünden und Lastern, etc., so D. Johannes Faustus, etc.,
+bis an sein schreckliches End hat getrieben, etc._, erklärt durch Georg
+Rudolf Widmann. Hamburg, 1599.]
+
+[Footnote 4: Live, drink, and be merry, remembering this Faust and his
+punishment. It came slowly, but was in ample measure. 1525.]
+
+[Footnote 5: Dr. Faustus on this day From Auerbach's cellar rode away,
+Of a barrel of wine astride, Which many mothers'-children eyed; This
+through his subtle art achieved, And for it the Devil's reward
+received. 1525.]
+
+[Footnote 6: It first appeared in the fourth volume of his Works.
+Leipzig. Goeschen. 1786.]
+
+[Footnote 7: Mr. Brooks's translation.]
+
+[Footnote 8: _Kunst und Alterthum_. B. VI. Heft I., II.]
+
+
+
+MISS WIMPLE'S HOOP.
+
+
+"Believe in God and yourself, and do the best you can."
+
+In Hendrik on the Hudson, fifty miles from New York, there was, winter
+before last, a certain "patent seamless."--
+
+But a hooped skirt with a history, touching and teaching, is no theme
+for flippancy; so, by your leave, I will unwind my story tenderly, and
+with reverential regard for its smooth turns of sequence.
+
+The Wimples, of whom Sally is the last, were among the oldest and most
+respectable of Hendrik families. Sally's father, Mr. Paul Wimple, had
+been a publisher in good standing, and formerly did a flourishing
+business in New York; but seven years ago he failed, and so, quite
+penniless, his health sadly broken, his cheerfulness and energy all
+gone with his fortunes, without heart for any new beginning, he
+returned to Hendrik, his native place.
+
+There, the friends of his youth, steadfast and generous, pitying his
+sad plight, and having perfect faith in his unimpeached integrity,
+purchased--principally at the sale in bankruptcy of his own effects--a
+modest stock of new and second-hand books and magazines, together with
+some stationery and a few fancy articles in that line, and
+reestablished him in the humble but peaceful calling of a country
+bookseller. They called his shop "The Hendrik Athenaeum and Circulating
+Library," and all the county subscribed; for, at first, the Wimples
+were the fashionable charity, "the Wimples were always so very
+respectable, you know," and Sally was such a sweet girl that really it
+was quite an interesting case. Mrs. Splurge forthwith began improving
+the minds of her girls to the extent of three full annual subscriptions
+for Josephine, Adelaide, and Madeline respectively; and that triplet of
+fair students, who, separately or conjointly, were at all times
+competent to the establishment of a precedent for the graceful
+charities of Hendrik good society, handsomely led off with a ten-dollar
+investment in "fountain" pens, "cream-laid assembly note,"
+motto-wafers, Blessington envelopes "with crest and initial," ivory
+tablets, pencil-sharpeners, and ink-erasers.
+
+But all their munificence came to nought. Mr. Paul Wimple's heart was
+broken,--as they say of any weary Sysiphus who lies down by his stone
+and sleeps forever;--so he died.
+
+Poor little Sally! The first thing she did was to disappoint her
+friends, and shock the decencies of Hendrik; for it had been agreed on
+all sides that "the poor dear thing would take on dreadfully, or else
+fret herself into fits, or perhaps fall into one of them clay-cold,
+corpsy swoons, like old Miss Dunks has regular every 'revival.'" But
+when they came, with all their tedious commonplaces of a stupid
+condolence not wholly innocent of curiosity, Sally thanked them with
+dry eyes and prudent lips and quiet nerves, and only said she thought
+she should do very well after she had set the house to rights and slept
+awhile. The sewing-circle of that week was a coroner's inquest on
+Sally's character, and "ungrateful," "cold-blooded," "indecent," "worse
+than a hypocrite," were not the hardest epithets in the verdict of the
+jury.
+
+But Sally set the place to rights, and bade her father's old friends to
+the funeral, and buried him with all the money that was in the house,
+neither asking nor accepting aid from any; and with the poor pittance
+that her severe conscience could afford her sorrow she procured some
+cheap material of the doleful sort and went into the most unbecoming of
+"full mourning." When she made her appearance in church,--which she
+did, as usual, the very first Sunday after the funeral,--that plainest
+of bonnets and straitest of black delaines, unadorned save by the
+old-fashioned and dingy lace-cape, descended through many shifts of
+saving from her long-ago-dead-and-gone mother, were so manifestly a
+condescending concession to the conventionalities or superstitions of
+Hendrik, and said so plainly, "This is for your 'decencies,'--it is all
+that I can honestly spare, and more than you should demand,--my life is
+mourning enough,"--that all the congregation bristled at the affront.
+Henceforth Miss Wimple--no longer dear Sally, or even Miss Sally, but
+sharp "Miss Wimple"--had that pew to herself.
+
+Now I believe it was not generally known in Hendrik that Miss Wimple
+had narrowly escaped being a very pretty girl. She was but just in her
+nineteenth year when her father died. Her features were regular, her
+expression lovely, her complexion, before trouble nipped the roses of
+her cheeks, full of the country's freshness. She had tender eyes,
+profoundly overshadowed by long, pensive lashes; in the sweet lines of
+her very delicate mouth a trace of quiet pride was prettily blended
+with thoughtfulness, and a just-forming smile that was always
+melancholy. Her feet were little, and her hands were soft and white;
+nor had toil and sorrow, and the weariness, and indifference to self,
+that come of them, as yet impaired the symmetry of her well-turned
+shape, or the elasticity of her free and graceful carriage. Her
+deportment was frank and self-reliant, and her manners, though
+reserved, far from awkward; her complete presence, indeed, compelled
+consideration and invited confidence.
+
+In her father's lifetime, she had sought, on occasions of unwonted
+cheerfulness, to please him with certain charming tricks of attire; and
+sometimes, with only a white rose-bud gleaming through the braided
+shadows of her hair, lighted herself up as with a star; then, not a
+carping churl, not an envious coquette in Hendrik, but confessed to the
+prettiness of Sally Wimple.
+
+But now there was no longer a grateful life for her white rose-star to
+brighten; so she sat down, in her loneliness and sombre unbecomingness,
+between her forlorn counters with their pitiful shows of stock, and let
+her good looks go by, entertaining only brave thoughts of duty,--till
+she grew pale "and fell into the portion of weeds and outworn faces,"
+so that "how anybody could see the least beauty in that distressing
+Miss Wimple" began to be with many a sincere and almost reasonable
+expression of surprise, instead of a malicious sin against knowledge.
+She waited for customers, but they seldom came,--often, from opening to
+window-barring, not one; for the unwilting little martyr of the Hendrik
+Athenaeum and Circulating Library had made herself a highly
+disapproved-of Miss Wimple by her ungrateful and contumacious behavior
+at her father's death, even if the hard and sharp black lines of that
+scrimped delaine had not sufficed to turn the current of admiration,
+interest, and custom. Besides, the attractions of her slender stock
+were all exhausted. She had not the means of refreshing it with pretty
+novelties and sentimental toys in that line,--with albums and
+valentines, fancy portfolios and pocket-secretaries, pearl paper-knives
+and tortoise-shell cardcases, Chinese puzzles and _papier-maché_
+checker-boards. Nor was the Library replenished "to keep up with the
+current literature of the day"; its last new novel was a superannuated
+dilapidation; not one of its yearly subscribers but had worked through
+the catalogue once and a half.
+
+Since the funeral, and especially since the inauguration of the
+delaine, Mrs. Marmaduke Splurge had been less alive to the necessity of
+improving the minds of her girls; and that virginal ten-dollar
+investment had provided Josephine, Adelaide, and Madeline with supplies
+of small arms and ammunition enough for a protracted campaign of
+epistolary belligerence, interrupted by hair-strokes of coquettish
+diplomacy.
+
+In the flaunting yellow house on the hill the widow and daughters of
+the late Marmaduke Splurge, Esq., railroad-director and real-estate
+broker, fondled and hated each other. Mrs. Marmaduke was a
+well-preserved woman, stylish, worldly-minded, and weak. Miss
+Josephine, her eldest, was handsome, patronizing, _passée_, and a
+sentimental fool; Miss Adelaide, who came next, was handsome,
+eccentric, malicious, and sly; and Miss Madeline, the youngest, was
+handsome, distinguished-looking, intellectual, passionate, and proud.
+
+Mrs. Marmaduke's heart was set on marrying her daughters
+"advantageously," and she gave all of her narrow mind to that thankless
+department. Josephine insisted on a romantic attachment, and pursued a
+visionary spouse with all the ardor and obstinacy of first-rate
+stupidity. Adelaide had the weakness to hate Josephine, the shrewdness
+to fear Madeline, and the viciousness to despise her mother; she
+skilfully and diligently devoted herself to the thwarting of the
+family. Madeline waited, only waited,--with a fierceness so dangerously
+still that it looked like patience,--hated her insulting bondage, but
+waited, like Samson between the pillars upon which the house of Dagon
+stood, resolved to free herself, though she dragged down the edifice
+and were crushed among the wreck.
+
+Mrs. Marmaduke talked tediously of the trials and responsibilities of
+conscientious mothers who have grown-up daughters to provide for, was
+given to frequent freshets of tears, consumed many "nervous pills" of
+the retired-clergyman-whose-sands-of-life-have-nearly-run-out sort, and
+netted bead purses for the Select Home for Poor Gentlemen's Daughters.
+Josephine let down her back hair dowdily, partook recklessly of poetry
+and pickles, read inordinately in bed,--leaning all night on her
+elbow,--and was threatened with spinal curvature and spiritualism.
+Adelaide set invisible little traps in every nook and cranny, every
+cupboard and drawer, from basement to attic, and with a cheerful,
+innocent smile sat watching them night and day. Madeline, fiercely
+calm, warned off the others, with pale lips and flashing eyes and
+bitter tongue, resenting _en famille_ the devilish endearments she so
+sweetly suffered in company; but ever as she groped about in her soul's
+blindness she felt for the central props of that house of Dagon.
+
+All the good society of Hendrik said the Splurges were a charming
+family, a most attached and happy family, lovely in their lives and in
+death not to be divided, and that they looked sweetly in hoops. And yet
+the Splurges had but few visitors; the young women of the neighborhood,
+when they called there, left always an essential part of their true
+selves behind them as they entered, and an ornamental part of their
+reputations when they took their departure; nor were the young men
+partial to the name,--for Josephine bored them, and Adelaide taunted
+them, and Madeline snubbed them, and Mrs. Marmaduke pumped them, and
+the combined family confounded them. Only Mr. Philip Withers was the
+intimate and encouraged _habitué_ of the house.
+
+Mr. Philip Withers was the very man for the looser principles of
+Hendrik,--a fine gentleman's fine son, and his only one, who, by the
+death of his father, had come, whilst he was yet very young, into a
+pretty property in the neighborhood,--a sort of idyllic man of the
+world, with considerable cleverness, a neat miscellaneous education,
+handsome person, effective clothes, plausible address, mischievous
+brilliancy of versatile talk, a deep voice, two or three
+accomplishments best adapted to the atmosphere of sentimental women,
+graceful self-possession, small feet, nice hands, striking attitudes, a
+subduing smile, magnetic whisper, Machiavellian tact, and French
+morals. He could sing you into tears, and dance you into love, and talk
+you into wonder; when he drew, you begged for his portrait by himself,
+and when he wrote, you solicited his autograph.
+
+Mr. Philip Withers had taken his moustache to foreign parts, and done
+the Continent sophisticatedly. He was well-read in cities, and had
+brought home a budget of light, popular, and profusely illustrated
+articles of talk on an equivocal variety of urban life, which he
+prettily distributed among clovery pastorals, Wordsworthian ballads, De
+Coverly entertainments, Crayon sketches, and Sparrowgrass Papers, for
+the benefit of his country subscribers. From all of which you have no
+doubt gathered by this time that Mr. Philip Withers was a graceful
+scamp, and a friend of the Splurges,--who had money, which Mr. Philip
+Withers had not; for he had been a munificent patron of elegant
+pleasures abroad, and since his return had erected an addition to his
+father's house in the shape of a pair of handsome mortgages, as a
+proprietor of romantic tastes in architecture might flank his front
+door with mediaeval donjons.
+
+Mrs. Marmaduke made much of that good-looking and delightful Withers.
+Though not a pious man, in the formal sense of the term, she felt sure
+he was religious according to that stained-glass and fragrant religion
+of the tastes which is an essential attribute of every gentleman,--that
+is, of every well-born man of cultivated preferences and sensitive
+antipathies,--and she had no doubt that gentlemen's souls could be
+saved by that arrangement just as satisfactorily, and so much more
+gracefully. She only wished, my dear, you could hear Mr. Withers
+express himself on those subjects,--his ideas were so delightfully
+"your deal, my love"--clear, his illustrations so sweetly pretty, and
+his manner so earnest; really, he stirred her like--"hearts, did you
+say?--a trump."
+
+Josephine Splurge contented herself with letting down her back hair for
+Mr. Withers and making eyes at him.
+
+"Good-morrow to the guileless Genevieve!"--Withers delighted in
+dispensing equivocal nothings to the dowdy Muse of the sofa and back
+hair.--"Charming weather!"
+
+"There, you bewildering Joseph Surface, you need not go on,--I know
+what you are going to say, and I will neither be flattered nor
+fascinated. Come, confess now, like a dear candid creature, throw off
+your irresistibly bewitching mask, and own that your sentiments are all
+rhetoric."
+
+"Josy, dear," Adelaide would insinuate, "what a wonderful memory you
+have!--so well managed, too! Now whom _did_ you hear say that?"
+
+Josephine was wont to declare that the Admirable Crichton lived again
+in that kaleidoscopic creature; but he was so dazzling, so bewildering,
+so dangerous, that to converse with him was like having fireworks in
+one's boudoir.
+
+With Madeline Withers was on strange terms, if any terms at all. She
+threatened to him in the middle of his best stories, smiled quietly
+when he preached, yawned to his poetical recitations, left the room
+when he sang, mistook the subjects of his sketches with a
+verisimilitude of innocence that often deceived even himself, was
+silent and sneered much whenever he was present. And all these
+rudenesses she performed with a successful air of genuine abstraction;
+they never failed of their intention by being overdone, or by being too
+_directly_ directed at him.
+
+Remarks seldom passed between these two; when they did, Withers spoke
+always first, and Madeline replied briefly and with politeness. And yet
+there were occasions when a sharp-sighted and suspicious observer might
+have detected a strange discomposure in Madeline's conduct in the
+presence of Withers,--when, indeed, she seemed to be laboring under
+irritability, and proneness to singular excitement, which began with
+his entrance and disappeared with his departure. At such times she
+would break her haughty quiet with fierce sallies upon her sisters; but
+Withers stung her back into silence with sharp and telling retorts,--as
+you may have seen a practised beast-tamer in a cage flog an angry
+tigress, when her eyes flashed, and her ears were set back, and she
+unsheathed her horrid claws, and lashed her sides, and growled with all
+the appalling fee-faw-fum of the jungle,--flog her back into her
+corner, with nought more formidable than a lady's riding-whip, dainty,
+slender, and sharp. But Withers administered the chastisement with such
+devilish grace that it was unperceived, save by the quick, shrewd
+Adelaide perhaps, who perceived everything,--but never _saw_, nor ever
+spoke. If you could have beheld the lips and the eyes of Madeline, on
+such occasions, you would have cursed this Philip Withers, or beaten
+him to her feet.
+
+Between Withers and Adelaide the relations were plainer; indeed, before
+the small Splurge set they appeared as avowed lovers. Toward "Addy"
+Withers was all elegant devotion and gracious gallantry, knight-like in
+his chivalric and debonair devoir.
+
+For Withers Addy was, openly, all deference and tenderly wistful
+solicitude, but in secret not all security and exultation. Even while
+it seemed high triumph in her heart's camp, her well-drilled eyes and
+ears were still on guard, and her hidden thoughts lay upon their arms.
+
+Still it wore the aspect of a lyric match, and the hearts of humbler
+Hendrik lovers set it to music.
+
+"For other guests," Withers seemed to say,
+
+  "I wile the hours with tale or song,
+    Or web of fancy, fringed with careless rhyme;
+  But how to find a fitting lay for thee,
+    Who hast the harmonies of every time?"
+
+And Addy _looked_,
+
+  "Thou art to me most like a royal guest,
+    Whose travels bring him to some humble roof,
+  Where simple rustics spread their festal fare,
+    And, blushing, own it is not good enough.
+
+  "Bethink thee, then, whene'er thou com'st to me,
+    From high emprise and noble toil to rest,
+  My thoughts are weak and trivial, matched with thine,
+    But the poor mansion offers thee its best."
+
+So Mrs. Marmaduke exalted her horn and exceedingly magnified her
+manoeuvring office. On the strength of it, she treated herself to
+profuse felicitations and fished among her neighbors for more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+And now I will let you into a secret, which, according to the received
+rules for story-construction, should be barred against you yet a little
+longer. I will fling it wide open at once, instead of holding it ajar
+and admitting you edgewise, as it were, one conjecture at a time.
+
+Miss Wimple had a lover;--she had had him since six months before her
+father died, and the decayed publisher had never guessed of him nor
+Sally confessed him; for the good, thoughtful daughter knew it would
+but complicate the old man's perplexities and cares to no purpose. To
+be sure, his joyful consent was certain; but so long as he lived, "the
+thing was not to be thought of," she said, and it was not wise to plant
+in his mind a wish with which her duty could not accord. So Sally's
+lover was hushed up,--hidden in discretion as in a closet.
+
+Simon Blount was his name, and he was a young farmer of five hundred
+acres in first-rate cultivation, with barns, stables, and offices in
+complete repair,--a well-stocked, well-watered place, with "all the
+modern improvements," and convenient to the Hendrik branch of the New
+York and Bunker Hill railroad.
+
+The young man had inherited this very neat property from his father,--a
+thriving, intelligent farmer of the best class, Mr. Wimple's oldest
+friend, his playmate in boyhood, and his crony when he died. Simon's
+mother and Sally's had likewise been schoolmates, and intimates to the
+last, fondly attached to each other, and mutually confiding in each
+other's love and truth in times of pain and trouble.
+
+But Mr. Blount and Mrs. Wimple had been dead these ten years;--they
+died in the same month. Simon and Sally were children when that
+happened, and since then they had grown up together in the closest
+family intimacy, interrupted only by Sally's winter schooling in New
+York, and renewed every summer by her regular seasons at Hendrik.
+
+To the young man and the ripening maiden, then, their love came as
+naturally as violets and clover-blooms, and was as little likely to
+take their parents or the familiar country-folk by surprise.
+
+When Simon took trips to New York, he "stopped" at Mr. Wimple's, and
+Sally's summer home in Hendrik was always "Aunt Phoebe's," as she had
+been taught to call Simon's mother.
+
+You will wonder, then, that Mr. Paul Wimple should have blushed and
+struggled and died in the forlorn little "Athenaeum," and that Sally
+should sit down in her loneliness and "that fright of a delaine" to
+wait for customers that came not, when in their old friends' house were
+comfortable mansions, and in their old friends' hearts tearful kisses
+and welcome free as air. But you must remember that with sudden poverty
+comes, often, shrinking pride, and a degree of suspicion, and high
+scorn of those belittled pensioners who hang upon old ties; that old
+age, when it is sorely beset, is not always patient, clear-sighted, and
+just; that, when the heart of a young girl, in Sally's extremity,
+carries the helpless love that had been clad in purple, and couched in
+eider, and pampered with bonny cats, and served in gold, to Pride, and
+asks, "Stern master, what shall I do with this now?" the answer will
+be, "Strip it of its silken fooleries,--let it lie on the ground, the
+broad bosom of its honest, hearty mother,--teach it the wholesomeness
+of brown bread and cresses, fairly earned, and water from the
+spring,--and let it wait on itself, and wait for the rest!" Once, when
+the talk at the Splurge house descended for a moment from its lofty
+flights to describe a few eccentric mocking circles around the Hendrik
+Athenaeum and Miss Wimple, Madeline said, "If you have sense or
+decency, be silent;--the girl is true and brave, every way better
+taught than we, and prouder than she knows. If we were truly as
+scornful of her as she is indifferent to us, we would let her glorious
+insignificance alone."
+
+So Miss Wimple waited in her shabby little shop and plied her needle
+for hire. Her lover was a handsome fellow, with a bright, frank face,
+and a vigorous, agile, and graceful form; there was more than common
+intellect in his clear, broad brow, overhung with close clusters of
+brown country curls; taste was on his lips and tenderness in his eyes;
+his soul was full of generosity, candor, and fidelity; his every
+movement and attitude denoted native refinement, and in his talk he
+displayed an excellent understanding and remarkable cultivation; for
+his father had bestowed on him superior advantages of education;--"as
+fine a young fellow, Sir," that estimable old Doctor Vandyke would say,
+"as ever you saw."
+
+It was true, Simon's travels had never reached beyond New York; but,
+unlike Mr. Philip Withers, he had brought home solid comforts, useful
+facts, wholesome sentiments, natural manners, and sensible, but modest
+conversation,--instead of an astonishing variety of intellectual
+curiosities and intricate moral toys, whereat plain people
+marvelled--as in the case of a certain ingenious Chinese puzzle, ball
+within ball, all save the last elaborately carved--how the very
+diminutive _plain_ one at the centre ever got in there, or ever could
+be got out.
+
+In another respect the young farmer enjoyed a noticeable advantage over
+the man-of-the-world;--he was quite able to tear down those fancy
+donjon additions, and erect a plain, honest, substantial, very
+comfortable, and very cheerful Yankee porch on their site.
+
+But Miss Wimple said to Simon,--"For a season you will keep aloof from
+this place and from me. I must see you no oftener than it would be
+allowable for an occasional customer of the better sort to drop in; and
+when you do come, state your business--let it always be _business_, or
+pass by--and take your leave, like any indifferent neighbor who came to
+change a book, or purchase a trifle, or engage work. On these terms our
+love must wait, until by my own unaided exertions--without help, mark
+you, Simon, from any man or woman on earth--I have discharged the debt
+of charity that is due to the good people of this place who helped my
+father in his utmost need, and gave him this shop and these things in
+trust. From you, of all men, Simon, I will accept no aid. Play no
+tricks of kindness upon me; nor let your love tempt you to experiment,
+with disguised charity, upon my purpose. You would only find that you
+had failed, and ruined all. The proceeds of this poor shop must belong
+to those whose money procured it, until I shall have paid its price; on
+no pretext shall that fund be touched for other purposes. I will
+sustain myself independently; you know that I ply a nimble needle, and
+that my handiwork will be in esteem among the richer folks of Hendrik.
+And now, dear Simon, let me have my way. You need no more earnest
+assurance of my love than the pains I would take, in this matter, to
+make you respect me more. When my task is done, I will deck myself as
+of old, and again light up the rose-star in my hair, and stand in the
+door and clap my hands to call you hither, and hold you fast; but not
+till then. Let me have my way till then."
+
+And Simon said,--"You are wiser than I, Sally, and braver, and every
+way better. I will obey you in this, and wait,--the more cheerfully
+because I shall be always at hand, and, if your heart should fail you,
+I know you will not refuse my aid, nor prefer another's to mine."
+
+And so they passed for mere acquaintances; and there were some who
+said--Philip Withers among them--that "that plausible Golden Farmer,
+young Blount, had treated the forlorn thing shabbily."
+
+About that time hoops came in, and the Splurge girls flourished the
+first that appeared in Hendrik.
+
+One day, as Miss Wimple sat in a low Yankee rocking-chair, sewing among
+her books, she was favored with the extraordinary apparition of Miss
+Madeline Splurge,--her first visitor that day, whether on business or
+curiosity.
+
+"I wish to procure a small morocco pocket-book, Miss Wimple, if you
+keep such things."
+
+Miss Wimple, with a slight bow of assent, took from a glass
+counter-case a paper box in which was a miscellaneous assortment of
+such articles; there were five or six of the pocket-books. Madeline
+selected one,--a small, flexible affair, of some dark-colored morocco
+lined with pink silk. She paid the trifle the shy, demure little
+librarian demanded, and was taking her leave in silence, without even a
+"Good-day," when, as she was passing the door, Miss Wimple espied on
+the counter, near where her customer had stood, a visiting-card; her
+eye fell on the engraved name,--"Mr. Philip Withers"; of course Miss
+Splurge had dropped it unawares. She hastened with it to the
+door,--Madeline had just stept into the street,--
+
+"This card is yours, I presume, Miss Splurge?"
+
+Madeline turned upon her with a surprised air, inquiringly,--looked in
+her own hands, and shook her handkerchief with the quick, nervous,
+alarmed movement of one who suddenly discovers a very particular
+loss,--became, in an instant, pale as death, stared for a moment at
+Miss Wimple with fixed eyes, and slightly shivered. Then, quickly and
+fiercely, she snatched the card from Miss Wimple's hand,--
+
+"Where--where did you find this? Did--did I leave--drop--?"
+
+"You left it on my counter," Miss Wimple quietly replied, with a
+considerate self-possession that admirably counterfeited
+unconsciousness of Madeline's consternation.
+
+"Come hither, into the shop,--a word with you,"--and Madeline entered
+quickly, and closed the door behind her. For a moment she leaned with
+her elbow on the counter, and pressed her eyes with her fingers.
+
+"Are you ill, Miss Splurge?" Miss Wimple gently inquired.
+
+"No. Did you read what is on this card?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You--you--you read"----Madeline's hands were clenched, her face red
+and distorted; she gnashed her teeth, and seemed choking.
+
+"Why, Miss Splurge, what is the matter with you? Yes, I read the
+name,--Mr. Philip Withers. The card lay on the counter,--I could not
+know it was yours,--I read the name, and immediately brought it to you.
+What excites you so? Sit down, and calm yourself; surely you are ill."
+
+Madeline did not accept the stool Miss Wimple offered her, but,
+availing herself of the pause to assume a forced calmness which left
+her paler than at first, she fixed her flashing eyes steadily on the
+deep, still eyes of her companion, and asked,--
+
+"You did not turn this card, then?--you did not look on the other
+side?"
+
+"On my honor, I did not."
+
+"On your honor! You are not lying, girl?"--Miss Splurge thrust the card
+into the newly-purchased pocket-book, and hid that in her bosom.
+
+"Miss Splurge," said Miss Wimple, very simply, and with no excitement
+of tone or expression, "when you feel sufficiently recovered to appear
+on the street, without exposing yourself there as you have done in
+here, go out!"
+
+And Miss Wimple turned from Madeline and would have resumed her sewing;
+but Madeline cried,--
+
+"Stay, stay, Miss Wimple, I beseech you! I knew not what I said;
+forgive me, ah, forgive me!--for you are merciful, as you are pure and
+true. If you were aware of all, you would know that I could not insult
+you, if I would. Trouble, distraction, have made me coarse,--false,
+too, to myself as unjust and injurious to you; for I know your virtues,
+and believe in them as I believe in little else in this world or the
+next. If in my hour of agony and shame I could implore the help of any
+human being, I would come to you--dear, honest, brave girl!--before all
+others, to fling myself at your feet, and kiss your hands, and beseech
+you to pity me and save me from myself, to hold my hot head on your
+gentle bosom, and your soothing hand on my fierce heart. Good-by!
+Good-by! I need not ask your pardon again,--you have no anger for such
+as I. But if your blessed loneliness is ever disturbed by vulgar,
+chattering visitors, you will not name me to them, or confess that you
+have seen me." And ere Miss Wimple could utter the gentle words that
+were already on her lips, Madeline was gone.
+
+For a while Miss Wimple remained standing on the spot, gazing
+anxiously, but vacantly, toward the door by which the half-mad lady had
+departed,--her soft, deep eyes full of painful apprehension. Then she
+resumed her little rocking-chair, and, as she gathered up her work from
+the floor where she had dropped it, tears trickled down her cheeks; she
+sighed and shook her head, in utter sorrow.
+
+"They were always strange women," she thought, "those Splurges,--not a
+sound heart nor a healthy mind among them. Could their false, barren
+life have maddened this proud Madeline? Else what did she mean by her
+'hot head' and her 'fierce heart'? And what had that Philip Withers to
+do with her trouble and her distraction? She recollected now that Simon
+had once said, in his odd, significant way, that Mr. Withers was a
+charming person to contemplate from a safe distance,--Simon, who never
+lent himself to idle detraction. She remembered, too, that she had
+often reproached herself for her irrational prejudice against the
+man,--that she was forever finding something false and sinister in the
+face that every one else said was eminently handsome, and ugly
+dissonance in the voice that all Hendrik praised for its music. Was he
+on both sides of that card?--Ah, well! it might be just nothing, after
+all; the poor lady might be ill, or vexed past endurance at home; or
+some unhappy love affair might have come to fret her proud, impatient,
+defiant temper. But not Withers,--oh, of course not Withers!--for was
+it not well known that Adelaide was his choice, that his assiduous and
+graceful attentions to her silenced even his loudest enemies, who could
+no longer accuse him of duplicity and disloyalty to women? But she
+would feel less disturbed, and sleep better, perhaps, if she knew that
+Madeline was safe at home, and tranquil again."
+
+Thinking of sleep reminded Miss Wimple that she had a pious task to
+perform before she could betake her to her sweet little cot. A
+superannuated and bedridden woman, who had nursed her mother in her
+last illness, lived on the northern outskirts of the town; and she must
+cross the long covered bridge that spanned the Hendrik River to take a
+basket full of comforting trifles to old Hetty that night.
+
+About nine o'clock Miss Wimple had done her charitable errand, and was
+on her way home again, with a light step and a happy heart, an empty
+basket and old Hetty's abundant blessings. She was alone, but feared
+nothing,--the streets of Hendrik at night were familiar to her and she
+to them; and although her shy and quiet traits were not sufficiently
+understood to make her universally beloved, not a loafing ruffian in
+town but knew her modest face, her odd attire, and her straightforward
+walk; and the rudest respected her.
+
+As she approached the covered bridge, the moon was shining brightly at
+the entrance, making the gloom within profounder. It was a long, wooden
+structure, of a kind common enough on the turnpikes of the Atlantic
+States, where they cross the broader streams. Stout posts and
+cross-beams, and an arch that stretched from end to end, divided the
+bridge into two longitudinal compartments, for travellers going and
+coming respectively; there were small windows on each side, and at
+either end, on a conspicuous signboard, were the Company's
+"Rules,"--"Walk your Horses over this Bridge, or be subject to a Fine
+of not less than Five nor exceeding Twenty Dollars"--"Keep to the
+Right, as the Law directs."
+
+As Miss Wimple entered the shadow of the bridge on the right hand, she
+was startled by hearing excited voices, which seemed to come from the
+other side of the central arch, and about the middle of the bridge,
+where the darkness was deepest:--
+
+"Speak low, I say, or be silent! Some one will be coming presently;--I
+heard steps approaching even now"--Miss Wimple instinctively stopped,
+and stood motionless, almost holding her breath, at the end of the arch
+where the moonlight did not reach. She was no eavesdropper, mark
+you,--the meannesses she scorned included that character in a special
+clause. But she had recognised the voice, and with her own true
+delicacy would spare the speaker the shame of discovery and the dread
+of exposure.--"Speak low, or I will leave you. If you are indifferent
+for yourself, you shall not toss me to the geese of Hendrik."
+
+"You are right";--it was a woman's voice; but, whatever her tone had
+been before, she spoke so low now, and with a voice so hoarse with
+suppressed emotion, so altered by a sort of choking whisper, that Miss
+Wimple, if she had ever heard it before, could not recognize it;--"You
+are right; the time for that has not come;--I could not stay to enjoy
+it;--I am going now, but we will meet again."
+
+"What would you have? I have said I would marry you,--and leave
+you,--so soon as I can shake myself clear of that other stupid
+infatuation."
+
+"Now, Philip Withers, what a weak, pusillanimous wretch you must be,
+having known me so long, and tried my temper so well, to hope to find
+me such a fool, after all,--that kind of fool, I mean! My deepest
+shame, in this unutterably shameful hour, is that I chose such a
+cowardly ass to besot myself with.--There, the subject sickens me, and
+I am going. Dare to follow me, and the geese of Hendrik shall have you.
+I go scot-free, fearing nothing, having nothing to lose; but I hold
+you, my exquisite Joseph Surface--oh, the wit of my sister! oh, the
+wisdom of fools!--by your fine sentiments; and when I want you I shall
+find you. I can take care of me and _mine_; but beware how you dare to
+claim lot or portion in what I choose to call my own, even though your
+brand be on it,--Joseph!"
+
+She hissed the name, and, with hurried steps, and a low, scornful
+laugh, departed. As Miss Wimple, all aghast, leaned forward with quick
+breath and tumultuous heart, and peered through the gloom toward where
+the silver moonlight lay across the further end of the bridge, she saw
+a white dress flash across a bright space and disappear. Then Philip
+Withers stepped forth into the moonlight, stood there for a minute or
+two, and gazed in the direction of a branch road which made off from
+the turnpike close to the bridge, and led, at right angles to it, to
+the railroad station on the right; then slowly, and without once
+looking back, he followed the turnpike to the town.
+
+All astonished, bewildered, full of strange, vague fears, Miss Wimple
+remained in the now awful gloom and stillness of the bridge till he had
+quite disappeared. Then gathering up her wits with an effort, she
+resumed her homeward way. As she emerged from the shadows into the same
+bright place which Withers and his mysterious companion had just
+passed, she spied something dark lying on the ground. She stooped and
+picked it up; it was a small morocco pocket-book lined with pink silk.
+
+Good Heaven! She remembered,--the one she had sold to Miss Madeline
+Splurge that afternoon,--the very same! So, then, that was her voice,
+her dress; she had, indeed, dimly thought of Madeline more than once,
+while that woman was speaking so bitterly,--but had not recognized her
+tones, nor once fancied it might be she. Now she easily recalled her
+words, and understood some of her allusions. And her wild, distracted,
+incoherent speech in the shop, too,--ah! it was all too plain; that was
+surely she; but what might be the nature or degree of her trouble Miss
+Wimple dared not try to guess. This Philip Withers,--was he a villain,
+after all? "Had he--this poor lady--Oh, God forbid! No, no, no!"
+
+She opened the pocket-book;--a visiting-card was all it contained. She
+drew it forth,--"Mr. Philip Withers,"--yes, she knew it by that broken
+corner, as though it had been marked so for a purpose. She held it up
+before her eyes where the moon was brightest, and--turned the other
+side.
+
+"Ah, me!" exclaimed that Chevalier Bayard in shabby, skimped delaine,
+"what was I going to do?"
+
+Blushing, she returned the card to its place, and hiding the
+pocket-book in her honorable bosom, hurried homeward. But her soul was
+troubled as she went; sometimes she sobbed aloud, and more than once
+she stood still and wrung her hands.
+
+"Ah! if Simon Blount would but come now to advise me what is safest and
+best to do!"
+
+Should she go to Mrs. Splurge and tell her all? No,--what right had
+she? That would but precipitate an exposure which might not be
+necessary. The case was not clear enough to justify so officious a
+step. Madeline was in no immediate danger. Perhaps she had only taken a
+different road to avoid the odious companionship of Withers. No doubt
+she was half-way home already. She would wait till morning, for clearer
+judgment and information. Till then she would hope for the best.
+
+When Miss Wimple reached her humble little nest, she knelt beside her
+bed and prayed, tearfully, to the God who averts danger and forgives
+sin; but she did not sleep all night.
+
+In the morning a gossiping neighbor came with the news;--"that little
+cooped-up Wimple never hears anything," she thought.
+
+Miss Madeline Splurge had disappeared. Mr. Philip Withers was searching
+for her high and low. She had not been seen since yesterday
+afternoon,--had not returned home last night. It was feared she had
+drowned herself in the river for spite. She, the knowing neighbor, "had
+always said so,--had always said that Madeline Splurge was a quare
+girl,--sich high and mighty airs, and _sich_ a temper. Now here it was,
+and what would people say,--specially them as had always turned up
+their nose at her opinion?"
+
+Miss Wimple said nothing; but she treated Pity to two poor little
+lies;--one she told, and the other she looked:--She was not well, she
+said, which was the reason why she was so pale; and then she looked
+surprised at the news of Madeline's flitting.
+
+Later in the day another report:--A letter left by Madeline had been
+found at home. She had taken offence at some sharp thing that sarcastic
+Mr. Withers, who always did hate her, had said; and had gone off in a
+miff, without even good-by or a carpet-bag, and taken the night train
+to New York, where she had an uncle on the mother's side.--And a good
+riddance! Now Miss Addy and Mr. Withers would have some peace of their
+time. Such a sweet couple, too!
+
+Madeline _had_ left a note:--"I was sick of you all, and I have escaped
+from you. You will be foolish to take any trouble about it."
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+
+
+
+THE CUP.
+
+
+  The cup I sing is a cup of gold,
+  Many and many a century old,
+  Sculptured fair, and over-filled
+  With wine of a generous vintage, spilled
+  In crystal currents and foaming tides
+  All round its luminous, pictured sides.
+
+  Old Time enamelled and embossed
+  This ancient cup at an infinite cost.
+  Its frame he wrought of metal that run
+  Red from the furnace of the sun.
+  Ages on ages slowly rolled
+  Before the glowing mass was cold,
+  And still he toiled at the antique mould,
+  Turning it fast in his fashioning hand,
+  Tracing circle, layer, and band,
+  Carving figures quaint and strange,
+  Pursuing, through many a wondrous change,
+  The symmetry of a plan divine.
+  At last he poured the lustrous wine,
+  Crowned high the radiant wave with light,
+  And held aloft the goblet bright,
+  Half in shadow, and wreathed in mist
+  Of purple, amber, and amethyst.
+
+  This is the goblet from whose brink
+  All creatures that have life must drink:
+  Foemen and lovers, haughty lord
+  And sallow beggar with lips abhorred.
+  The new-born infant, ere it gain
+  The mother's breast, this wine must drain.
+  The oak with its subtile juice is fed,
+  The rose drinks till her cheeks are red,
+  And the dimpled, dainty violet sips
+  The limpid stream with loving lips.
+  It holds the blood of sun and star,
+  And all pure essences that are:
+  No fruit so high on the heavenly vine,
+  Whose golden hanging clusters shine
+  On the far-off shadowy midnight hills,
+  But some sweet influence it distils
+  That slideth down the silvery rills.
+  Here Wisdom drowned her dangerous thought,
+  The early gods their secrets brought;
+  Beauty, in quivering lines of light,
+  Ripples before the ravished sight;
+  And the unseen mystic spheres combine
+  To charm the cup and drug the wine.
+
+  All day I drink of the wine and deep
+  In its stainless waves my senses steep;
+  All night my peaceful soul lies drowned
+  In hollows of the cup profound;
+  Again each morn I clamber up
+  The emerald crater of the cup,
+  On massive knobs of jasper stand
+  And view the azure ring expand:
+  I watch the foam-wreaths toss and swim
+  In the wine that o'erruns the jewelled rim,
+  Edges of chrysolite emerge,
+  Dawn-tinted, from the misty surge;
+  My thrilled, uncovered front I lave,
+  My eager senses kiss the wave,
+  And drain, with its viewless draught, the lore
+  That warmeth the bosom's secret core,
+  And the fire that maddens the poet's brain
+  With wild sweet ardor and heavenly pain.
+
+
+
+THE LANGUAGE OF THE SEA.
+
+
+Every calling has something of a special dialect. Even where there is,
+one would think, no necessity for it, as in the conversation of
+Sophomores, sporting men, and reporters for the press, a dialect is
+forthwith partly invented, partly suffered to grow, and the sturdy stem
+of original English exhibits a new crop of parasitic weeds which often
+partake of the nature of fungi and betoken the decay of the trunk
+whence they spring.
+
+Is this the case with the language of the sea? Has the sea any
+language? or has each national tongue grafted into it the technology of
+the maritime calling?
+
+The sea has its own laws,--the common and unwritten law of the
+forecastle, of which Admiralty Courts take infrequent cognizance, and
+the law of the quarter-deck, which is to be read in acts of Parliament
+and statutes of Congress. The sea has its own customs, superstitions,
+traditions, architecture, and government; wherefore not its own
+language? We maintain that it has, and that this tongue, which is not
+enumerated by Adelung, which possesses no grammar and barely a lexicon
+of its own, and which is not numbered among the polyglot achievements
+of Mezzofanti or Burritt, has yet a right to its place among the
+world's languages.
+
+Like everything else which is used at sea,--except salt-water,--its
+materials came from shore. As the ship is originally wrought from the
+live-oak forests of Florida and the pine mountains of Norway, the iron
+mines of England, the hemp and flax fields of Russia, so the language
+current upon her deck is the composite gift of all sea-loving peoples.
+But as all these physical elements of construction suffer a sea-change
+on passing into the service of Poseidon, so again the landward phrases
+are metamorphosed by their contact with the main. But no one set of
+them is allowed exclusive predominance. For the ocean is the only true,
+grand, federative commonwealth which has never owned a single master.
+The cloud-compelling Zeus might do as he pleased on land; but far
+beyond the range of outlook from the white watch-tower of Olympus
+rolled the immeasurable waves of the wine-purple deep, acknowledging
+only the Enosigaios Poseidon. Consequently, while Zeus allotted to this
+and that hero and demigod Argos and Mycene and the woody Zacynthus,
+each to each, the ocean remained unbounded and unmeted. Nation after
+nation, race after race, has tried its temporary lordship, but only at
+the pleasure of the sea itself. Sometimes the ensign of sovereignty has
+been an eagle, sometimes a winged lion,--now a black raven, then a
+broom,--to-day St. Andrew's Cross, to-morrow St George's, perhaps the
+next a starry cluster. There is no permanent architecture of the main
+by which to certify the triumphs of these past invaders. Their ruined
+castles are lying "fifty fathom deep,"--Carthaginian galley and Roman
+trireme, the argosy of Spain, the "White Ship" of Fitz Stephen, the
+"Ville de Paris," down to the latest "non-arrival" whispered at
+Lloyd's,--all are gone out of sight into the forgotten silences of the
+green underworld. Upon the land we can trace Roman and Celt, Saxon and
+Norman, by names and places, by minster, keep, and palace. This one
+gave the battlement, that the pinnacle, the other the arch. But the
+fluent surface of the sea takes no such permanent impression. Gone are
+the quaint stern-galleries, gone the high top-gallant fore-castles,
+gone the mighty banks of oars of the olden time. It is only in the
+language that we are able to trace the successive nations in their
+march along the mountain waves; for to that each has from time to time
+given its contribution, and of each it has worn the seeming stamp, till
+some Actium or Lepanto or Cape Trafalgar has compelled its reluctant
+transfer to another's hands.
+
+Or rather, we may say, the language of the sea comes and makes a part,
+as it were, of the speech of many different nations, as the sailor
+abides for a season in Naples, Smyrna, Valparaiso, Canton, and New
+York,--and from each it borrows, as the sailor does, from this a silk
+handkerchief, from that a cap, here a brooch, and there a scrap of
+tattooing, but still remains inhabitant of all and citizen of
+none,--the language of the seas.
+
+What do we mean by this? It is that curious nomenclature which from
+truck to keelson clothes the ship with strange but fitting
+phrases,--which has its proverbs, idioms, and forms of expression that
+are of the sea, salt, and never of the land, earthy. Wherever tidewater
+flows, goes also some portion of this speech. It is "understanded of
+the people" among all truly nautical races. It dominates over their own
+languages, so that the Fin and Mowree, (Maori,) the Lascar and the
+Armorican, meeting on the same deck, find a common tongue whereby to
+carry on the ship's work,--the language in which to "hand, reef, and
+steer."
+
+Whence did it come? From all nautical peoples. Not from the Hebrew
+race. To them the possession of the soil was a fixed idea. The sea
+itself had nothing wherewith to tempt them; they were not adventurers
+or colonizers; they had none of that accommodating temper as to creed,
+customs, and diet, which is the necessary characteristic of the sailor.
+But the nations they expelled from Canaan, the worshippers of the
+fish-tailed Dagon, who fled westward to build Tartessus (Tarshish) on
+the Gaditanian peninsula, or who clung with precarious footing to the
+sea-shore of Philistia and the rocky steeps of Tyre and Sidon,--these
+were seafarers. From them their Greek off-shoots, the Ionian islanders,
+inherited something of the maritime faculty. There are traces in the
+"Odyssey" of a nautical language, of a technology exclusively belonging
+to the world "off soundings," and an exceeding delight in the rush and
+spray-flinging of a vessel's motion,--
+
+  "The purple wave hissed from the bow of the
+  bark in its going."
+
+Hence the Greek is somewhat of a sailor to this day, and in many a
+Mediterranean port lie sharp and smartly-rigged brigantines with
+classic names of old Heathendom gilt in pure Greek type upon their
+sterns.
+
+But the Greek and Carthaginian elements of the ocean language must now
+lie buried very deep in it, and it is hard to recognize their original
+image and superscription in those smooth-worn current coins which form
+the basis of the sea-speech. It is not within the limits of a cursory
+paper like this to enter into too deep an investigation, or to trace
+perhaps a fanciful lineage for such principal words as "mast," and
+"sail," and "rope." In one word, "anchor," the Greek plainly
+survives,--and doubtless many others might be made out by a skilful
+philologist.
+
+The Roman, to whom the empire of the sea, or, more properly speaking,
+the petty principality of the Mediterranean, was transferred, had
+little liking for that sceptre. He was driven to the water by sheer
+necessity, but he never took to it kindly. He was at best a
+sea-soldier, a marine, not brought up from the start in the
+merchant-service and then polished into the complete blue-jacket and
+able seaman of the navy. Nobody can think of those ponderous old
+Romans, whose comedies were all borrowed from Attica, whose poems were
+feeble echoes of the Greek, and whose architecture, art, and domestic
+culture were at best the work of foreign artists,--nobody can think of
+them at sea without a quiet chuckle at the inevitable consequences of
+the first "reef-topsail breeze." Fancy those solemn, stately
+Patricians, whose very puns are ponderous enough to set their galleys a
+streak deeper in the water, fancy them in a brisk sea with a nor'wester
+brewing to windward, watching off the port of Carthage for Admiral
+Hasdrubal and his fleet to come out. They were good hand-to-hand
+fighters,--none better; and so they won their victories, no doubt; but,
+having won them, they dropped sea-going, and made the conquered nations
+transport their corn and troops, while they went back to their
+congenial camps and solemn Senate-debates.
+
+But Italy was not settled by the Roman alone. A black-haired,
+fire-eyed, daring, flexible race had colonized the Sicilian Islands,
+and settled thickly around the Tarentine Gulf, and built their cities
+up the fringes of the Apennines as far as the lovely Bay of Parthenope.
+Greek they were,--by tradition the descendants of those who took
+Troy-town,--Greek they are to this day, as any one may see who will
+linger on the Mole or by the Santa Lucia Stairs at Naples. At Salerno,
+at Amalfi, were cradled those fishing-hamlets which were to nurse
+seamen, and not soldiers. Far up the Adriatic, the storm of Northern
+invasion had forced a fair-haired and violet-eyed folk into the
+fastnesses of the lagoons, to drive their piles and lay their keels
+upon the reedy islets of San Giorgio and San Marco; while on the
+western side an ancient Celtic colony was rising into prominence, and
+rearing at the foot of the Ligurian Alps the palaces of Genoa the
+Proud.
+
+Thus upon the Italian stock was begun the language of the seas. Upon
+the Italian main the words "tack" and "sheet," "prow" and "poop," were
+first heard; and those most important terms by which the law of the
+marine highway is given,--"starboard" and "larboard." For if, after the
+Italian popular method, we contract the words _questo bordo_ (this
+side) and _quello bordo_ (that side) into _sto bordo_ and _lo bordo_,
+we have the roots of our modern phrases. And so the term "port," which
+in naval usage supersedes "larboard," is the abbreviated _porta lo
+timone_, (carry the helm,) which, like the same term in military usage,
+"port arms," seems traditionally to suggest the left hand.
+
+But while the Italian races were beginning their brief but brilliant
+career, there was in training a nobler and hardier race of seamen, from
+whose hands the helm would not so soon be wrested. The pirates of the
+Baltic were wrestling with the storms of the wild Cattegat and braving
+the sleety squalls of the Skager Rack, stretching far out from the land
+to colonize Iceland and the Faroes, to plant a mysteriously lost nation
+in Eastern Greenland, and to leave strange traces of themselves by the
+vine-clad shores of Narraganset Bay. For, first of all nations and
+races to steer boldly into the deep, to abandon the timid fashion of
+the Past, which groped from headland to headland, as boys paddle skiffs
+from wharf to wharf, the Viking met the blast and the wave, and was no
+more the slave, but the lord of the sea. He it was, who, abandoning the
+traditionary rule which loosened canvas only to a wind dead aft or well
+on the quarter, learned to brace up sharp on a wind and to baffle the
+adverse airs. Yet he, too, was overmuch a fighter to make a true
+seaman, and his children no sooner set foot on the shore than they drew
+their swords and went to carving the conquered land into Norman
+lordships. But where they piloted the way others followed, and city
+after city along the German Ocean and upon the British coasts became
+also maritime. For King Alfred had come, and the English oaks were
+felled, and their gnarled boughs found exceedingly convenient for the
+curved knees of ships. Upon the Italian stock became engrafted the
+Norman, and French, and Danish, the North German and Saxon elements.
+And so, after a century of crusading had thoroughly broken up the
+stay-at-home notions of Europe, the maritime spirit blazed up. Spain
+and Portugal now took the lead and were running races against each
+other, the one in the Western, the other in the Eastern seas, and
+flaunting their crowned flags in monopoly of the Indian archipelagos
+and the American tropics. Just across the North Sea, over the low
+sand-dykes of Holland, scarce higher than a ship's bulwarks, looked a
+race whom the spleeny wits of other nations declared to be born
+web-footed. Yet their sails were found in every sea, and, like resolute
+merchants, as they were, they left to others the glory while they did
+the world's carrying. Their impress upon the sea-language was neither
+faint nor slight. They were true marines, and from Manhattan Island to
+utmost Japan, the brown, bright sides, full bows, and bulwarks tumbling
+home of the Dutchman were familiar as the sea-gulls. Underneath their
+clumsy-looking upper-works, the lines were true and sharp; and but the
+other day, when the world's clippers were stooping their lithe
+racehorse-like forms to the seas in the great ocean sweepstakes, the
+fleetest of all was--a Dutchman.
+
+But to combine and fuse all these elements was the work of England. To
+that nation, with its noble inheritance of a composite language,
+incomparably rich in all the nomenclature of natural objects and
+sounds, was given especially the coast department, so to speak, of
+language. Every variety of shore, from shingly beaches to craggy
+headlands, was theirs. While the grand outlines and larger features are
+Italian, such as Cape, Island, Gulf, the minuter belong to the Northern
+races, who are closer observers of Nature's nice differences, and who
+take more delight in a frank, fearless acquaintance and fellowship with
+out-door objects. Beach, sand, headland, foreland, shelf, reef,
+breaker, bar, bank, ledge, shoal, spit, sound, race, reach, are words
+of Northern origin. So, too, the host of local names by which every
+peculiar feature of shore-scenery is individualized,--as, for instance,
+the Needles, the Eddystone, the Three Chimneys, the Hen and Chickens,
+the Bishop and Clerks. The strange atmospheric phenomena, especially of
+the tropics, have been christened by the Spaniard and Portuguese, the
+Corposant, the Pampero, the Tornado, the Hurricane. Then follows a host
+of words of which the derivation is doubtful,--such as sea, mist, foam,
+scud, rack. Their monosyllabic character may only be the result of that
+clipping and trimming which words get on shipboard. Your seaman's
+tongue is a true bed of Procrustes for the unhappy words that roll over
+it. They are docked without mercy, or, now and then, when not properly
+mouth-filling, they are "spliced" with a couple of vowels. It is
+impossible to tell the whys and wherefores of sea-prejudices.
+
+We have now indicated the main sources of the ocean-language. As new
+nations are received into the nautical brotherhood, and as new
+improvements are made, new terms come in. The whole whaling diction is
+the contribution of America, or rather of Nantucket, New Bedford, and
+New London, aided by the islands of the Pacific and the mongrel Spanish
+ports of the South Seas. Here and there an adventurous genius coins a
+phrase for the benefit of posterity,--as we once heard a mate order a
+couple of men to "go forrard and trim the ship's whiskers," to the
+utter bewilderment of his captain, who, in thirty years' following of
+the sea, had never heard the martingale chains and stays so designated.
+But the source of the great body of the sea-language might be marked
+out on the map by a current flowing out of the Straits of Gibraltar and
+meeting a similar tide from the Baltic, the two encountering and
+blending in the North Sea and circling Great Britain, while not
+forgetting to wash the dykes of Holland as they go. How to distinguish
+the work of each, in founding the common tongue, is not here our
+province.
+
+It would be difficult to classify the words in nautical
+use,--impossible here to do more than hint at such a possibility. A
+specimen or two will show the situation of the present tongue, and the
+blending process already gone through with. We need not dip for this so
+far into the tar-bucket as to bother (_nauticè_, "galley") the
+landsman. We will take terms familiar to all. The three masts of a ship
+are known as "fore," "main," and "mizzen." Of these, the first is
+English, the second Norman-French, the third Italian (_mezzano_). To go
+from masts to sails, we have "duck" from the Swedish _duk_, and
+"canvas" from the Mediterranean languages,--from the root _canna_, a
+cane or reed,--thence a cloth of reeds or rushes, a mat-sail,--hence
+any sail. Of the ends of a ship, "stern" is from the Saxon _stearn_,
+steering-place; "stem," from the German _stamm_. The whole family of
+ropes--of which, by the way, it is a common saying, that there are but
+three to a ship, namely, _bolt_-rope, _bucket_-rope, and _man_-rope,
+all the rest of the cordage being called by its special name, as
+_tack_, _sheet_, _clew-line_, _bow-line_, _brace_, _shroud_, or
+_stay_--the whole family of ropes are akin only by marriage. "Cable" is
+from the Semitic root _kebel_, to cord, and is the same in all nautical
+uses. "Hawser"--once written _halser_--is from the Baltic stock,--the
+rope used for halsing or hauling along; while "painter," the small rope
+by which a boat is temporarily fastened, is Irish,--from _painter_, a
+snare. "Sheet" is Italian,--from _scotta_; "brace" French, and "stay"
+English. "Clew" is Saxon; "garnet" (from _granato_, a fruit) is
+Italian,--that is, the garnet- or pomegranate-shaped block fastened to
+the clew or corner of the courses, and hence the rope running through
+the block. Then we find in the materials used in stopping leaks the
+same diversity. "Pitch" one easily gets from _pix_ (Latin); "tar" as
+easily from the Saxon _tare_, _tyr_. "Junk," old rope, is from the
+Latin _juncus_, a bulrush,--the material used along the Mediterranean
+shore for calking; "oakum," from the Saxon _oecumbe_, or hemp. The verb
+"calk" may come from the Danish _kalk_, chalk,--to rub over,--or from
+the Italian _calafatare_. The now disused verb "to pay" is from the
+Italian _pagare_;--it survives only in the nautical aphorism, "Here's
+the Devil to _pay_,"--that is, to pitch the ship,--"and no pitch hot."
+In handing the sails, "to loose" is good English,--"to furl" is
+Armorican, and belongs to the Mediterranean class of words. "To rake,"
+which is applied to spars, is from the Saxon _racian_, to incline;--"to
+steeve," which is applied to the bowsprit, and often pronounced
+"stave," is from the Italian _stivare_. When we get below-decks, we
+find "cargo" to be Spanish,--while "ballast" (from _bat_, a boat, and
+_last_, a load) is Saxon. A ship in ballast comes from the Baltic,--a
+vessel and cargo from the Bay of Biscay. Sailors must eat; but there is
+a significant distinction between merchant-seamen and man-o'-war's-men.
+The former is provided for at the "caboose," or "camboose," (Dutch,
+_kombuis_); the latter goes to the "galley," (Italian, _galera_, in
+helmet, primitively). This distinction is fast dying out,--the naval
+term superseding the mercantile,--just as in America the title
+"captain" has usurped the place of the more precise and orthodox term,
+"master," which is now used only in law-papers. The "bowsprit" is a
+compound of English and Dutch. The word "yard" is English; the word
+"boom," Dutch. The word "reef" is Welsh, from _rhevu_, to thicken or
+fold; "tack" and "sheet" are both Italian; "deck" is German. Other
+words are the result of contractions. Few would trace in "dipsey," a
+sounding-lead, the words "deep sea"; or in "futtocks" the combination
+"foot-hooks,"--the name of the connecting-pieces of the floor-timbers
+of a ship. "Breast-hook" has escaped contraction. Sailors have, indeed,
+a passion for metamorphosing words,--especially proper names. Those lie
+a little out of our track; but two instances are too good to be
+omitted:--The "Bellerophon," of the British navy, was always known as
+the "Bully-ruffian," and the "Ville de Milan," a French prize, as the
+"Wheel-'em-along." Here you have a random bestowal of names which seems
+to defy all analysis of the rule of their bestowal.
+
+If the reader inclines to follow up the scent here indicated, we can
+add a hint or two which may be of service. We have shown the sources,
+which should, for purposes of classification, be designated, not as
+English, Italian, Danish, etc., but nautically, as Mediterranean,
+Baltic, or Atlantic. These three heads will serve for general
+classification, to which must be added a fourth or "off-soundings"
+department, into which should go all words suggested by whim or
+accidental resemblances,--such terms as "monkey-rail," "Turk's head,"
+"dead-eye," etc.,--or which get the name of an inventor, as a
+"Matthew-Walker knot." More than that cannot well be given without
+going into the whole detail of naval history, tactics, and science,--a
+thing, of course, impossible here.
+
+This brings us to another view of the subject, which may serve for
+conclusion. A great many people take upon themselves to act for and
+about the sailor, to preach to him, make laws for him, act as his
+counsel, write tracts for him, and generally to look after his moral
+and physical well-being. Now eleven out of every dozen of these are
+continually making themselves ridiculous by an utter ignorance of all
+nautical matters. They pick up a few worn-out phrases of sea-life,
+which have long since left the forecastle, and which have been bandied
+about from one set of landsmen to another, have been dropped by
+sham-sailors begging on fictitious wooden-legs, then by small
+sea-novelists, handed to smaller dramatists for the Wapping class of
+theatres, to be by them abandoned to the smallest writers of pirate and
+privateer tales for the Sunday press. And stringing these together,
+with a hazy apprehension of their meaning, they think they are "talking
+sailor" in great perfection. Now the sailor will talk with pleasure to
+any straightforward and perfectly "green" landsman, and the two will
+converse in an entirely intelligible manner. But confusion worse
+confounded is the result of this ambitious ignorance,--confusion of
+brain to the sailor, and confusion of face to the landsman.
+
+For the sea has a language, beyond a peradventure,--an exceedingly
+arbitrary, technical, and perplexing one, unless it be studied with the
+illustrated grammar of the full-rigged ship before one, with the added
+commentaries of the sea and the sky and the coast chart. To learn to
+speak it requires about as long as to learn to converse passably in
+French, Italian, or Spanish; and unless it be spoken well, it is
+exceedingly absurd to any appreciative listener.
+
+If you desire to study it philologically, after the living manner of
+Dean Trench, it will well repay you. If you desire to use it as a
+familiar vehicle of discourse, wherewith to impress the understanding
+and heart of the sailor, you undertake a very difficult thing. For
+though men are moved best by apt illustrations from the things familiar
+to them, _un_apt illustrations most surely disgust them.
+
+But if you earnestly desire it, we know of but one certain course,
+which is best explained in a brief anecdote. An English gentleman, who
+was in all the agonies of a rough and tedious passage from Folkestone
+to Boulogne, was especially irritated by the aggravating nonchalance of
+a fellow-passenger, who perpetrated all manner of bilious feats, in
+eating, drinking, and smoking, unharmed. English reserve and the agony
+of sea-sickness long contended in Sir John's breast. At last the latter
+conquered, and, leaning from the window of his travelling-carriage,
+which was securely lashed to the forward deck of the steamer, he
+exclaimed,--"I say, d'ye know, I'd give a guinea to know your secret
+for keeping well in this infernal Channel." The traveller solemnly
+extended one hand for the money, and, as it dropped into his palm, with
+the other shaded his mouth, that no portion of the oracle might fall on
+unpaid-for ears, and whispered,--"Hark ye, brother, GO TO SEA TWENTY
+YEARS, AS I HAVE."
+
+
+
+THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME.
+
+
+"And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges."--TWELFTH
+NIGHT.
+
+My friend Jameson, the lawyer, has frequently whiled away an evening in
+relating incidents which occurred in his practice during his residence
+in a Western State. On one occasion he gave a sketch of a criminal
+trial in which he was employed as counsel; the story, as developed in
+court and completed by one of the parties subsequently, made so
+indelible an impression on my mind that I am constrained to write down
+its leading features. At the same time, I must say, that, if I had
+heard it without a voucher for its authenticity, I should have regarded
+it as the most improbable of fictions. But the observing reader will
+remember that remarkable coincidences, and the signal triumph of the
+right, called poetical justice, are sometimes seen in actual life as
+well as in novels.
+
+The tale must begin in Saxony. Carl Proch was an honest farmer, who
+tilled a small tract of crown land and thereby supported his aged
+mother. Faithful to his duties, he had never a thought of discontent,
+but was willing to plod on in the way his father had gone before him.
+Filial affection, however, did not so far engross him as to prevent his
+casting admiring glances on the lovely Katrine, daughter of old
+Rauchen, the miller; and no wonder, for she was as fascinating a damsel
+as ever dazzled and perplexed a bashful lover. She had admiration
+enough, for to see her was to love her; many of the village youngsters
+had looked unutterable things as they met her at May-feasts and
+holidays, but up to this time she had received no poetical epistles nor
+direct proposals, and was as cheerful and heart-free as the birds that
+sang around her windows. Her father was the traditional guardian of
+beauty, surly as the mastiff that watched his sacks of flour and his
+hoard of thalers; and though he doted on his darling Katrine, his heart
+to all the world beside seemed to be only a chip from one of his old
+mill-stones. When Carl thought of the severe gray eyes that shot such
+glances at all lingering youths, the difficulty of winning the pretty
+heiress seemed to be quite enough, even with a field clear of rivals.
+But two other suitors now made advances, more or less openly, and poor
+Carl thought himself entirely overshadowed. One was Schönfeld, the most
+considerable farmer in the neighborhood, a widower, with hair beginning
+to show threads of silver, and a fierce man withal, who was supposed to
+have once slain a rival, wearing thereafter a seam in his cheek as a
+souvenir of the encounter. The other was Hans Stolzen, a carpenter,
+past thirty, a shrewd, well-to-do fellow, with nearly a thousand
+thalers saved from his earnings. Carl had never fought a duel,--and he
+had not saved so much as a thousand groschen, to say nothing of
+thalers; he had only a manly figure, a cheery, open face, the freshness
+of one-and-twenty, and a heart incapable of guile. Katrine was not long
+in discovering these excellences, and, if his boldness had equalled his
+passion, she would have shown him how little she esteemed the
+pretensions of the proud landholder or the miserly carpenter. But he
+took it for granted that he was a fool to contend against such odds,
+and, buttoning his jacket tightly over his throbbing heart, toiled away
+in his little fields, thinking that the whole world had never contained
+so miserable a man.
+
+Hans Stolzen was the first to propose. He began by paying court to the
+jealous Rauchen himself, set forth his property and prospects, and
+asked to become his son-in-law. The miller heard him, puffed long
+whiffs, and answered civilly, but without committing himself. He was in
+no hurry to part with the only joy he had, and, as Katrine was barely
+eighteen, he naturally thought there would be time enough to consider
+of her marriage hereafter. Hans hardly expected anything more decisive,
+and, as he had not been flatly refused, came frequently to the house
+and chatted with her father, while his eyes followed the vivacious
+Katrine as she tripped about her household duties. But Hans was
+perpetually kept at a distance; the humming-bird would never alight
+upon the outstretched hand. He had not the wit to see that their
+natures had nothing in common, although he did know that Katrine was
+utterly indifferent towards him, and after some months of hopeless
+pursuit he began to grow sullenly angry. He was not long without an
+object on which to vent his rage.
+
+One evening, as Katrine was returning homeward, she chanced to pass
+Carl's cottage. Carl was loitering under a tree hard by, listening to
+the quick footsteps to which his heart kept time. It was the coming of
+Fate to him, for he had made up his mind to tell her of the love that
+was consuming him. Two days before, with tears on his bashful face, he
+had confided all to his mother; and, at her suggestion, he had now
+provided a little present by way of introduction. Katrine smiled
+sweetly as she approached, for, with a woman's quick eye, she had read
+his glances long before. His lips at first rebelled, but he struggled
+out a salutation, and, the ice once broken, he found himself strangely
+unembarrassed. He breathed freely. It seemed to him that their
+relations must have been fixed in some previous state of existence, so
+natural was it to be in familiar and almost affectionate communication
+with the woman whom before he had loved afar off, as a page might sigh
+for a queen.
+
+"Stay, Katrine," he said,--"I had nearly forgotten." He ran hastily
+into the cottage, and soon returned with a covered basket. "See,
+Katrine, these white rabbits!--are they not pretty?"
+
+"Oh, the little pets!" exclaimed Katrine. "Are they yours?"
+
+"No, Katrinchen,--that is, they were mine; now they are yours."
+
+"Thank you, Carl. I shall love them dearly."
+
+"For my sake?"
+
+"For their own, Carl, certainly; for yours also,--a little."
+
+"Good-bye, Bunny," said he, patting the head of one of the rabbits.
+"Love your mistress; and, mind, little whitey, don't keep those long
+ears of yours for nothing; tell me if you ever hear anything about me."
+
+"Perhaps Carl had better come and hear for himself,--don't you think
+so, Bunny?" said Katrine, taking the basket.
+
+The tone and manner said more than the words. Carl's pulses bounded; he
+seized her unresisting hand and covered it with kisses. "So! this is
+the bashful young man!" thought Katrine. "I shall not need to encourage
+him any more, surely."
+
+The night was coming on; Katrine remembered her father, and started
+towards the mill, whose broad arms could scarcely be seen through the
+twilight. Carl accompanied her to the gate, and, after a furtive glance
+upward to the house-windows, bade her farewell, with a kiss, and turned
+homeward, feeling himself a man for the first time in his life.
+
+Frau Proch had seen the pantomime through the flowers that stood on the
+window-sill, not ill-pleased, and was waiting her son's return. An hour
+passed, and he did not come. Another hour, and she began to grow
+anxious. When it was near midnight, she roused her nearest neighbor and
+asked him to go towards the mill and look for Carl. An hour of terrible
+suspense ensued. It was worse than she had even feared. Carl lay by the
+roadside, not far from the mill, insensible, covered with blood,
+moaning feebly at first, and afterwards silent, if not breathless.
+Ghastly wounds covered his head, and his arms and shoulders were livid
+with bruises. The neighboring peasants surrounded the apparently
+lifeless body, and listened with awe to the frenzied imprecations of
+Frau Proch upon the murderer of her son. "May he die in a foreign
+land," said she, lifting her withered hands to Heaven, "without wife to
+nurse him or priest to speak peace to his soul! May his body lie
+unburied, a prey for wolves and vultures! May his inheritance pass into
+the hands of strangers, and his name perish from the earth!" They
+muttered their prayers, as they encountered her bloodshot, but tearless
+eyes, and left her with her son.
+
+For a whole day and night he did not speak; then a violent brain-fever
+set in, and he raved continually. He fancied himself pursued by Hans
+Stolzen, and recoiled as from the blows of his staff. When this was
+reported, suspicion was directed at once to Stolzen as the criminal;
+but before an arrest could be made, it was found that he had fled. His
+disappearance confirmed the belief of his guilt. In truth, it was the
+rejected suitor, who, in a fit of jealous rage, had waylaid his rival
+in the dark, beat him, and left him for dead.
+
+Katrine, who had always disliked Stolzen, especially after he had
+pursued her with his coarse and awkward gallantry, now naturally felt a
+warmer affection for the victim of his brutality. She threw off all
+disguise, and went frequently to Frau Proch's cottage, to aid in
+nursing the invalid during his slow and painful recovery. She had, one
+day, the unspeakable pleasure of catching the first gleam of returning
+sanity in her hapless lover, as she bent over him and with gentle
+fingers smoothed his knotted forehead and temples. An indissoluble tie
+now bound them together; their mutual love was consecrated by suffering
+and sacrifice; and they vowed to be faithful in life and in death.
+
+When Carl at length became strong and commenced labor, he hoped
+speedily to claim his betrothed, and was waiting a favorable
+opportunity to obtain her father's consent to their marriage. The scars
+were the only evidence of the suffering he had endured. No bones had
+been broken, and he was as erect and as vigorous as before the assault.
+But Carl, most unfortunate of men, was not destined so soon to enjoy
+the happiness for which he hoped,--the love that had called him back to
+life. As the robber eagle sits on his cliff, waiting till the hawk has
+seized the ring-dove, then darts down and beats off the captor, that he
+may secure for himself the prize,--so Schönfeld, not uninformed of what
+was going on, stood ready to pounce upon the suitor who should gain
+Katrine's favor, and sweep the last rival out of the way. An officer in
+the king's service appeared in the village to draw the conscripts for
+the army, and the young men trembled like penned-up sheep at the
+entrance of the blood-stained butcher, not knowing who would be seized
+for the shambles. The officer had apparently been a friend and
+companion of Schönfeld's in former days, and passed some time at his
+house. It was perhaps only a coincidence, but it struck the neighbors
+as very odd at least, that Carl Proch was the first man drawn for the
+army. He had no money to hire a substitute, and there was no
+alternative; he must serve his three years. This last blow was too much
+for his poor mother. Worn down by her constant assiduity in nursing
+him, and overcome by the sense of utter desolation, she sunk into her
+grave, and was buried on the very day that Carl, with the other
+recruits, was marched off.
+
+What new torture the betrothed Katrine felt is not to be told. Three
+years were to her an eternity; and her imagination called up such
+visions of danger from wounds, privations, and disease, that she parted
+from her lover as though it were forever. The miller found that the
+light and the melody of his house were gone. Katrine was silent and
+sorrowful; her frame wasted and her step grew feeble. To all his offers
+of condolence she made no reply, except to remind him how with tears
+she had besought his interference in Carl's behalf. She would not be
+comforted. The father little knew the feeling she possessed; he had
+thought that her attachment to her rustic lover was only a girlish
+fancy, and that she would speedily forget him; but now her despairing
+look frightened him. To the neighbors, who looked inquisitively as he
+sat by the mill-door, smoking, he complained of the quality of his
+tobacco, vowing that it made his eyes so tender that they watered upon
+the slightest whiff.
+
+For six months Schönfeld wisely kept away; that period, he thought,
+would be long enough to efface any recollection of the absent soldier.
+Then he presented himself, and, in his usual imperious way, offered his
+hand to Katrine. The miller was inclined to favor his suit. In wealth
+and position Schönfeld was first in the village; he would be a powerful
+ally, and a very disagreeable enemy. In fact, Rauchen really feared to
+refuse the demand; and he plied his daughter with such argument as he
+could command, hoping to move her to accept the offer. Katrine,
+however, was convinced of the truth of her former suspicion, that Carl
+was a victim of Schönfeld's craft; and her rejection of his proposal
+was pointed with an indignation which she took no pains to conceal. The
+old scar showed strangely white in his purple face, as he left the
+mill, vowing vengeance for the affront.
+
+Rauchen and his daughter were now more solitary than ever. The father
+had forgotten the roaring stories he used to tell to the neighboring
+peasants, over foaming flagons of ale, at the little inn; he sat at his
+mill-door and smoked incessantly. Katrine shunned the festivities in
+which she was once queen, and her manner, though kindly, was silent and
+reserved; she went to church, it is true, but she wore a look of
+settled sorrow that awed curiosity and even repelled sympathy. But
+scandal is a plant that needs no root in the earth; like the houseleek,
+it can thrive upon air; and those who separate themselves the most
+entirely from the world are apt, for that very reason, to receive the
+larger share of its attention. The village girls looked first with
+pity, then with wonder, and at length with aversion, upon the gentle
+and unfortunate Katrine. Careless as she was with regard to public
+opinion, she saw not without pain the altered looks of her old
+associates, and before long she came to know the cause. A cruel
+suspicion had been whispered about, touching her in a most tender
+point. It was not without reason, so the gossip ran, that she had
+refused so eligible an offer of marriage Schönfeld's. The story reached
+the ears of Rauchen, at last. With a fierce energy, such as he had
+never exhibited before, he tracked it from cottage to cottage, until he
+came to Schönfeld's housekeeper, who refused to give her authority. The
+next market-day Rauchen encountered the former suitor and publicly
+charged him with the slander, in such terms as his baseness deserved.
+Schönfeld, thrown off his guard by the sudden attack, struck his
+adversary a heavy blow; but the miller rushed upon him, and left him to
+be carried home, a bundle of aches and bruises. After this the tongues
+of the gossips were quiet; no one was willing to answer for guesses or
+rumors at the end of Rauchen's staff; and the father and daughter
+resumed their monotonous mode of life.
+
+The three years at length passed, and Carl Proch returned home,--a
+trifle more sedate, perhaps, but the same noble, manly fellow. How
+warmly he was received by the constant Katrine it is not necessary to
+relate. Rauchen was not disposed to thwart his long-suffering daughter
+any further; and with his consent the young couple were speedily
+married, and lived in his house. The gayety of former years came back;
+cheerful songs and merry laughter were heard in the lately silent
+rooms. Rauchen himself grew younger, especially after the birth of a
+grandson, and often resumed his old place at the inn, telling the old
+stories with the old _gusto_ over the ever-welcome ale. But one
+morning, not long after, he was found dead in his bed; a smile was on
+his face, and his limbs were stretched out as in peaceful repose.
+
+There was no longer any tie to bind Carl to his native village. All his
+kin, as well as Katrine's, were in the grave. He was not bred a miller,
+and did not feel competent to manage the mill. Besides, his mind had
+received new ideas while he was in the army. He had heard of countries
+where men were equal before the laws, where the peasant owed no
+allegiance but to society. The germ of liberty had been planted in his
+breast, and he could no longer live contented with the rank in which he
+had been born. At least he wished that his children might grow up free
+from the chilling influences that had fallen upon him. At his earnest
+persuasion, Katrine consented that the mill should be sold, and soon
+after, with his wife and child, he went to Bremen and embarked for
+America.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We must now follow the absconding Stolzen, who, with his bag of
+thalers, had made good his escape into England. He lived in London,
+where he found society among his countrymen. His habitual shrewdness
+never deserted him, and from small beginnings he gradually amassed a
+moderate fortune. His first experiment in proposing for a wife
+satisfied him, but in a great city his sensual nature was fully
+developed. His brutal passions were unchecked; conscience seemed to
+have left him utterly. At length he began to think about quitting
+London. He was afraid to return to Germany, for, as he had left Carl to
+all appearance dead, he thought the officers of the law would seize
+him. He determined to go to Australia, and secured a berth in a clipper
+ship bound for Melbourne, but some accident prevented his reaching the
+pier in season; the vessel sailed without him, and was never heard of
+afterwards. Then he proposed to buy an estate in Canada; but the owner
+failed to make his appearance at the time appointed for the
+negotiation, and the bargain was not completed. At last he took passage
+for New York, whither a Hebrew acquaintance of his had gone, a year or
+two before, and was established as a broker. Upon arriving in that
+city, Stolzen purchased of an agent a tract of land in a Western State,
+situated on the shore of Lake Michigan; and after reserving a sum of
+money for immediate purposes, he deposited his funds with his friend,
+the broker, and started westward. He travelled the usual route by rail,
+then a short distance in a mail-coach, which carried him within six
+miles of his farm. Leaving his luggage to be sent for, he started to
+walk the remaining distance. It was a sultry day, and the prairie road
+was anything but pleasant to a pedestrian unaccustomed to heat and
+dust. After walking less than an hour, he determined to stop at a small
+house near the road, for rest, and some water to quench his thirst; but
+as he approached, the baying hounds, no less than the squalid children
+about the door, repelled him, and he went on to the next house. He now
+turned down a green lane, between rows of thrifty trees, to a neat
+log-cabin, whose nicely-plastered walls and the regular fence inclosing
+it testified to the thrift and good taste of the owner. He knocked; all
+was still. Again, and thirsty as he was, he was on the point of
+leaving, when he heard a step within. He waited; the door opened, and
+before him stood----Katrine!
+
+She did not know him; but he had not forgotten that voluptuous figure
+nor those melting blue eyes. He preferred his requests, looking through
+the doorway at the same time to make sure that she had no protector.
+Katrine brought the stranger a gourd of water, and offered him a chair.
+She did not see the baleful eyes he threw after her as she went about
+her household duties. Stolzen had dropped from her firmament like a
+fallen and forgotten star. Secure in her unsuspecting innocence, she
+chirruped to her baby and resumed her sewing.
+
+That evening, when Carl Proch returned from his field, after his usual
+hard day's labor, he found his wife on the floor, sobbing, speechless,
+and the child, unnoticed, crying in his cradle. His dog sat by the
+hearth with a look of almost intelligent sympathy, and whined as his
+master entered the room. He raised Katrine and held her in his arms
+like a child, covered her face with kisses, and implored her to speak.
+She seemed to be in a fearful dream, and shrunk from some imagined
+danger in the extremest terror. Gradually her sobs became less
+frequent, her tremors ceased, and she smiled upon the manly face that
+met hers, as though she had only suffered from an imaginary fright. But
+when she felt her hair floating upon her shoulders, saw the almost
+speaking face of the dog, Bruno, and became conscious of the cries of
+the neglected child, the wave of agony swept over her again, and she
+could utter only broken ejaculations. As word after word came from her
+lips, the unhappy husband's flesh tingled; his hair stiffened with
+horror; every nerve seemed to be strung with a new and maddening
+tension. There was for him no such thing as fatigue, no distance, no
+danger,--no law, no hereafter, no God. All thought and feeling were
+drowned in one wild desire for vengeance,--vengeance swift, terrible,
+and final.
+
+He first caressed the dog as though he had been a brother; he put his
+arms about the shaggy neck, and shook each faithful paw; he made his
+wife caress him also. "God be praised, dear Katrine, for your
+protector, the dog!" said he. "Come, now, Bruno!"
+
+Katrine saw him depart with his dog and gun; but if she guessed his
+errand, she did not dare remonstrate. He walked off rapidly,--the dog
+in advance, now and then baying as though he were on a trail.
+
+In the night he returned, and he smiled grimly as he set down the rifle
+in its accustomed corner. His wife was waiting for him with intense
+anxiety. It was marvellous to her that he was so cheerful. He trotted
+her upon his knee, pressed her a hundred times to his bosom, kissed her
+forehead, lips, and cheeks, called her his pretty Kate, his dear wife,
+and every endearing name he knew. So they sat, like lovers in their
+teens, till the purpling east told of a new day.
+
+The luggage of one Stolzen, a stagecoach passenger, remained at the
+tavern uncalled-for, for nearly a year. No one knew the man, and his
+disappearance, though a profound mystery, was not an uncommon thing in
+a new country. The Hebrew broker in New York received no answers to his
+letters, though he had carefully preserved the post-office address
+which Stolzen had given him. He began to fear lest he should be obliged
+to fulfil the duty of heirship to the property deposited with him. To
+quiet his natural apprehensions in view of this event, he determined to
+follow Stolzen's track, as much of it as lay in _this_ world, at least,
+and find out what had become of him. Upon arriving in the neighborhood,
+the Jew had a thorough search made. The country was scoured, and on the
+third day there was a discovery. A man walking on the sandy margin of a
+river, about two or three miles from Carl's house, saw a skull before
+him. As the steep bluff nearly overhung the spot where he stood, he
+conjectured that the body to which the skull belonged was to be found
+above on its verge. He climbed up, and there saw a headless skeleton.
+It was the body of Stolzen, as his memorandum-book and other articles
+showed. His pistol was in his pocket, and still loaded; that fact
+precluded the idea of suicide. Moreover, upon examining more closely, a
+bullet-hole was found in his breast-bone, around which the parts were
+broken _outwardly_, showing that the ball must have entered from
+behind. It was clear that Stolzen had been murdered.
+
+The curse of Frau Proch had been most terribly fulfilled.
+
+Circumstances soon pointed to Carl Proch as the perpetrator. A
+stranger, corresponding to the deceased in size and dress, had been
+seen, about the time of his disappearance, by the neighboring family,
+walking towards Proch's house; and on the evening of the same day an
+Irishman met Carl going at a rapid rate, with a gun on his shoulder, as
+though in furious pursuit of some one. A warrant for his arrest was
+issued, and he was lodged in jail to await his trial. If now the Hebrew
+had followed the _lex talionis_, after the manner of his race in
+ancient times, it might have fared badly with poor Carl. But as soon as
+the broker was satisfied beyond a peradventure that the depositor was
+actually dead, he hastened back to New York, joyful as a crow over a
+newly-found carcass, to administer upon the estate, leaving the law to
+take its own course with regard to the murderer.
+
+Beyond the two facts just mentioned as implicating Carl, nothing was
+proved at the trial. Jameson, the lawyer, whom I mentioned at the
+beginning of this story, was engaged for the defence. He found Carl
+singularly uncommunicative; and though the government failed to make
+out a shadow of a case against his client, he was yet puzzled in his
+own mind by Carl's silence, and his real or assumed indifference.
+Katrine was in court with her child in her arms, watching the
+proceedings with the closest attention; though she, as well as Carl,
+was unable to understand any but the most familiar and colloquial
+English. The case was speedily decided; the few facts presented to the
+jury appeared to have no necessary connection, and there was no known
+motive for the deed. The jury unanimously acquitted Carl, and with his
+wife and boy he left the court-room. The verdict was approved by the
+spectators, for no man in the neighborhood was more universally loved
+and respected than Carl Proch.
+
+Having paid Jameson his fee for his services, Carl was about to depart,
+when the lawyer's curiosity could be restrained no longer, and he
+called his client back to the private room of his office.
+
+"Carl," said he, "you look like a good fellow, above anything mean or
+wicked; but yet I don't know what to make of you. Now you are entirely
+through with this scrape; you are acquitted; and I want to know what is
+the meaning of it all. I will keep it secret from all your neighbors.
+Did you kill Stolzen, or not?"
+
+"Well, if I did," he answered, "can they do anything with me?"
+
+"No," said Jameson.
+
+"Not if I acknowledge?"
+
+"No, you have been acquitted by a jury; and by our law a man can never
+be tried twice for the same offence. You are safe, even if you should
+go into court and confess the deed."
+
+"Well, then, I did kill him,--and I would again!"
+
+For the moment, a fierce light gleamed upon the calm and kindly face.
+Then, feeling that his answer would give a false view of the case,
+without the previous history of the parties, Carl sat down and in his
+broken English told to his lawyer the story I have here attempted to
+record. It was impossible to doubt a word of it; for the simplicity and
+pathos of the narrative were above all art. Here was a simple case,
+which the boldest inventor of schemes to punish villany would have been
+afraid to use. Its truth is the thing that most startles the mind
+accustomed to deal with fictions.
+
+We leave Carl to return to his farm with his wife, for whom he had
+suffered so much, and with the hope that no further temptation may come
+to him in such a guise as almost to make murder a virtue.
+
+
+
+THE TELEGRAPH.
+
+  Thou lonely Bay of Trinity,
+    Ye bosky shores untrod,
+  Lean, breathless, to the white-lipped sea
+    And hear the voice of God!
+
+  From world to world His couriers fly,
+    Thought-winged and shod with fire;
+  The angel of His stormy sky
+    Rides down the sunken wire.
+
+  What saith the herald of the Lord?--
+    "The world's long strife is done!
+  Close wedded by that mystic cord,
+    Her continents are one.
+
+  "And one in heart, as one in blood,
+    Shall all her peoples be;
+  The hands of human brotherhood
+    Shall clasp beneath the sea.
+
+  "Through Orient seas, o'er Afric's plain,
+    And Asian mountains borne,
+  The vigor of the Northern brain
+    Shall nerve the world outworn.
+
+  "From clime to clime, from shore to shore,
+    Shall thrill the magic thread;
+  The new Prometheus steals once more
+    The fire that wakes the dead!
+
+  "Earth gray with age shall hear the strain
+    Which o'er her childhood rolled;
+  For her the morning stars again
+    Shall sing their song of old.
+
+  "For, lo! the fall of Ocean's wall,
+    Space mocked, and Time outrun!--
+  And round the world, the thought of all
+    Is as the thought of one!"
+
+  Oh, reverently and thankfully
+    The mighty wonder own!
+  The deaf can hear, the blind may see,
+    The work is God's alone.
+
+  Throb on, strong pulse of thunder! beat
+    From answering beach to beach!
+  Fuse nations in thy kindly heat,
+    And melt the chains of each!
+
+  Wild terror of the sky above,
+    Glide tamed and dumb below!
+  Bear gently, Ocean's carrier-dove,
+    Thy errands to and fro!
+
+  Weave on, swift shuttle of the Lord,
+    Beneath the deep so far,
+  The bridal robe of Earth's accord,
+    The funeral shroud of war!
+
+  The poles unite, the zones agree,
+    The tongues of striving cease;
+  As on the Sea of Galilee,
+    The Christ is whispering, "Peace!"
+
+
+
+THE BIRDS OF THE GARDEN AND ORCHARD.
+
+
+The singing-birds whose notes are familiar to us, in towns and villages
+and the suburbs of the city, are found in the breeding-season only in
+these places, and are strangers to the deep woods and solitary
+pastures. Most of our singing-birds follow in the wake of the pioneer
+of the wilderness, and increase in numbers with the clearing and
+settlement of the country,--not, probably, from any dependence on the
+protection of mankind, but on account of the increased abundance of the
+insect food upon which they subsist, consequent upon the tilling of the
+ground. It is well known that the labors of the husbandman cause an
+excessive multiplication of all those species of insects whose larvae
+are cherished in the soil, and of all that infest the orchard and
+garden. The farm is capable of supporting insects just in proportion to
+its capacity for producing corn and fruit. Insects will multiply with
+their means of subsistence in and upon the earth; and birds, if not
+destroyed by artificial methods, will increase in proportion to the
+multiplication of those insects which constitute their principal food.
+
+These considerations will sufficiently account for the fact, which
+often excites a little astonishment, that more singing-birds are found
+in the suburbs of the city, and among the parks and gardens of the
+city, than in the deep forest, where, even in the singing-season, the
+silence is sometimes melancholy. It is still to be remarked, that the
+species which are thus familiar in their habits do not include all the
+singing-birds, but they include all that are well known to the majority
+of our people. These are the birds of the garden and orchard. There are
+many other species, wild and solitary in their habits, which are
+delightful songsters in uncultivated regions remote from the town. But
+even these are rare in the depths of the forest. They live on the edge
+of the wood and in the half-wooded pasture.
+
+The birds of the garden and orchard have been frequently described, and
+their habits are very generally known; but in the usual descriptions
+little has been said of their powers and peculiarities of song. In the
+present sketches, I have given particular attention to the vocal powers
+of the different birds, and have endeavored to designate the parts
+which each one performs in the grand hymn of Nature. I shall first
+introduce the Song-Sparrow, (_Fringilla melodia_,) a little bird that
+is universally known and admired. The Song-Sparrow is the earliest
+visitant and the latest resident of the vocal tenants of the field. He
+is plain in his vesture, undistinguished from the female by any
+superiority of plumage, and comes forth in the spring and takes his
+departure in the autumn in the same suit of russet and gray by which he
+is always recognized.
+
+In March, before the violet has ventured to peep out from the southern
+knoll of the pasture or the sunny brow of the hill, while the northern
+skies are liable to pour down at any hour a storm of sleet and snow,
+the Song-Sparrow, beguiled by southern winds, has already made his
+appearance, and, on still mornings, may be heard warbling his few merry
+notes, as if to make the earliest announcement of his arrival. He is,
+therefore, the true harbinger of spring, and, though not the sweetest
+songster of the woods, has the merit of bearing to man the earliest
+tidings of the opening year, and of declaring the first vernal promises
+of Nature. As the notes of those birds that sing only in the night come
+with a double charm to our ears, because they are harmonized by silence
+and hallowed by the hour that is sacred to repose--in like manner does
+the Song-Sparrow delight us in tenfold measure, because he sings the
+sweet prelude to the universal hymn of Nature.
+
+His haunts are the pastures which have been half reduced to tillage,
+and are still partially filled with wild shrubbery; for he is not so
+familiar in his habits as the Hair-bird, that comes close up to our
+door-step, to find the crumbs that are swept from our tables. Though
+his voice is constantly heard in the garden and orchard, he selects a
+more retired spot for his nest, preferring not to trust his progeny to
+the doubtful mercy of the lords of creation. In some secure retreat,
+under a tussock of herbage or a tuft of shrubbery, the female sits upon
+her nest of soft dry grass, containing four or five eggs, of a greenish
+white ground, almost entirely covered with brownish specks. Commencing
+in April, she rears three broods of young during the season, and her
+mate prolongs his notes until the last brood has flown from the nest.
+
+The notes of the Song-Sparrow would not entitle him to be ranked among
+our principal singing-birds, were it not for the remarkable variations
+of his song, in which respect he is equalled, I think, by no other
+bird. Of these variations there are seven or eight which may be
+distinctly recognized, and differing enough to be considered separate
+tunes. The bird does not warble these in regular succession; he is in
+the habit of repeating one several times, and then leaves it, and
+repeats another in a similar manner. Mr. Paine[1] took note, on one
+occasion, of the number of times a Song-Sparrow sang each of the tunes,
+and the order of singing them. Of the tunes, as he had numbered them,
+the bird "sang No. 1, 27 times; No. 2, 36 times; No. 3, 23 times; No.
+4, 19 times; No. 5, 21 times; No. 6, 32 times; No. 7, 18 times. Perhaps
+next he would sing No. 2, then perhaps No. 4, or 5, and so on." Mr.
+Paine adds, "Some males will sing each tune about fifty times, though
+seldom; some will only sing them from five to ten times. But as far as
+I have observed, each male has his seven songs. I have applied the rule
+to as many as a dozen different birds, and the result has been the
+same."
+
+An individual will sometimes, for half a day, confine himself almost
+entirely to a few of these variations; but he will commonly sing each
+one more or less in the course of the day. I have observed also, that,
+when one principal singer takes up a particular tune, other birds in
+the vicinity will unite in the same. The several variations are mostly
+in triple time, a few in common time, and there is an occasional
+blending of both in the same tune, which consists usually of four bars
+or strains, sometimes five, though the song is frequently broken off at
+the end of the third strain. This habit of varying his notes through so
+many permutations, and the singularly fine intonations of many of them,
+entitle the Song-Sparrow to a very high rank as a singing-bird.
+
+There is a manifest difference in the expression of these several
+tunes. The one which I have marked as No. 3 is particularly plaintive,
+and is usually in common time. No. 2 is the one which I think is most
+frequently sung. No. 5 is querulous and entirely unmusical. There is a
+remarkable precision in the song of this bird, and the finest singers
+are those which, in the language of musicians, have the least
+execution. There are some individuals that blend their notes together
+so promiscuously, and use so many flourishes, that it is difficult to
+identify their song, or to perceive its expression. Whether these tunes
+of the Song-Sparrow express to his mate, or to others of his species,
+different sentiments, and convey different messages, or whether the
+bird adopts them for his own amusement, I have not been able to
+determine. Neither have I learned whether a certain hour of the day or
+a certain state of the weather predisposes him to sing a particular
+tune. This point may, perhaps, be determined by some future observer;
+and it may be ascertained that the birds of this species have their
+matins and their vespers, their songs of rejoicing and of complaining,
+of courtship when in presence of their mate, and of encouragement and
+solace when she is sitting upon her nest. As Nature has a benevolent
+and a definite object in every instinct which she has established among
+her creatures, it is not probable that this habit of the Song-Sparrow
+is the mere result of accident. All the variations of his song are
+given, with the specimens, at the end of this article, and, though
+individuals differ in their singing, the notes will afford the reader a
+good general idea of the several tunes.
+
+Soon after the arrival of the Song-Sparrow, when the spring-flowers
+have begun to be conspicuous in the meadow, we are greeted by the more
+fervent and lengthened notes of the Vesper-bird, (_Fringilla
+graminea_,) poured out with a peculiarly pensive modulation. This
+species closely resembles the former, but may be distinguished from it,
+when on the wing, by two white lateral feathers in the tail. The chirp
+of the Song-Sparrow is also louder, and pitched on a lower key, than
+that of the present species. By careless observers, these two Finches,
+on account of the similarity in their general appearance and habits,
+are considered identical. The Vesper-bird, however, is the least
+familiar of the two, and, when both are singing at the same time, will
+be found to occupy a position more remote from the house than the
+other. In several localities, these two species are distinguished by
+the names of Bush-Sparrow and Ground-Sparrow, from their supposed
+different habits of placing their nests, one in a bush and the other on
+the ground. But they do not in fact differ in this respect, as each
+species occasionally builds in both ways.
+
+The Vesper-bird attracts more general attention to his notes than the
+Sparrow, because he sings a longer, though a more monotonous song, and
+warbles with more fervency. His notes bear considerable resemblance to
+those of the Canary-bird, but they are more subdued and plaintive, and
+have a peculiar reedy sound, which is never perceived in the notes of
+the Canary. This bird is periodical in his habits of song, confining
+his lays to particular hours of the day and conditions of the weather.
+The Song-Sparrow, on the contrary, sings about equally from morning to
+night, and but little more at one hour than another; and the different
+performers of this species do not seem to join in concert. This habit
+renders the latter more companionable, at the same time it causes his
+notes to be less regarded than those of the Vesper-bird, who pours them
+forth more sparingly, and at regular periods.
+
+The Vesper-bird begins with all his kindred in a general concert at
+early dawn, after which they are comparatively silent until sunset,
+when they repeat their concert, with still greater zeal than they
+chanted in the morning. It is from this circumstance that it has
+obtained the name it bears--from its evening hymn, or vespers. I have
+heard this name applied to it only in one locality; but it is so
+precisely applicable to its habits, that I have thought it worthy of
+being retained as its distinguishing cognomen. There are particular
+states of the weather that frequently call out the birds of this
+species into a general concert at other periods of the day--as when
+rain is suddenly followed by sunshine, or when a clear sky is suddenly
+darkened by clouds, presenting to them a sort of occasional morn and
+occasional even. It may be remarked, that you seldom hear one of these
+birds singing alone; but when one begins, all others in the vicinity
+immediately join him.
+
+The usual resorts of the Vesper-bird are the pastures and the
+hay-fields; hence the name of Grass-Finch, by which he is usually
+distinguished. His voice is heard frequently by the rustic roadsides,
+where he picks up a considerable portion of his subsistence. This is
+the little bird that so generally serenades us during our evening
+walks, at a little distance from the town, and not so far into the
+woods as the haunts of the Thrushes. When we go out into the country,
+on pleasant days in June or July, at nightfall, we hear multitudes of
+them singing sweetly from a hundred different points in the fields and
+farms.
+
+Among the birds which are endowed by Nature with the gift of song in
+connection with gaudy plumage is the American Goldfinch, or Hemp-bird,
+(_Fringilla tristis_,) one of the most interesting and delicate of the
+feathered tribe. Of all our birds this bears the closest resemblance to
+the Canary, both in his plumage and in the notes of his song. He cannot
+be ranked with the finest of our songsters, being deficient in compass
+and variety. But he has great sweetness of tone, and is equalled by few
+birds in the rapidity of his execution. His note of complaint is
+exactly like that of the Canary, and is heard at almost all times of
+the year. He utters also, when flying, a very animated series of notes,
+during the repeated undulations of his night, and they seem to be
+uttered with each effort he makes to rise.
+
+It is remarkable that this bird, though he often rears two broods in a
+season, does not begin to build his nest until July, after the first
+broods of the Robin and the Song-Sparrow have flown from their nests.
+Mr. Augustus Fowler[2] is of opinion, from his observation of their
+habits of feeding their young, that the cause of this procrastination
+is, "that they would be unable to find, in the spring and early summer,
+those new and milky seeds which are the necessary food of their young,"
+and takes occasion to allude to that beneficent law of Nature which
+provides that these birds "should not bring forth their young until the
+very time when those seeds used by them for food have passed into the
+milk, in which state they are easily dissolved by the stomach, and when
+an abundant supply may always be found."
+
+The Hemp-birds are remarkable for associating at a certain season, and
+singing, as it were, in choirs. "During spring and summer," says Mr.
+Fowler, "they rove about in small flocks, and in July will assemble
+together in considerable numbers on a particular tree, seemingly for no
+other purpose than to sing. These concerts are held by them on the
+forenoon of each day, for a week or ten days, after which they soon
+commence building their nests. I am inclined to believe that this is
+their time of courtship, and that they have a purpose in these meetings
+beside that of singing. If perchance one is heard in the air, the males
+utter their call-note with great emphasis, particularly if the
+new-comer be a female; and while in her undulating flight she describes
+a circle, preparatory to alighting, they will stand almost erect, move
+their heads to the right and left, and burst simultaneously into song."
+
+While engaged in these concerts, it would seem as if they were governed
+by some rule, that enabled them to time their voices, and to swell or
+diminish the volume of sound. Some of this effect is undoubtedly
+produced by the gradual manner in which the different voices join in
+harmony, beginning with one or two, and increasing in numbers in a sort
+of geometrical progression, until all are singing at once, and then in
+the same gradual manner becoming silent. This produces the effect of a
+perfect _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_. Beginning, as it seems, at a
+distance, one voice leads on another, and the numbers multiply until
+they make a loud shout, which dies away gradually until one single
+voice winds up the chorus. These concerts are repeated at intervals,
+sometimes for an hour in duration.
+
+Another peculiar habit of the Hemp-bird is that of building a nest, and
+then tearing it to pieces before any eggs have been deposited in it,
+and using the materials to make a new nest in another locality. In
+former years I have repeatedly watched this singular operation, in the
+Lombardy poplars that stood before my study-windows. I have thought
+that the male bird only was addicted to this practice, and that this
+might be his method of amusement while unprovided with a partner. The
+nest of the Hemp-bird is made of cotton, the down of the fern, and
+other soft materials, woven together with threads and the fibres of
+bark, and lined with thistle-down, if it be late enough to obtain it,
+and sometimes with cow's hair. It is commonly placed in the fork of the
+slender branches of a maple, linden, or poplar, and is fastened to them
+with singular ingenuity.
+
+Among the earliest songsters of spring, occasionally tuning his voice
+before the arrival of the multitudinous choir, is the Crimson Finch or
+American Linnet (_Fringilla purpurea_). I have frequently heard his
+notes on warm days in March, and once, in a very mild season, I heard
+one warbling cheerily on the 18th of February. But the Linnet does not
+persevere like the Song-Sparrow, after he has once commenced. His voice
+is only occasionally heard, until the middle of April, after which he
+is a very constant singer.
+
+The notes of this bird are very simple and melodious, and some
+individuals greatly excel others in their powers of song. It is
+generally believed that the young males are the best singers, and that
+age diminishes their vocal capacity. The greater number utter only a
+few strains, resembling the notes of the Warbling Fly-catcher, (_Vireo
+gilvus_,) and these are constantly repeated during the greater part of
+the day. His song consists of four or five bars or strains; but there
+are individuals that extend them _ad libitum_, varying their notes
+after the manner of the Canary. The latter, however, sings with more
+precision, and is louder and shriller in his tones. I have not observed
+that this bird is more prone to sing in the morning and evening than at
+noonday and at all hours.
+
+I have alluded to the fact that the finest singing-birds build their
+nests and seek their food either on the ground or among the shrubbery
+and the lower branches of trees, and that, when singing, they are
+commonly perched rather low. The Linnet is an exception to this general
+habit of the singing-birds, and, in company with the Warbling
+Fly-catchers, he is commonly high up in an elm or some other tall tree,
+and almost entirely out of sight, when exercising himself in song. It
+is this preference for the higher branches of trees that enables these
+birds, as well as the Golden Robin, to be denizens of the city. Hence
+they may be heard singing as freely and melodiously from the trees on
+Boston Common as in the wild-wood or orchard in the country.
+
+I have seen the Linnet frequently in confinement; but he does not sing
+so well in a cage as in a state of freedom. His finest and most
+prolonged strains are delivered while on the wing. On such occasions
+only does he sing with fervor. While perched on a tree, his song is
+short and not greatly varied. If you closely watch his movements when
+he is singing, he may be seen on a sudden to take flight, and, while
+poising himself in the air, though still advancing, he pours out a
+continued strain of melody, not surpassed by the notes of any other
+bird. On account of the infrequency of these occasions, it is seldom we
+have an opportunity to witness a full exhibition of the musical powers
+of the Linnet.
+
+The male American Linnet is crimson on the head, neck, and throat,
+dusky on the upper part of its body, and beneath somewhat
+straw-colored. It is remarkable that a great many individuals are
+destitute of this color, being plainly clad, like the female. These are
+supposed to be old birds, and the loss of color is attributed to age.
+The same change takes place when the bird is confined.
+
+The little bird whose notes serve more than those of any other species
+to enliven the summer noondays in our villages is the House-Wren
+(_Troglodytes fulvus_). It is said to reside and rear its young chiefly
+in the Middle States; but it is far from being uncommon in
+Massachusetts, and, as it extends its summer migrations to Labrador, it
+is probable that it breeds there also. It is evident, however, that its
+breeding-places are not confined to northern latitudes. It is a
+migratory bird, is never seen here in winter, but commonly arrives in
+May and returns south early in October. It builds in a hollow tree,
+like the Blue-bird, or in a box or other vessel provided for it, and by
+furnishing such accommodations we may easily entice one to make its
+home in our inclosures.
+
+The Wren is a very active bird, and one of the most restless of the
+feathered tribe. He is continually in motion, and even when singing he
+is always flitting about and changing his position. We see him in
+almost all places, as it were, at the same moment of time,--now
+warbling in ecstasy from the roof of a shed, then, with his wings
+spread and feathers ruffled, scolding furiously at a Blue-bird or a
+Swallow that has alighted on his box, or driving a Robin from a
+cherry-tree that stands near his habitation. The next instant we
+observe him running along on a stone wall, and diving down and in and
+out, from one side to the other, through the openings between the
+stories, with all the nimbleness of a squirrel. He is on the ridge of
+the barn-roof, he is peeping into the dove-cote, he is in the garden
+under the currant-bushes, or chasing a spider or a moth under a
+cabbage-leaf; again he is on the roof of the shed, warbling
+vociferously; and all these manoeuvres and peregrinations have occupied
+hardly a minute, so rapid and incessant is he in his motions.
+
+The notes of the Wren are very lively and garrulous, and, if not
+uttered more frequently during the heat of the day, are certainly more
+noticeable at this hour. There is a concert at noonday, as well as in
+the morning and evening, among the birds, and in the former the Wren is
+one of the principal musicians. After the full rays of the sun have
+silenced the early performers, the Song-Sparrow and the Red Thrush
+continue to sing, at intervals, the greater part of the day. The Wren
+is likewise heard at all hours; but when the languishing heat of noon
+has arrived, and most of the birds are silent, the few that continue to
+sing become more than usually vocal, and seem to form a select company.
+They appear, indeed, to prefer the noonday, because the general silence
+that prevails at this hour renders their voices more distinguishable
+than at other times. The birds which are thus, as it were, associated
+with the Wren, in this noonday concert, are the Bobolink, the Cat-bird,
+and the two Warbling Fly-catchers, occasionally joined by the few and
+simple notes of the Summer Yellow-bird. If we are in the vicinity of
+the deep woods, we may also hear, at this hour, the loud and shrill
+voice of the Golden-Crowned Thrush, a bird that is partial to the heat
+of noon.
+
+Of all these, however, the Wren is the most remarkable, having a note
+that is singularly varied and animated. He exhibits great compass and
+power of execution, but wants variety in his tones. He begins very
+sharp and shrill, like a grasshopper, then suddenly falls to a series
+of low guttural notes, and ascends, like the rolling of a drum, to
+another series of high notes, rapidly trilled. Almost without a pause,
+he recommences with his querulous insect-chirp, and proceeds through
+the same trilling and demi-semiquavering as before. He is not
+particular about the part of the song which he makes his closing note,
+but will leave off right in the middle of a strain, when he appears to
+be in the height of ecstasy, to pick up a spider or a fly.
+
+As the Wren raises two broods of young in a season, his notes are
+prolonged to a late period of the summer, being frequently heard in the
+second or third week in August. He leaves for a southern clime about
+the first of October. In his migratory habits he differs from the
+European Wren, which is a constant resident in his native regions.
+
+Our American birds, like the American flowers, have not been celebrated
+in classic song. They are scarcely known, except to our own people, and
+they have not in general been exalted by praise above their real
+merits. We read, both in prose and verse, the praises of the European
+Lark, Linnet, and Nightingale, and the English Robin Redbreast has been
+immortalized in song. But the American Robin, (_Turdus migratorius_,)
+though surnamed Redbreast, is a bird of different species and different
+habits. Little has been written about him, and he enjoys but little
+celebrity; he has never been puffed and overpraised, and, though
+universally admired, the many who admire him are diffident all the
+while, lest they are mistaken in their judgment and are wasting their
+admiration upon an object that is unworthy of it, and whose true merits
+fall short of their own estimate.
+
+I shall not ask pardon of those critics who are always canting about
+genius--and who would probably deny this gift to the Robin, because he
+cannot cry like a chicken or squall like a cat, and because with his
+charming strains he does not mingle all sorts of discords and
+incongruous sounds--for assigning to the Robin the highest rank as a
+singing-bird. Let them say of him, in the cant of modern criticism,
+that his performances cannot be great, because they are faultless; it
+is enough for me, that his mellow notes, heard at the earliest flush of
+morning, in the more busy hour of noon, or the quiet lull of evening,
+come upon the ear in a stream of unqualified melody, as if he had
+learned to sing under the direct instruction of that beautiful Dryad
+who taught the Lark and the Nightingale. The Robin is surpassed by
+certain birds in some particular qualities. The Mocking-bird has more
+power, the Red Thrush more variety, the Vesper-bird more execution, and
+the Bobolink more animation; but each of these birds has more faults
+than the Robin, and would be less esteemed as a constant companion, a
+vocalist for all hours, whose strains never tire and never offend.
+
+There are thousands who admire the Mocking-bird, because, after pouring
+forth a continued stream of ridiculous and disagreeable sounds, or a
+series of two or three notes repeated more than a hundred times in
+uninterrupted and monotonous succession, he condescends to utter a
+single delightfully modulated strain. He often brings his tiresome
+_extravaganzas_ to a magnificent climax of melody, and just as often
+concludes an inimitable chant with a most contemptible bathos. But the
+notes of the Robin are all melodious, all delightful,--loud without
+vociferation, mellow without monotony, fervent without ecstasy, and
+combining more of mellowness of tone, plaintiveness, cheerfulness, and
+propriety of execution, than those of any other bird.
+
+The Robin is the Philomel of our spring and summer mornings in New
+England, and in all the country north and west of these States. Without
+his sweet notes, the mornings would be like a vernal landscape without
+flowers, or a summer-evening sky without tints. He is the chief
+performer in the delightful anthem that welcomes the rising day. Of the
+others, the best are but accompaniments of more or less importance.
+Remove the Robin from this woodland orchestra, and it would be left
+without a _soprano_. Over all the northern parts of this continent,
+wherever there are any human settlements, these birds are numerous and
+familiar. There is probably not an orchard in all New England that is
+not supplied with several of these musicians. When we consider the
+millions thus distributed over this broad country, we can imagine the
+sublimity of that chorus which, from the middle of April until the last
+of July, must daily ascend to heaven from the voices of these birds,
+not one male of which is silent, on any pleasant morning, from the
+earliest flush of dawn until sunrise.
+
+In my boyhood, an early morning-walk was one of my favorite
+recreations, and never can I forget those delightful matins that
+awaited me at every turn. Even then I wondered that so little
+admiration was expressed for the song of the Robin, who seemed to me to
+be worthy of the highest regard. The Robin, when reared in confinement,
+is one of the most affectionate and interesting of birds. His powers of
+song are likewise susceptible of great improvement. Though not prone to
+imitation, he may be taught to sing tunes, and to imitate the notes of
+other birds. I have heard one whistle "Over the water to Charlie" as
+well as it could be played with a fife. Indeed, this bird is so
+tractable, that I believe any well-directed efforts would never fail of
+teaching him to sing any simple melody.
+
+But what do we care about his power of learning artificial music? Even
+if he could be taught to perform like a _maestro_, this would not
+enhance his value as a minstrel of the woods. We are concerned with the
+birds only as they are in a state of nature. It is the simplicity of
+the songs of birds, as I have before remarked, that constitutes their
+principal charm; and were the Robins so changed in their nature as to
+relinquish their native notes, and sing only tunes hereafter, we should
+listen to them with as much indifference as to the whistling of boys in
+the streets.
+
+In the elms on Boston Common, and in all the lofty trees in the suburbs
+as well as in the country villages, are two little birds whose songs
+are heard daily and hourly, from the middle of May until the latter
+part of summer. These are the Warbling Fly-catchers (_Vireo gilvus and
+V. olivaceus_). The first is commonly designated as the Warbling Vireo,
+the second as the Red-eyed Vireo. The former arrives about a week or
+ten days earlier than the other, and becomes silent likewise at a
+somewhat earlier period. Both species are very similar in their habits,
+frequenting the villages in preference to the woods, singing at all
+hours of the day, particularly at noon, taking all their insect prey
+from the leaves and branches of trees, or seizing it as it flits by
+their perch, and amusing themselves, while thus employed, with
+oft-repeated fragments of song. Each builds a pensile nest, or places
+it in the fork of the slender branches of a tree. I have seen a nest of
+the Warbling Vireo placed less than fifteen feet from the ground, on a
+pear-tree, directly opposite the window of a chamber that was
+constantly occupied; but the nests of both species are usually
+suspended at a considerable height from the ground.
+
+The notes of the Warbling Vireo have been described by the words,
+"Brigadier, Brigadier, Bridget." They are few, simple, and melodious,
+and being often repeated, they form a very important part of the sylvan
+music of cultivated and thickly-settled places. It is difficult to
+obtain sight of this little warbler while he is singing, on account of
+his small size, the olive color of his plumage, and his habit of
+perching among the dense foliage of the trees.
+
+The Red-eyed Vireo is more generally known by his note, because he is
+particularly vocal during the heat of the long summer-days, when other
+birds are comparatively silent. The modulation of his notes is similar
+to that of the common Robin, but his tones are sharper, and he sings in
+a very desultory manner, leaving off very frequently in the middle of a
+strain to seize a moth or a beetle. Singing, while he is engaged in
+song, never seems to be his sole employment. This is the little bird
+that warbles for us late in the summer, after almost all other birds
+have become silent, uttering his moderate notes, as if for his own
+amusement, during all the heat of the day, from the trees by the
+roadsides and in our inclosures. We might then suppose him to be
+repeating very moderately the words, "Do you hear me? Do you see me?"
+with the rising inflection of the voice, and with a pause after each
+sentence, as if he waited for an answer.
+
+As soon as the cherry-tree is in blossom, and when the oak and the
+maple are beginning to unfold their plaited leaves, the loud and mellow
+notes of the Golden Robin (_Icterus Baltimore_) are heard for the first
+time in the year. I have never known the birds of this species to
+arrive before this date, and they seem to be governed by the supply of
+their insect food, which probably becomes abundant simultaneously with
+the flowering of the orchards. These birds may from that time be
+observed diligently hunting among the branches and foliage of the
+trees, and they appear to make a particular examination of the
+blossoms, from which they obtain a great variety of flies and beetles
+that are lodged in them. While thus employed, the bird frequently
+utters his brief, but loud and melodious notes; but he sings, like the
+Vireo, only while attending to the wants of life. Almost all remarkable
+singing-birds, when warbling, give themselves up entirely to song, and
+pay no regard to other demands upon their time until they have
+concluded. But the Golden Robin never relaxes from his industry, nor
+remains stationed upon the branch of a tree for the sole purpose of
+singing. He sings, like an industrious maid-of-all-work, only while
+employed in the ordinary concerns of life.
+
+The Golden Robin is said to inhabit North America from Canada to
+Mexico; but there is reason to believe that the species is most
+abundant in the north-eastern parts of the continent, and that a
+greater number breed in the New England States than either south or
+west of this section. They are also more numerous in the suburbs of
+cities and towns than in the ruder and more primitive parts of the
+country. Their peculiar manner of protecting their pensile nests, by
+hanging them from the extremities of the lofty branches of an elm or
+other tall tree, enables the bird to rear its young with great
+security, even in the heart of the city. The only animals that are able
+to reach their nests are the smaller squirrels, which sometimes descend
+the long, slender branches upon which they are suspended, and devour
+the eggs.
+
+This depredation I have never witnessed; but I have seen the Red
+Squirrel descend in this manner to devour the crysalis of a certain
+insect, which was rolled up in a leaf.
+
+The ways and manners of the Golden Robin are very interesting. He is
+remarkable for his vivacity, and his bright plumage renders all his
+movements conspicuous. His plumage needs no description, since every
+one is familiar with its colors, as they are seen like flashes of fire
+among the trees. The bird derives its specific name (Baltimore) from
+the resemblance of its colors to the livery of Lord Baltimore of
+Maryland. The name of a bird ought to have either a sylvan or a poetic
+origin. This has neither. I prefer, therefore, the common and
+expressive name of Golden Robin.
+
+This bird is supposed to possess considerable power of musical
+imitation. Still it may be observed that in all cases he gives the
+notes of those birds only whose voice resembles his own. Thus, he often
+repeats the song of the Red-bird, but in doing this he varies his own
+notes no more than he might do without meaning any imitation. Though he
+repeats but few notes, he utters them with great variety of modulation.
+Sometimes for several days he confines himself to a single strain, and
+afterwards for about an equal space of time he will adopt another
+strain. Sometimes he lengthens his brief notes into an extended melody,
+and sings in a sort of ecstasy, like the birds of the Finch tribe. Such
+musical paroxysms are exceedingly rare in his case, and seem to be
+occasioned by some momentary exultation.
+
+The Golden Robin rears but one brood of young in this part of the
+country, and his cheerful notes are discontinued soon after the young
+have left their nest. The song of the old bird seems after this period
+hardly necessary to the offspring, who keep up an incessant chirping
+from the moment of leaving their nest until they are able to accompany
+the old ones to the woods, whither they retire in the latter part of
+the season. It is remarkable, that, after a perfect silence of two or
+three weeks after this time, the Golden Robins suddenly make their
+appearance again for a few days, uttering the same merry notes with
+which they hailed the arrival of summer. They soon disappear again, and
+before autumn arrives they make their annual journey to the South,
+where they pass the winter.
+
+There is no singing-bird in New England that enjoys the notoriety of
+the Bobolink (_Icterus agripennis_). He is like a rare wit in our
+social or political circles. Everybody is talking about him and quoting
+his remarks, and all are delighted with his company. He is not without
+great merits as a songster; but he is well known and admired, because
+he is showy, noisy, and flippant, and sings only in the open field, and
+frequently while poised on the wing, so that everybody who hears him
+can see him, and know who is the author of the strains that afford him
+so much delight. He sings also at broad noonday, when everybody is out,
+and is seldom heard before sunrise, while other birds are pouring forth
+their souls in a united concert of praise. He waits until the sun is
+up, and when most of the early performers have become silent, as if
+determined to secure a good audience before exhibiting his powers.
+
+The Bobolink, or Conquedle, has unquestionably great talents as a
+musician. In the grand concert of Nature it is he who performs the
+_recitative_ parts, which he delivers with the utmost fluency and
+rapidity; and one must be a careful listener, not to lose many of his
+words. He is plainly the merriest of all the feathered creation, almost
+continually in motion, and singing upon the wing, apparently in the
+greatest ecstasy of joy.
+
+There is not a plaintive strain in his whole performance. Every sound
+is as merry as the laugh of a young child; and one cannot listen to him
+without fancying that he is indulging in some jocose raillery of his
+companions. If we suppose him to be making love, we cannot look upon
+him as very deeply enamored, but rather as highly delighted with his
+spouse, and overflowing with rapturous admiration. The object of his
+love is a neatly formed bird, with a mild expression of countenance, a
+modest and amiable deportment, and arrayed in the plainest apparel. It
+is evident that she does not pride herself upon the splendor of her
+costume, but rather on its neatness, and on her own feminine graces.
+She must be entirely without vanity, unless we suppose that it is
+gratified by observing the pomp and display which are made by her
+partner, and by listening to his delightful eloquence of song: for if
+we regard him as an orator, it must be allowed that he is unsurpassed
+in fluency and rapidity of utterance; and if we regard him only as a
+musician, he is unrivalled in brilliancy of execution.
+
+Vain are all attempts, on the part of other birds, to imitate his truly
+original style. The Mocking-bird gives up the attempt in despair, and
+refuses to sing at all when confined near one in a cage. I cannot look
+upon him as ever in a very serious humor. He seems to be a lively,
+jocular little fellow, who is always jesting and bantering, and when
+half a dozen different individuals are sporting about in the same
+orchard, I often imagine that they might represent the persons
+dramatized in some comic opera. These birds never remain stationary
+upon the bough of a tree, singing apparently for their own solitary
+amusement; but they are ever in company, and passing to and fro, often
+commencing their song upon the extreme end of the bough of an
+apple-tree, then suddenly taking flight, and singing the principal part
+while balancing themselves on the wing. The merriest part of the day
+with these birds is the later afternoon, during the hour preceding
+dewfall, and before the Robins and Thrushes commence their evening
+hymn. Then, assembled in company, it would seem as if they were
+practising a cotillon upon the wing, each one singing to his own
+movements, as he sallies forth and returns,--and nothing can exceed
+their apparent merriment.
+
+The Bobolink usually commences his warbling just after sunrise, when
+the Robin, having sung from the earliest dawn, brings his performance
+to a close. Nature seems to have provided that the serious parts of her
+musical entertainment in the morning shall first be heard, and that the
+lively and comic strains shall follow them. In the evening this order
+is reversed; and after the comedy is concluded, Nature lulls us to
+meditation and repose by the mellow notes of the little Vesper-bird,
+and the pensive and still more melodious strains of the solitary
+Thrushes.
+
+In pleasant, sunshiny weather, the Bobolink seldom flies without
+singing, often hovering on the wing over the place where his mate is
+sitting upon her ground-built nest, and pouring forth his notes with
+great loudness and fluency. The Bobolink is one of our social birds,
+one of those species that follow in the footsteps of man, and multiply
+with the progress of agriculture. He is not a frequenter of the woods;
+he seems to have no taste for solitude. He loves the orchard and the
+mowing-field, and many are the nests which are exposed by the scythe of
+the haymaker, if the mowing be done early in the season. Previously to
+the settlement of America, these birds must have been comparatively
+rare in the New England States, and were probably confined to the open
+prairies and savannas in the northwestern territory.
+
+
+THE O'LINCON FAMILY.
+
+
+  A flock of merry singing-birds were sporting in the grove;
+  Some were warbling cheerily, and some were making love:
+  There were Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, Conquedle,--
+  A livelier set was never led by tabor, pipe, or fiddle,--
+  Crying, "Phew, shew, Wadolincon, see, see, Bobolincon,
+  Down among the tickletops, hiding in the buttercups!
+  I know the saucy chap, I see his shining cap
+  Bobbing in the clover there,--see, see, see!"
+
+  Up flies Bobolincon, perching on an apple-tree,
+  Startled by his rival's song, quickened by his raillery.
+  Soon he spies the rogue afloat, curvetting in the air,
+  And merrily he turns about, and warns him to beware!
+  "'Tis you that would a-wooing go, down among the rushes O!
+  But wait a week, till flowers are cheery,--wait a week, and, ere you
+    marry,
+  Be sure of a house wherein to tarry!
+  Wadolink, Whiskodink, Tom Denny, wait, wait, wait!"
+
+  Every one's a funny fellow; every one's a little mellow;
+  Follow, follow, follow, follow, o'er the hill and in the hollow!
+  Merrily, merrily, there they hie; now they rise and now they fly;
+  They cross and turn, and in and out, and down in the middle, and
+    wheel about,--
+  With a "Phew, shew, Wadolincon! listen to me Bobolincon!--
+  Happy's the wooing that's speedily doing, that's speedily doing,
+  That's merry and over with the bloom of the clover!
+  Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, follow, follow me!"
+
+  Oh, what a happy life they lead, over the hill and in the mead!
+  How they sing, and how they play! See, they fly away, away!
+  Now they gambol o'er the clearing,--off again, and then appearing;
+  Poised aloft on quivering wing, now they soar, and now they sing:--
+  "We must all be merry and moving; we must all be happy and loving;
+  For when the midsummer has come, and the grain has ripened its ear,
+  The haymakers scatter our young, and we mourn for the rest of the
+    year.
+  Then Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, haste, haste, away!"
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE SONG-SPARROW, AND ITS VARIATIONS. Three
+lines of music. Line one is labelled THEME. Line 2 is labelled Var. 1
+and line 3 is Var. 2.]
+
+[Illustration: (musical notation) NOTE.--The notes marked _guttural_
+seem to me to be performed by a rapid trilling of these notes with
+their octave. It should be added, that no bird sings constantly in so
+regular time as is represented above, and the intervals between the
+high and low notes are very irregular. Both the time and the tune are
+in great measure _ad libitum_]
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE LINNET. (_Fringilla purpurea_.) (musical
+notation)]
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE WREN. (_Trogledytes fulvus_.) (musical
+notation)]
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE ROBIN. (_Turdus migratorius_.) (musical
+notation)]
+
+Another--Flexibly modulated, as if pronouncing the words below.
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] Tu lu lu, tu lu lu, tu lu lu, too loo.
+
+NOTE.--The Robin is continually varying his notes; so that the two
+specimens, as given above, may be considered but the theme upon which
+he constructs his melody.
+
+SONG OF THE WARBLING VIREO. (_V. Gilvus._)
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] Brigadier Brigadier Brigadier Briget.
+
+SONG OF THE RED-EYED VIREO. (_V. olivaceus._)
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] pauses to Take a fly.
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] takes another, The same repeated without
+conclusion.
+
+SONG OF THE GOLDEN ROBIN. (_Icterus Baltimore._) [Illustration: Musical
+staff]
+
+[Footnote 1: Mr. Charles S. Paine, of East Randolph, who, I believe,
+was the first to observe this habit of the Song-Sparrow.]
+
+[Footnote 2: Mr. Augustus Fowler of Danversport, who has made one of
+the finest collections of the eggs of native birds. His drawings of the
+same are beautifully executed, accompanied by representations of the
+nests and of the foliage that surrounded them. This gentleman and his
+brother, Mr. S.P. Fowler, have found leisure, during the intervals of
+their occupation in a mechanical art, to acquire a knowledge of certain
+branches of natural history which would do honor to a professor.]
+
+
+
+THE OLD WELL.
+
+
+On a bright April morning many years ago, a stout, red-faced old
+gentleman, Geoffrey Purcill, followed by several workmen bearing
+shovels and pick-axes, took his way to a little knoll on which stood a
+wide-spreading chestnut-tree. When they reached the top of the knoll,
+the old man paused a moment and then struck his gold-headed cane upon
+the ground at some little distance from the trunk of the tree, saying,
+"Dig here."
+
+The workmen looked at each other and then at their master.
+
+"It would be useless to dig a well here, Sir," said one of the workmen,
+very respectfully,--"no water would ever come into it."
+
+"Who asked for your opinion?" inquired Geoffrey, in an angry tone. "Do
+as I bid you;--the well shall be digged here, and water _shall_ come
+into it."
+
+The man ventured no further remonstrance; he took off his jacket, and
+struck his pickaxe into the hard, dry soil near the point where the
+cane rested.
+
+Geoffrey Purcill was a choleric old gentleman, who, having had his own
+way all his life, was by no means inclined to forego that privilege now
+that he was advanced in years. As he sat beneath the chestnut-tree, one
+warm spring day, he felt very thirsty, and he suddenly thought what a
+good thing it would be to have a well there, so that he might refresh
+himself with a draught of clear, cool water, without the trouble of
+returning to the house. The more thirsty he grew, the pleasanter seemed
+the project to him,--a large, deep well, neatly stoned, with a sweep
+and buckets,--it would be a pretty object to look at, as well as
+comfort to man and beast. The well should be digged forthwith, and what
+Geoffrey Purcill once resolved upon he was not slow to execute; and,
+despite the remonstrances of those who knew better than he, the work
+was commenced at once.
+
+A more unpromising place for a well could not have been selected in all
+his extensive grounds; but he was not a man to be patiently baffled
+even by Nature herself, and he stood looking with grim satisfaction at
+the hole which rapidly widened and deepened under the vigorous efforts
+of his sturdy workmen.
+
+Day after day old Geoffrey watched his workmen on the knoll. The well
+increased in size till it was large enough to have watered a whole
+caravan,--but the desert of Sahara itself was not drier. Geoffrey
+fumed, raved, and swore; and when two of the men were killed by the
+falling of the earth, and the rest absolutely refused to work any
+longer, he bade them go, a pack of ungrateful scoundrels as they were,
+and, procuring more laborers, declared "he would dig there till the
+Devil came to fetch him."
+
+Geoffrey was as good as his word;--he labored with a pertinacity worthy
+of a better object, and dug deeper into the bowels of the earth, and
+partly stoned his well,--but no water, save that which fell from
+heaven, ever appeared in it.
+
+And when old Geoffrey was gathered to his fathers, he left his house
+and grounds to his only daughter, Eleanor Purcill, on the express
+condition that the well was not to be filled up, but to remain open
+till water did come into it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One July day, when Geoffrey Purcill had been some twenty years with his
+fathers, or with Satan, (which two destinies might have been one and
+the same, after all, for he came of a turbulent, wicked race,) two
+children, a boy and girl, sat on the brink of the well and looked down
+into it. It was half filled with the rubbish of the fallen stones, but
+it was still deep, and dark enough to tempt their curious eyes into
+trying to discover what lay hidden in its shadowy depths. The great
+chestnut-tree, rich with drooping, feathery blossoms, shaded them from
+the burning sun,--a few stray beams only finding their way through the
+glossy leaves, and resting on the golden curls of the girl.
+
+The boy leaned over the well, and peered into it;--the little girl bent
+forward, as if to do the same, but drew back again.
+
+"Take hold of my hand, Mark," said she, "and let me lean over as you
+do."
+
+"What do you want to look in for?" asked the boy,--"there is nothing to
+see. Oh, yes," continued he, mischievously, "there is a horrid dragon,
+just such as St. George fought with, lying all curled up in the bottom
+of the well, with fire and smoke coming out of his mouth."
+
+Rosamond Purcill was too true a descendant of old Geoffrey to be
+frightened at the thought of a dragon. She caught hold of Mark's arm to
+steady herself, and leaned over the well.
+
+"Let me see! let me see!" cried she, eagerly.
+
+Mark made one or two feints of pushing her in, but at last held her
+firmly by the waist, while she looked in vain for the fabulous monster
+below.
+
+"Where is he, Mark? I don't see anything, and I don't believe you saw
+him."
+
+"Oh, yes, I did," said Mark;--"there, don't you see the end of his tail
+sticking out from under the largest stone? May-be he has had one little
+girl for breakfast this morning, and don't care about another for
+luncheon, or else he would spring up after you, and gobble you up in a
+minute."
+
+"What stories, Mark! Aunt Eleanor says there are no dragons, nor ever
+were."
+
+"Pooh!" retorted Mark, contemptuously,--"Aunt Eleanor has not seen
+everything that there is to be seen in the world. Look again, Rosy."
+
+Again the little curly head was bent over the well, somewhat puzzled
+which to believe, Aunt Eleanor or Mark, but half-inclined to credit
+Mark's eyes rather than Aunt Eleanor's words.
+
+"Do you think that can be one of his scales?" asked she, pointing to a
+small piece of tin which glittered in a stray sunbeam among the stones.
+
+Mark's eyes followed the direction of her finger, and he was about to
+declare that it must be a scale that the dragon had scraped off his
+back, wriggling among the stones, when both children were startled by a
+loud voice calling out, "What are you doing, children? You will fall
+into the well and break your good-for-nothing little necks!"
+
+Mark and Rosamond drew back, and saw a young man, their brother
+Bradford, with a basket and a fishing-rod in his hand, coming up the
+knoll.
+
+"Why are you here, Mark?" asked he. "Aunt Eleanor thinks it a dangerous
+place, and has forbidden you to play here."
+
+Mark looked up at his brother. "I come," said he, sturdily, "for that
+very reason,--because I am told not to. I won't mind Aunt Eleanor, nor
+any other woman."
+
+Bradford shook his head and burst out into a laugh. "Ah, Mark, my boy,"
+said he, with a serious, comical air, "it will do very well for you to
+talk,--you will find out, sooner or later, that all men have to do just
+what women wish."
+
+Mark opened his incredulous eyes, and inwardly resolved that this
+should never be the case with him; and considering that Bradford was
+only eighteen it is somewhat remarkable that he should have gained so
+much wisdom, either by observation or experience, at so early an age.
+
+"Mark says," chimed in Rosamond, "that there is a dragon at the bottom
+of the well; and I want to see him."
+
+"A dragon?" cried Bradford,--"Mark is a story-teller, and you are a
+goose;--but if there is one, I will catch him for you";--and he stood
+on the brink of the well, and sportively threw his line into it.
+
+"You are a pretty fellow to talk about catching a dragon, Brad!"
+retorted Mark, a little nettled at the tone in which Bradford spoke of
+him,--"you can't even catch a shiner!"--and he glanced at Bradford's
+empty basket.
+
+Bradford laughed louder than before. "And for that very reason I expect
+to catch the dragon. One kind of a line will not catch all kinds of
+fish; and this line may be good for nothing but dragons, after
+all.--There! I've got a bite. Stand back, Rosy," cried he, "the dragon
+will be on the grass in a minute."
+
+Bradford tried to pull up his line, but it was either entangled among
+the stones, or had some heavy object attached to it, for the rod bent
+beneath the weight as he with a strong pull endeavored to draw up his
+prize. Rosamond's eyes opened to their widest extent, and, fully
+expecting to see the dragon swinging wide-mouthed in the air over her
+head, drew a little closer to Mark, who, on his part, wondered what
+Bradford was at, and whether he was not playing some trick upon him.
+
+When the end of the line rose to the top of the well, they saw
+suspended by the two hooks, not a winged, scaly monster, but a small
+rusty box, in the fastenings of which the hooks had caught.
+
+Rosamond drew a long breath,--"Is that all, Bradford? I am so sorry! I
+thought, to be sure, you had the dragon."
+
+"Never mind the dragon, Rosy," cried he; "let us see what I have
+caught.
+
+"Who knows but the purse of Fortunatus or the slipper of Cinderella may
+be in here?--they have been lost for many a day, and nobody knows where
+they are."
+
+Bradford knelt down on the grass, and, unhooking his line, strove to
+undo the rusty hasp; but it resisted all the efforts of his fingers,
+and it was only by the aid of a knife and a stone that he opened the
+box. In it was a morocco case, much discolored, but still in tolerable
+preservation, from which he drew a small manuscript book.
+
+Rosamond's disappointment was greater than before. "It is nothing but a
+writing-book, after all," said she. "I wish you had not said anything
+about the purse or slipper, and then I should never have thought of
+them. You never heard anybody say where they thought the purse and
+slipper were hid,--did you?"
+
+"Come, Rosy," cried Mark, "come down to the meadow; there is nothing
+more to be got out of the old well. Let us leave Brad alone with his
+book and his fish."
+
+The children turned away towards the meadow,--Rosamond meditating upon
+the probability of her ever finding the purse and slipper, if she
+should ever set out in quest of them, and Mark thinking what a fool
+such a big fellow as Bradford must be, to mind any woman that ever was
+born.
+
+Bradford took the box and the book to the chestnut-tree, and,
+stretching himself at full length in the shade, began to turn over the
+leaves. It was a journal, written in a delicate, graceful hand; and
+though the paper was somewhat yellow, and the ink faded, the writing
+was perfectly legible. Bradford looked at it, carelessly reading here
+and there a sentence, till his eye catching some familiar names, he
+opened it at the commencement, and read as follows:--
+
+"_December_ 31.--It is the last night of the old year. A few more
+steps, and the old year will have vanished into the great hall of the
+Past, where all the ages that ever have been are gathered. I have been
+sitting the last hour by myself, and have fancied that time moved not
+with its usual swiftness,--that the old year lingered with a sad
+regret, as if loath to pass away and let the new come in. Even now the
+midnight clock is striking,--eleven,--twelve;--the last flutter of the
+old year's robe is out of sight, and the new year glides in with
+noiseless feet, like one who enters the chamber of the dead. These are
+but melancholy fancies;--because I am sad myself must I put all the
+world in mourning? The old year did not linger;--it is only I that am
+loath to go. I have been so happy here, that the prospect of spending
+the coming year with Cousin Eleanor fills my mind with sad
+forebodings;--and yet my childish remembrances of her have in them
+nothing unpleasant. I think of her as a grave, quiet woman, who never
+strove to attract and win the love of a child. How I shall miss the
+life and gayety, the jests and laughter of Madge and Bertha! Madge the
+more, because she is so full of whims and oddities. To-night she came
+into my room, and brought this little book for me to write a journal of
+all that befell me while I was gone, making me promise to write often
+in it. Not that she ever wished to see it again. Heaven forbid that she
+should ever be so cruelly punished as to be made to read anybody's
+journal!--least of all such a stupid one as mine must be, shut up with
+Cousin Eleanor!--but she thought that I could never draw the book from
+the case (she had chosen one that fitted very tightly, and would give
+me much trouble for that very reason) without thinking of her;--and to
+be thought of often by her friends she confesses she is weak enough to
+wish.--Dear Madge, I could not forget her, if I would. The book just
+fits in a little japanned box that belonged to my grandmother, in which
+she used to keep rouge and pearl-powder. I will keep it in that, and
+remember my promise to Madge.
+
+"_February_ 21.--The journey is over, and I am at Cousin Eleanor's. How
+the evils that we dread shrink into nothing when we fairly meet them!
+Cousin Eleanor received me kindly, and looked neither so grave nor so
+cold as my memory, assisted by my imagination, had pictured her; and
+Ashcroft is a pretty place, even in midwinter. I am never tired of
+sitting at the library-window, and looking at the bare branches of the
+black ash-trees, as they spread out their network against the winter
+sky. I have a little desk near the bay-window, where I have my drawing
+and writing materials, and where I pretend to write and draw, while
+Eleanor occupies a larger one at the opposite window. Eleanor is a
+woman of business,--keeps all her accounts, looks after her farm and
+servants, and manages all her own affairs, and, though a strict and
+exacting mistress, is neither harsh nor unkind;--she evidently intends
+to perform all her own duties punctually and faithfully, and expects
+others to do the same. I often look at her with wonder, her nature is
+so different from mine,--never impulsive, always cool and steady,--full
+of ceaseless activity, yet never hurried, and seemingly never
+perplexed. I sometimes think she sees the whole of her life mapped out
+before her, and takes up every event in order. With the exception of
+the servants, we are the only occupants of the house, Eleanor does not
+seek nor desire the society of her neighbors; and so while she works I
+dream, read, or answer Madge or Bertha's letters.
+
+"_February_ 28.--It has been snowing ceaselessly for two days. I have
+read, drawn, and sewed till I am as weary as Marianna in the moated
+grange. I have yawned aloud a dozen times, but Eleanor does not mind
+it. She has been extremely busy with accounts, papers, and letters. For
+the last four hours I do not think she has spoken a word. I hear
+nothing but the scratch of her pen as it moves over the paper, and the
+wind in the ash-trees. I have taken Madge's journal in despair. Ah,
+Madge! I wish the bonnie girl were here;--how we would talk nonsense by
+the hour together, just to keep our tongues in practice, and Madge
+would hunt down an idea through all its turnings and windings, as if it
+were a hare, and she a dog in chase of it! A ring at the door;--I hope
+it may be some human body that will make Cousin Eleanor open her lips
+at last.
+
+"_March_ 1.--The blots on the opposite page show with what haste I shut
+up my journal yesterday. The ring at the door brought more than I
+anticipated, and opened my eyes effectually for the rest of the day.
+'Mr. Lee,' said the servant, throwing the library-door wide open, and
+ushering in a man wrapped in a cloak, with a travelling-cap in his
+hand. Cousin Eleanor rose instantly, and advanced to meet him. I
+expected to see her extend her hand towards him, and welcome him in her
+usual courteous manner. Instead of that, she gave him a hearty kiss,
+which could be heard as well as felt, and which was returned, as I
+thought, with interest. If the marble Widow Wadman in the library had
+kissed the sympathizing face of Uncle Toby, I should not have been so
+much surprised, and should have thought it much more likely to happen.
+
+"'I am very glad to see you, Thornton,' said she. 'I did not think you
+could come till to-morrow.'
+
+"'I have made the best use of my time,' returned he, 'and had no wish
+to spend my precious hours at a country inn. It seemed good to see
+winter and snow again, after so many months of summer.'
+
+"Bending forward to catch a better view of him as he spoke, the
+rustling of my dress reminded Eleanor of my presence.
+
+"'My cousin Elizabeth Purcill, Thornton Lee,' said she. 'My two good
+friends I hope will also be friends to each other.'
+
+"Mr. Lee made me a gentlemanly bow, and said something about the
+pleasure of seeing me; but more than suspecting that my presence in the
+library was no pleasure to either of them, I shut up my journal,
+crowded it into the box, and stole out of the room at the first
+convenient opportunity. On the stairs I met Mrs. Bickford, the
+housekeeper.
+
+"'Is any one in the library with Miss Purcill?' asked she.
+
+"'Yes,--a Mr. Lee.'
+
+"'Mr. Lee?' exclaimed she, in surprise. 'I did not know as he was
+expected home now.'
+
+"'Who is Mr. Lee?'
+
+"'He is the gentleman whom Miss Purcill is to marry; but I thought he
+was not coming till autumn. I wonder if she knew it.'
+
+"What Eleanor knows she always keeps to herself; none of her household
+are any the wiser for it. I was more surprised than Mrs. Bickford.
+Eleanor affianced! I never thought or dreamed of such a thing. Eleanor
+in love must be a curious spectacle. I did not feel sleepy any longer.
+What could a woman, so independent, so self-relying, so sufficient for
+herself, want of a lover? She always seemed to be a whole, and did not
+need another half to complete herself. I speculated much on the
+subject, and, when the bell rang for tea, went down-stairs with
+something of the same feeling of eager curiosity with which I open the
+pages of a good novel. There is nothing so interesting to idle,
+observant people as a pair of lovers, provided they are not silly, in
+which stage they are perfectly unbearable, and never should suffer
+themselves to be seen even by their intimate friends. Was it my fancy,
+or not? I thought Eleanor had grown young since I left the library. A
+soft light beamed in her eyes, and a clear crimson--the first trace of
+color I had ever seen in her face--burned on her cheek. It was a very
+different countenance from that at which I had been casting sidelong
+glances half the day, and yet it seemed to me that she was ashamed of
+these signs of joy, and thought it but a weakness to feel so glad. I
+sat silent nearly all the evening;--words always come more readily to
+my pen than to my lips, and, were it not so, there would have been no
+occasion for any speech of mine. Their conversation flowed on
+uninterruptedly, like a full, free river, whose current is strong and
+deep. How much richer both their lives seemed than mine! He had
+travelled, thought, seen, and felt so much, and had brought such wealth
+home with him, fitly coined into aptly chosen words; and she had
+gathered treasures as priceless from the literature of her own and
+foreign lands. I had nothing to offer either of them but my ears, and
+for those I doubt whether they felt grateful,--and when that doubt
+became a certainty, I crept into the great window in the drawing-room,
+and looked out upon the lawn. The moon, breaking through the clouds,
+shone brightly on the new-fallen snow. I sat down on a low chair,--the
+curtains fell about me,--their voices came to me with a low, dreamy
+sound,--I leaned my head on my hand, and fell asleep. When I awoke, the
+fire had died away, and the chairs were empty.
+
+"_March_ 20.--Mr. Lee comes every day. His father lives only a few
+miles from us,--a distance so short as to be no obstacle to a lover
+with a good horse; though I suspect, if the horse could speak, he would
+wish the distance either less or greater. These midnight rides must be
+detrimental to the constitution of any steady horse, and he often wakes
+me up at night, pawing impatiently under the window while his master is
+making his lingering adieux on the door-step.
+
+"_April_ 1.--I dislike Eleanor more every day. I know not why, unless
+because I watch her so closely. When Mr. Lee is not here she works as
+industriously as ever. If I were in love, I would give myself up to a
+dream or reverie now and then, and build myself an air-castle, if it
+were only to see it tumble down, and call myself a fool for my pains;
+but she is too matter-of-fact to do that. Well, if there is not much
+romance about her love, perhaps there is more reality; yet Thornton Lee
+is just the man one could make an ideal of, if one only would. But this
+is not what I especially dislike her for; people must love according to
+their own nature and temperament, and not after another's pattern. The
+thing that frets me most just now is the way that Eleanor has of
+divining my thoughts before they are spoken, and even before they are
+quite clear to myself. Sometimes, when we are talking together, some
+subject comes up on which I do not care to express my opinion. Eleanor
+fixes her clear, penetrating eyes upon me, and drags my thought out
+into the light, just as a kingfisher pounces upon and pulls a fish out
+of the water. Had I anything to conceal, any secret, I should be afraid
+of her; and as it is, I do not like this invasion of my personal
+kingdom,--though my thoughts often acquire new strength and beauty from
+Eleanor's strong and vigorous language. Last evening, Mr. Lee, Eleanor,
+and myself were turning over the prints in a large portfolio. We paused
+at one, the Departure of Hagar into the Wilderness. The artist had
+represented Hagar turning away from the door of the tent with Ishmael
+and the bottle of water; Abraham was near her; while Sarah in the
+background with a triumphant face exulted at the driving out of the
+bondmaid. The picture had not much merit as a work of Art; but in
+Hagar's face was such a look of despairing, wistful tenderness, as she
+turned towards Abraham for the last time, that it moved me almost to
+tears. I drew a long breath as the picture was turned over. Looking up,
+I saw Eleanor's eyes fixed upon me.
+
+"'You pity Hagar, then? You think it was a harsh and cruel thing to
+drive her out into the wilderness with her child?'
+
+"'Yes,' said I, shortly,--a little provoked that she should have seen
+it in my face.
+
+"She went on: 'Sarah was right. Had I been she, I would have driven her
+out as remorselessly and as pitilessly. Did she not, presuming upon her
+youth, her beauty, and her child, despise her mistress? and why should
+her mistress feel compassion for her? The love of a long life might
+well thrust aside the passion of a few months, and Sarah, contemned by
+her bondmaid, is more worthy of pity than Hagar, in my eyes.'
+
+"I was about to say that Sarah was more to blame for Hagar's conduct
+than she was herself, when Mr. Lee observed 'that Abraham was more to
+be pitied than either of them, for he was unable or unwilling to
+protect either of the women whom he loved,--his wife from the contempt
+of her bondmaid, or the bondmaid from the fury of his wife.'
+
+"I fancied Eleanor did not exactly like this remark, for she turned to
+the next print hastily and began commenting upon it.
+
+"_May_ 6.--The groves and fields are beautiful with the fresh beauty of
+the early spring. We have given up our winter occupations for long
+rambles on the hills and in the woods. I sometimes decline being a
+third in the lovers' walks; but Eleanor seems so dissatisfied, if I
+refuse to accompany them, that I consent, lagging behind often, and
+have learned to be both blind and deaf as occasion requires. I think,
+too, that Mr. Lee is not sorry to have me with them. He and Eleanor
+have been separated for three years, and I sometimes wonder if they
+have not grown away from each other in that time. A long absence is a
+dangerous experiment even for friends, much more for lovers. Besides,
+no life is long enough to allow such great gaps in it.
+
+"_June_ 1.--We were sitting yesterday under the ash-trees on the
+lawn,--Eleanor netting, Mr. Lee reading Dante aloud, and I making
+myself rings and bracelets out of the shining blades of grass, and
+pretending to listen, when a servant brought Eleanor a letter. It was
+very short, for she did not turn the leaf. When she had read it she
+drew out her watch.
+
+"'I have an hour before the express-train starts. Tell Mrs. Bickford to
+pack my trunk for a journey. Harness the black horse to drive to the
+station.'
+
+"She put the letter into Mr. Lee's hands. 'My brother is very ill, and
+I shall go to him at once. Elizabeth, I am sorry to leave you here
+alone, but while I am gone I hope Thornton will consider you under his
+charge and protection.'
+
+"She rose, as she spoke, and went towards the house, followed by
+Thornton.
+
+"In a few minutes she appeared again, dressed in a gray
+travelling-dress,--kissed me lightly on the check, and bade me
+good-bye. All her preparations for this long journey had been made
+without any hurry or confusion, and she did not apparently feel so
+agitated or nervous at the thought of travelling this distance alone as
+I should to have gone by myself to the nearest town. Why Thornton did
+not accompany her, whether he could not or she did not wish it, I do
+not know; but he parted from her at the station, and soon returned for
+his horse.
+
+"_July_ 1.--Eleanor has been gone a month; in that time we have
+received but one letter from her. Her brother still lies in a very
+critical state, and she will not leave him at present. His motherless
+children, too, she thinks require her care. It seemed very lonesome at
+first without her. I did not think I could have missed an uncongenial
+person, one with whom I had so little sympathy, so much. I think I must
+belong to the tribe of creeping plants, which cling to whatever is
+nearest to them. Ashcroft grows daily more beautiful, and Thornton
+comes often to see me. We read together books that I like, (not Dante,)
+walk and sketch. We are on excellent terms, and call each other Cousin
+in view of our future relationship. I can talk more freely to him, now
+that Eleanor is not here,--and feel no disposition to hide my thoughts,
+now that I can keep them to myself, if I choose.
+
+"_July_ 24.--A week ago, one fair midsummer afternoon, we strolled to
+the knoll, and sat down under the blossoming boughs of the
+chestnut-tree.
+
+"'I think,' said I, 'this is the pleasantest place in all the grounds;
+but Eleanor never seemed willing to come here.'
+
+"'Eleanor has many unpleasant remembrances connected with the place,'
+replied Thornton. 'Her father's obstinate persistence in digging the
+well was a great annoyance to the whole household, and, unimaginative
+as Eleanor is, I fancy sometimes, from her avoidance of the spot, that
+she has some superstitious idea connected with the well,--that she
+fears through it some great misfortune may happen to some of the
+family.'
+
+"'I hardly see how that can be,' said I, rising and going to the brink
+of the well; 'it is very deep, but there was never any water in it.'
+
+"Just then I caught sight of a little flower growing out of the cleft
+of one of the stones. I knelt down and bent over to reach it. I
+slipped, I know not how, and should have fallen, had not Thornton
+sprung to my side and caught me.
+
+"'Ah, my foolish cousin!' said he, 'there needs not to be water in the
+well to make it a dangerous place. Promise me that you will not attempt
+such a thing again.'
+
+"'Not I,' said I, laughing gayly to conceal my fright,--for I did think
+I was about to break my neck on the stones below. 'There is no harm
+done, and I have got what I was after,'--and I held up the flower.
+
+"It was an ugly little thing, and looked not half so pretty in my hand
+as it did in the shadow of the well. I would not have gathered it, had
+I seen it growing by the roadside. 'Is it not pretty?'
+
+"'Humph!' said he, 'very!--worth breaking one's neck for!'
+
+"'I was about to offer it to you, but, since you despise it, I will
+keep it myself,'--and I stuck it into my hair.
+
+"Some time after, I missed the flower. I did not see it on the grass,
+but a leaf strangely similar peeped out of Thornton's waistcoat-pocket.
+When we passed by the well, on leaving the knoll, 'Promise me,' said he
+again, 'that you will not reach over the well for flowers any more.'
+
+"I was a little irritated at his pertinacity. 'I shall do no such
+thing,' returned I; 'you are growing as superstitious as Eleanor. On
+the contrary, I think I shall make a garden there and tend it every
+day; and whenever I go away from Ashcroft, I will leave something on
+the stone for you, to show how idle your fears are.'
+
+"Thornton did not answer. He was provoked, but showed his anger only by
+his silence. We sauntered back to the house in a different mood from
+that in which we had left it.
+
+"_August_ 4.--Thornton came into the library to-day with a letter from
+Eleanor. She cannot leave her brother, and wrote to Thornton about some
+papers that she wished sent to her without delay. They were in the
+drawer of the desk at which I was sitting. Thornton said he was in
+haste, as he wished to prepare the packet for the next mail. I rose at
+once. In his hurry he knocked the little japanned box on to the floor.
+Begging pardon for his awkwardness, he picked it up, and looked at it a
+moment to assure himself that it had suffered no damage.
+
+"'It is a curious little thing,' said he, 'and looks as if it were a
+hundred years old.'
+
+"'It belonged once to my grandmother, and held pearl-powder and rouge,'
+said I.
+
+"'And is used for the same purpose now?' inquired he.
+
+"'Yes,' returned I, my cheek reddening a little. 'I was just putting
+some on as you entered.'
+
+"'It must be very uncommon rouge,' remarked he, quietly fixing his eyes
+on me; 'it grows red after it is put on, and must require much care in
+the use of it.'
+
+"'I thought you were in a great hurry, Thornton, when you came in.'
+
+"'And so I am';--and he began undoing and separating papers, but every
+few moments he would steal a glance--a glance that made me feel
+uneasy--towards me, as I sat at the other window busying myself with my
+needle.
+
+"_August_ 25.--I wish Eleanor would come home. I sometimes think I will
+go away; but to leave Ashcroft now would imply a doubt of Thornton's
+honor, and impute thoughts to him which perhaps have no existence but
+in my vanity.
+
+"_October_ 3.--Ah, why was I so foolish? Why did I not go when I saw the
+danger so clearly, instead of cheating myself into the belief that
+there was none? Would that I had never come to Ashcroft, or had had the
+courage to leave it! These last six weeks, I do not know, I cannot
+tell, how they have been spent. Thornton was ever by my side, and
+I--did not wish him away. We sat this afternoon on the lawn under the
+great ash-tree,--the one under which he sat reading Dante to Eleanor
+the last day she was with us. The love which had burned in his eyes all
+day found utterance at last, and flamed out in fiery, passionate words.
+He drew me towards him. His vehemence frightened me, and I muttered
+something about Eleanor. It checked him for a moment, but, quickly
+recovering, he spoke freely of himself and of her,--of the love which
+had existed between them,--a feeling so feeble and so poor, compared to
+that which he felt for me, as to be unworthy of the name. He entreated,
+he implored my love. I was silent. He bent over me, gazing into my
+face. There was a traitor lurking in my heart, which looked out of my
+eyes, and spoke without my consent. He understood that language but too
+well. I bent my eyes upon the ground,--his arm was around my waist, his
+hand clasped mine, his lips approached my cheek. A shadow seemed
+suddenly to come between me and the sun. I looked up and saw Eleanor,
+clad in mourning, standing before us. I started at once to my feet,
+and, like the coward that I am, fled and left them together. I ran down
+to the old hawthorn-tree, against which I leaned, panting and
+trembling. Yet, in a few moments, ashamed of my weakness, I stole back
+to where I could see them unobserved. Eleanor stood upon the same spot,
+calm and motionless. Thornton was speaking, but I was too far off to
+hear more than the sound of his voice. When he had ended, he approached
+her, as if to bid her adieu; but she passed him with a stately bow, and
+entered the hall-door. Thornton took his way to the stables, and I soon
+heard the clattering of his horse's hoofs on the hard gravelled road.
+When the sound died away in the distance, I stole into the house and
+crept up to my chamber. How long I was there I could not tell; but when
+I heard the bell ring for tea, I washed my face and smoothed my hair.
+I would not be so cowardly as to fear to see Eleanor again, and perhaps
+it would be better for us both to meet in the presence of a third
+person.
+
+"Mrs. Bickford was alone at the table. 'Miss Purcill would not come
+down tonight,--she was fatigued with her journey.'
+
+"The good lady strove to entertain me with her conversation, but,
+finding that I neither heard, answered, nor ate, our meal was soon
+brought to a close. It is long past midnight. I have thought till I am
+sick and giddy with thinking. I cannot sleep, and have been writing
+here to control the wildness of my imaginings. I have been twice to
+Eleanor's chamber. The door is half ground-glass, and I can see her
+black shadow as she walks to and fro across the room. She has been
+walking so ever since she entered it.
+
+"_October_ 4.--What shall I do? Where shall I go? All night and all day
+Eleanor has walked her chamber-floor. I have been to the door. I have
+knocked. I have called her by name. I have turned the handle,--the door
+is locked. No answer comes to me,--nothing but the black shadow
+flitting across the panes. I sat down by the threshold and burst into
+tears.
+
+"Mrs. Bickford found me there. 'Do not grieve so, Miss Elizabeth,' said
+she, kindly. 'It is dreadful, I know; but Miss Purcill walked the floor
+all night after her father died, and would admit no one to her room.
+She will be better to-morrow.'
+
+"I shook my head. Could I believe that grief for the dead, and not
+sorrow for the conduct of the living, moved her thus, I should be
+happy. Then I could offer consolation and sympathy; but now, if I saw
+her, what could I say? Pity, sorrow for her grief, would be but idle
+words, which she would spurn with contempt,--and she would be right.
+There is but one thing left for me,--I must go from Ashcroft; then,
+perhaps, she and Thornton--But no, it cannot be; so wide asunder, they
+cannot come together again. And do I wish it? Is not his love as much
+mine now as it ever was hers? Ah, how some words once spoken cannot be
+forgotten! Before me now is the little picture of Hagar, which Eleanor
+had framed and hung in the library. Did she place it before my eyes as
+a warning to me? In Hagar's fate I see my own; for even now I hear
+Eleanor asking if the passion of a few hours is to thrust aside the
+love of long years. The bondmaid will go ere she is driven out. But
+Thornton--I cannot, will not, see him again. He has written to me
+to-day, saying that he cannot come here, and asking me to meet him at
+the well to-morrow. By that time I shall be far on my way to Madge. He
+will wait for me, and I shall not come. How can I leave him thus? He
+will believe me heartless and cruel. I grieve even now for his pain and
+grief. He will think that I did not love, but only sported with him.
+How dearly I love him words cannot tell; and I go that his way may be
+smoother, and that in my absence he may find--peace at last. A little
+dried flower lies on the page that I turned. It is one of those that
+grew in the well, that I wore on my bosom one day, that he might see
+and know it, and chide me for having been there again. His chiding was
+sweeter to me than others' praise. I will not be so unjust to myself. I
+will not go without one word. I jestingly told him once I would leave a
+token for him on the stone in the well when I went away from Ashcroft.
+I will put my journal there. He will see the box and remember it. He
+will learn that I have gone, and will know that I love, but that I
+leave and renounce him."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The remaining pages of the book were blank. Elizabeth Purcill's journal
+was ended. Bradford was busy with conjectures. Why had not Thornton
+found and kept the journal intended for him? Had it fallen at once to
+the bottom of the well, and lain there for years, while he waited in
+vain for her coming or her token? Her departure had not brought Eleanor
+Purcill and Thornton Lee together; for his aunt still remained
+unwedded, and he came every Sunday to the village church, with a sweet
+matronly-faced woman on his arm, and two children by his side.
+
+Bradford thrust the journal into his pocket, took up his fishing-rod
+and basket, and sauntered towards the village. He thought he remembered
+the name of Elizabeth Purcill on a head-stone in the church-yard. He
+opened the little wicket and went in. The setting sun threw the long
+shadows of the head-stones across the thick, rank grass. The sounds of
+the village children at play on the green came to his ear softened and
+mellowed by the distance.
+
+He turned towards the spot where, year after year, the Purcills had
+been gathered,--those who had died in their beds in their native town,
+and those who had perished in far-off climes, and whose bones had been
+brought to moulder by the old church-wall. He found the stone, and,
+bending down, read, "Elizabeth Purcill, died Oct. 5th, 18--, aged 19."
+Bradford opened the journal and looked at the last date. She had died,
+then, the day after the journal was ended. But how, and where?
+
+He sat down on the flat stone which covered his grandfather, and turned
+over the pages again, as if they could tell him more than he already
+knew. So absorbed was he, that he did not see a woman who a few minutes
+afterwards knelt down before the same stone, and with a sickle began to
+cut away the weeds and grass.
+
+Bradford looked up at last, and, as the woman raised her head for an
+instant, saw that it was Mrs. Bickford. He approached her and called
+her by name. She gave a little start, as she heard his voice.
+
+"Why, Master Bradford, who would have thought of seeing you here at
+this time?"
+
+Bradford smiled. "Whose grave is this that you are taking such pains to
+clear?"
+
+She pointed to the name with her sickle.
+
+"Yes, I know all that that can tell me. But who was Elizabeth
+Purcill?--what relation was she to me?--and how came she to die so
+young, and to be buried here?"
+
+"Why do you think I should know?" she replied. "People often die young;
+and no matter where the Purcills die, they all wish to come here at
+last;--that one died in Cuba,--that in France,--that in Greece,--and
+that at sea." And she turned her hand towards them, as she spoke.
+
+"But you do not care for their graves; look, how the grass and weeds
+nod over that tombstone; and you would not clear this, unless you knew
+something about the girl that lies underneath it."
+
+"It is an old story," said she, with a sigh, "and I can tell you but
+little of it." She laid her sickle down on the cut grass and sat down
+by it.
+
+"Elizabeth Purcill was the daughter of your grandfather's brother, and
+therefore your father's cousin. Long as I have lived in the family, I
+never saw him; for he went to India, while a young man, to seek a
+fortune, which was found too late to benefit either himself or his
+children. Elizabeth, his eldest daughter, was sent home for her
+education, and lived first with one of her kinsfolk, and then another,
+as her father's whims or their convenience dictated. You remember,
+though so young, when your Aunt Eleanor came to your father's house on
+her way to your Uncle Erasmus in his last illness?"
+
+Bradford nodded.
+
+"A little before that time Elizabeth Purcill came to Ashcroft. She was
+a pretty, lively girl, and it was pleasant to see in our sober
+household one who had time to be idle and could laugh. Your Aunt
+Eleanor was always a busy woman,--busier then than she is now,--and had
+no time for mirth. Every servant in the house liked Miss Elizabeth for
+her sunny smile and her pleasant ways. Shortly afterwards, Thornton Lee
+came home. He had been three years in Africa, and he and your aunt were
+to be married in the autumn.
+
+"When Miss Purcill went away, Mr. Lee remained, and came often to see
+Miss Elizabeth. She had a winsome face, that few men could look upon
+and not love; and I sometimes thought, when I saw them together, how
+much better she was suited to Mr. Lee than your Aunt Eleanor, and
+wondered if he had not found it out himself. Your aunt was away a long
+time, and, by some mistake, the letter, saying that she was coming
+home, did not reach us till the day after her arrival.
+
+"It was a beautiful October afternoon. I had been gathering the grapes
+that grew on the garden wall, and was carrying a basket of them to Miss
+Elizabeth, whom I had seen, half an hour before, with Mr. Lee, on the
+lawn. As I was crossing the hall, Miss Purcill, dressed in deep
+mourning, looking ghastly pale, entered the front door. I started as if
+I had seen a ghost, and dropped my basket. Miss Eleanor passed me
+quickly and went up-stairs. I spoke to her. She did not answer, but,
+entering her chamber, fastened the door behind her.
+
+"I looked out of the window. No one was on the lawn; but presently I
+saw Mr. Lee coming out of the stable, leading his horse. He mounted and
+was out of sight in an instant. Miss Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
+What had happened I could not tell. I could only guess.
+
+"Miss Elizabeth was the only one who came to tea, and her eyes were
+heavy and dull, and she seemed like one in a dream. That night was a
+wretched one to both. When I went to the library to see if the windows
+were fastened for the night, Miss Elizabeth sat by the smouldering fire
+with her face buried in her hands. I shut the door softly and left her,
+and till I slept I heard Miss Eleanor's steps across her chamber-floor.
+
+"The day was no better than the night. Miss Purcill did not leave her
+room, and her cousin wandered about the house, as if her thoughts would
+not let her rest. Once I found her in tears at your aunt's door, and
+tried to console her; but she shook her head impatiently, as if I could
+not understand the cause of her grief.
+
+"The next morning, while I was dressing, my niece Sally came to me in
+great haste, saying that Roger, the gardener, wished to see me at once.
+I hurried on my clothes and went down. I knew by the man's face that
+something dreadful had happened; but when he told me that he had been
+to the old well, and had found Miss Elizabeth lying dead at the bottom
+of it, I felt as if I was stunned.
+
+"I roused myself at last. I ran to Miss Purcill's door. I shook it
+violently and called her by name. She came and opened the door in her
+night-dress. Somehow, I know not and cared not how, for it seemed to me
+that she had something to do with all this, I told her that her Cousin
+Elizabeth was lying dead at the bottom of the old well. She staggered
+and leaned against the door like one who had received a heavy blow. For
+a moment I repented my roughness. But she was soon herself again. She
+thrust her feet into her slippers, and, wrapping her dressing-gown
+about her, went down-stairs, and gave directions, as calmly and
+collectedly as if she were (Heaven help her!) ordering a dinner for the
+men--to bring the body home. Ah, me! I never shall forget how the poor
+thing looked when the four men who bore the litter set it down on the
+library-floor. A bruise on the temple showed where she had struck on
+the cruel stones. The hoarfrost, which had turned into drops of dew,
+glittered among her soft brown curls."
+
+The tears which had been gathering in Mrs. Bickford's eyes fell in
+large drops into her lap as she went on.
+
+"On the day of the funeral, she lay in the library, still and cold in
+her coffin. I had gathered a few flowers, with which I was vainly
+trying to cheat death into looking more like life, by placing them on
+her bosom and in her stiffened fingers. Miss Eleanor sat at the foot of
+the coffin, almost as motionless as the form within it. I had finished
+my task and turned away, when the door opened and Mr. Lee came in
+silently. A slight shudder went through him, as he came to the coffin
+and bent over it. What a change had three days made in the man! Ten
+years would not have taken so much youth and life from him and made him
+look so old and wan. He looked upon her as a man who looks his last
+upon what he loved best in the world;--his whole soul was in his eyes.
+
+"I think he did not see Miss Eleanor till he was about to leave the
+room. She had not spoken, and he was unconscious of her presence. He
+turned towards her and held out his hand; his lips moved, but no words
+escaped them. I heard Miss Purcill's low, unfaltering answer to his
+unspoken thoughts. She did not take his proffered hand, but said,
+'Nothing can unite us again, Thornton,--not even death.'
+
+"His hand dropped by his side;--he quickly left the room, and never
+came to Ashcroft again. When I went to take a last look of Miss
+Elizabeth, I saw that the white rose which I had placed in her hand was
+gone;--he had taken it."
+
+Mrs. Bickford paused. Her story was ended. In a few minutes she took up
+her sickle again, and Bradford stood leaning against the head-stone
+till the grass was all cut on the grave. He had no more questions to
+ask,--for the journal had told him more of the dead below, than Mrs.
+Bickford, with all her love and sympathy, could do. She had fallen into
+the well, then, while endeavoring to place the box on the stone. When
+Mrs. Bickford's task was done, she walked silently back to Ashcroft
+with Bradford.
+
+Late in the evening he was alone in the library with his Aunt Eleanor.
+The picture of Hagar, now so full of interest to him, still hung on the
+wall, and the little desk was at the window which looked out upon the
+lawn. Should he show the journal to his aunt, or keep it to himself?
+Would Elizabeth Purcill wish her Cousin Eleanor to read her written
+words as she once read her untold thoughts?
+
+Wrapped up in his own musings, he started suddenly when Miss Purcill
+said to him, "Rosamond tells me that you found a book to-day in the old
+well; what was it?"--and answered promptly, "It was Elizabeth Purcill's
+journal."
+
+It was the first time Eleanor had heard the name for years. She showed
+no signs of emotion. "I should like to see it," said she; "give it to
+me."
+
+Bradford had been brought up in such habits of obedience, that he never
+thought of disputing his aunt's command. He drew the journal from his
+pocket and handed it to her without speaking.
+
+"You have read it?" said she, fixing her keen eyes upon him.
+
+"Yes."
+
+She drew the lamp towards her and opened the book. The shade on the
+lamp kept the light from her face; but had Bradford seen it, it would
+have told him no more of the thoughts beneath it than the stone in the
+churchyard had told him of Elizabeth Purcill.
+
+He watched her turning over the leaves slowly, and thought that her
+hand trembled a little at the close. Those pages must have stirred many
+a memory and many a grief, as the wind shakes the bare boughs of the
+trees, though blossom, fruit, and leaves have long since fallen.
+
+She closed the book, and spoke at last:--"I think, Bradford, this book
+belongs rightfully but to one person,--Mr. Thornton Lee. Shall I send
+it to him?"
+
+Eleanor's question was uttered in a tone that seemed to admit of but
+one reply. Bradford assented. If he might not keep the journal himself,
+he would rather Thornton Lee should have it than his aunt.
+
+The next day, Thornton Lee received a small packet, accompanied by a
+note which ran thus:--
+
+"To do justice to the memory of one who, years ago, came between us, I
+send you this little book, found in the old well yesterday. From it you
+will learn how she came by her death, and--how much she loved you.
+ELEANOR PURCILL."
+
+As Thornton Lee read the journal, his children climbed his knee and
+twined his gray curls around their fingers, and his wife came and
+leaned sportively over his shoulder and looked at the yellow leaves.
+
+In some lives, as in some years, there is an after-summer; but in
+others, the hoar-frosts are succeeded by the winter snow.
+
+
+THE DEAD HOUSE.
+
+  Here once my step was quickened,
+    Here beckoned the opening door,
+  And welcome thrilled from the threshold
+    To the foot it had felt before.
+
+  A glow came forth to meet me
+    From the flame that laughed in the grate,
+  And shadows a-dance on the ceiling
+    Danced blither with mine for a mate.
+
+  "I claim you, old friend," yawned the arm-chair,--
+    "This corner, you know, is your seat."
+  "Rest your slippers on me," beamed the fender,--
+    "I brighten at touch of your feet."
+
+  "We know the practised finger,"
+    Said the books, "that seems like brain";
+  And the shy page rustled the secret
+    It had kept till I came again.
+
+  Sang the pillow, "My down once quivered
+    On nightingales' throats that flew
+  Through moonlit gardens of Hafiz
+    To gather quaint dreams for you."
+
+  Ah, me, where the Past sowed heart's-ease,
+    The Present plucks rue for us men!
+  I come back: that scar unhealing
+    Was not in the churchyard then.
+
+  But, I think, the house is unaltered;
+    I will go and beg to look
+  At the rooms that were once familiar
+    To my life as its bed to a brook.
+
+  Unaltered! Alas for the sameness
+    That makes the change but more!
+  'Tis a dead man I see in the mirrors,
+    'Tis his tread that chills the floor!
+
+  To learn such a simple lesson
+    Need I go to Paris and Rome,--
+  That the many make a household,
+    But only one the home?
+
+  'Twas just a womanly presence,
+    An influence unexprest,--
+  But a rose she had worn on my grave-sod
+    Were more than long life with the rest!
+
+  'Twas a smile, 'twas a garment's rustle,
+    'Twas nothing that I can phrase,--
+  But the whole dumb dwelling grew conscious,
+    And put on her looks and ways.
+
+  Were it mine, I would close the shutters,
+    Like lids when the life is fled,
+  And the funeral fire should wind it,
+    This corpse of a home that is dead.
+
+  For it died that autumn morning
+    When she, its soul, was borne
+  To lie all dark on the hillside
+    That looks over woodland and corn.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE.
+
+EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.
+
+[I did not think it probable that I should have a great many more talks
+with our company, and therefore I was anxious to get as much as I could
+into every conversation. That is the reason why you will find some odd,
+miscellaneous facts here, which I wished to tell at least once, as I
+should not have a chance to tell them habitually, at our
+breakfast-table.--We're very free and easy, you know; we don't read
+what we don't like. Our parish is so large, one can't pretend to preach
+to all the pews at once. Besides, one can't be all the time trying to
+do the best of one's best; if a company works a steam fire-engine, the
+firemen needn't be straining themselves all day to squirt over the top
+of the flagstaff. Let them wash some of those lower-story windows a
+little. Besides, there is no use in our quarrelling now, as you will
+find out when you get through this paper.]
+
+----Travel, according to my experience, does not exactly correspond to
+the idea one gets of it out of most books of travels. I am thinking of
+travel as it was when I made the Grand Tour, especially in Italy.
+Memory is a net; one finds it full of fish when he takes it from the
+brook; but a dozen miles of water have run through it without sticking.
+I can prove some facts about travelling by a story or two. There are
+certain principles to be assumed,--such as these:--He who is carried by
+horses must deal with rogues.--To-day's dinner subtends a larger visual
+angle than yesterday's revolution. A mote in my eye is bigger to me
+than the biggest of Dr. Gould's private planets.--Every traveller is a
+self-taught entomologist.--Old jokes are dynamometers of mental
+tension; an old joke tells better among friends travelling than at
+home,--which shows that their minds are in a state of diminished,
+rather than increased vitality. There was a story about "strahps to
+your pahnts," which was vastly funny to us fellows--on the road from
+Milan to Venice.--_Coelum, non animum_,--travellers change their
+guineas, but not their characters. The bore is the same, eating dates
+under the cedars of Lebanon, as over a plate of baked beans in Beacon
+Street.--Parties of travellers have a morbid instinct for "establishing
+raws" upon each other.--A man shall sit down with his friend at the
+foot of the Great Pyramid and they will take up the question they had
+been talking about under "the great elm," and forget all about Egypt.
+When I was crossing the Po, we were all fighting about the propriety of
+one fellow's telling another that his argument was _absurd_; one
+maintaining it to be a perfectly admissible logical term, as proved by
+the phrase, "reductio ad absurdum"; the rest badgering him as a
+conversational bully. Mighty little we troubled ourselves for _Padus_,
+the Po, "a river broader and more rapid than the Rhone," and the times
+when Hannibal led his grim Africans to its banks, and his elephants
+thrust their trunks into the yellow waters over which that pendulum
+ferry-boat was swinging back and forward every ten minutes!
+
+----Here are some of those reminiscences, with morals prefixed, or
+annexed, or implied.
+
+Lively emotions very commonly do not strike us full in front, but
+obliquely from the side; a scene or incident in _undress_ often affects
+more than one in full costume.
+
+  "Is this the mighty ocean?--is this all?"
+
+says the Princess in Gebir. The rush that should have flooded my soul
+in the Coliseum did not come. But walking one day in the fields about
+the city, I stumbled over a fragment of broken masonry, and lo! the
+World's Mistress in her stone girdle--_alta maenia Romae_--rose before
+me and whitened my cheek with her pale shadow as never before or since.
+
+I used very often, when coming home from my morning's work at one of
+the public institutions of Paris, to stop in at the dear old church of
+St. Etienne du Mont. The tomb of St. Genevieve, surrounded by burning
+candles and votive tablets, was there; the mural tablet of Jacobus
+Benignus Winslow was there; there was a noble organ with carved
+figures; the pulpit was borne on the oaken shoulders of a stooping
+Samson; and there was a marvellous staircase like a coil of lace. These
+things I mention from memory, but not all of them together impressed me
+so much as an inscription on a small slab of marble fixed in one of the
+walls. It told how this church of St. Stephen was repaired and
+beautified in the year 16**, and how, during the celebration of its
+reopening, two girls of the parish (_filles de la paroisse_) fell from
+the gallery, carrying a part of the balustrade with them, to the
+pavement, but by a miracle escaped uninjured. Two young girls,
+nameless, but real presences to my imagination, as much as when they
+came fluttering down on the tiles with a cry that outscreamed the
+sharpest treble in the Te Deum! (Look at Carlyle's article on Boswell,
+and see how he speaks of the poor young woman Johnson talked with in
+the streets one evening.) All the crowd gone but these two "filles de
+la paroisse,"--gone as utterly as the dresses they wore, as the shoes
+that were on their feet, as the bread and meat that were in the market
+on that day.
+
+Not the great historical events, but the personal incidents that call
+up single sharp pictures of some human being in its pang or struggle,
+reach us most nearly. I remember the platform at Berne, over the
+parapet of which Theobald Weinzäpfli's restive horse sprung with him
+and landed him more than a hundred feet beneath in the lower town, not
+dead, but sorely broken, and no longer a wild youth, but God's servant
+from that day forward. I have forgotten the famous bears, and all
+else.--I remember the Percy lion on the bridge over the little river at
+Alnwick,--the leaden lion with his tail stretched out straight like a
+pump-handle,--and why? Because of the story of the village boy who must
+fain bestride the leaden tail, standing out over the water,--which
+breaking, he dropped into the stream far below, and was taken out an
+idiot for the rest of his life.
+
+Arrow-heads must be brought to a sharp point, and the guillotine-axe
+must have a slanting edge. Something intensely human, narrow, and
+definite pierces to the seat of our sensibilities more readily than
+huge occurrences and catastrophes. A nail will pick a lock that defies
+hatchet and hammer. "The Royal George" went down with all her crew, and
+Cowper wrote an exquisitely simple poem about it; but the leaf that
+holds it is smooth, while that which bears the lines on his mother's
+portrait is blistered with tears.
+
+My telling these recollections sets me thinking of others of the same
+kind that strike the imagination, especially when one is still young.
+You remember the monument in Devizes market to the woman struck dead
+with a lie in her mouth. I never saw that, but it is in the books. Here
+is one I never heard mentioned;--if any of the "Note and Query" tribe
+can tell the story, I hope they will. Where is this monument? I was
+riding on an English stage-coach when we passed a handsome marble
+column (as I remember it) of considerable size and pretensions.--What
+is that?--I said.--That,--answered the coachman,--is _the hangman's
+pillar_. Then he told me how a man went out one night, many years ago,
+to steal sheep. He caught one, tied its legs together, passed the rope
+over his head, and started for home. In climbing a fence, the rope
+slipped, caught him by the neck, and strangled him. Next morning he was
+found hanging dead on one side of the fence and the sheep on the other;
+in memory whereof the lord of the manor caused this monument to be
+erected as a warning to all who love mutton better than virtue. I will
+send a copy of this record to him or her who shall first set me right
+about this column and its locality.
+
+And telling over these old stories reminds me that I have something
+that may interest architects and perhaps some other persons. I once
+ascended the spire of Strasburg Cathedral, which is the highest, I
+think, in Europe. It is a shaft of stone filigree-work, frightfully
+open, so that the guide puts his arms behind you to keep you from
+falling. To climb it is a noon-day nightmare, and to think of having
+climbed it crisps all the fifty-six joints of one's twenty digits.
+While I was on it, "pinnacled dim in the intense inane," a strong wind
+was blowing, and I felt sure that the spire was rocking. It swayed back
+and forward like a stalk of rye or a cat-o'nine-tails (bulrush) with a
+bobolink on it. I mentioned it to the guide, and he said that the spire
+did really swing back and forward,--I think he said some feet.
+
+Keep any line of knowledge ten years and some other line will intersect
+it. Long afterwards I was hunting out a paper of Dumeril's in an old
+journal,--the "Magazin Encyclopédique" for _l'an troisième_, (1795,)
+when I stumbled upon a brief article on the vibrations of the spire of
+Strasburg Cathedral. A man can shake it so that the movement shall be
+shown in a vessel of water nearly seventy feet below the summit, and
+higher up the vibration is like that of an earthquake. I have seen one
+of those wretched wooden spires with which we very shabbily finish some
+of our stone churches (thinking that the lidless blue eye of heaven
+cannot tell the counterfeit we try to pass on it) swinging like a reed,
+in a wind, but one would hardly think of such a thing's happening in a
+stone spire. Does the Bunker-Hill Monument bend in the blast like a
+blade of grass? I suppose.
+
+You see, of course, that I am talking in a cheap way;--perhaps we will
+have some philosophy by and by;--let me work out this thin mechanical
+vein.--I have something more to say about trees, I have brought down
+this slice of hemlock to show you. Tree blew down in my woods (that
+were) in 1852. Twelve feet and a half round, fair girth;--nine feet,
+where I got my section, higher up. This is a wedge, going to the
+centre, of the general shape of a slice of apple-pie in a large and not
+opulent family. Length, about eighteen inches. I have studied the
+growth of this tree by its rings, and it is curious. Three hundred and
+forty-two rings. Started, therefore, about 1510. The thickness of the
+rings tells the rate at which it grew. For five or six years the rate
+was slow,--then rapid for twenty years. A little before the year 1550
+it began to grow very slowly, and so continued for about seventy years.
+In 1620 it took a new start and grew fast until 1714; then for the most
+part slowly until 1786, when it started again and grew pretty well and
+uniformly until within the last dozen years, when it seems to have got
+on sluggishly.
+
+Look here. Here are some human lies laid down against the periods of
+its growth, to which they corresponded. This is Shakspeare's. The tree
+was seven inches in diameter when he was born; ten inches when he died.
+A little less than ten inches when Milton was born; seventeen when he
+died. Then comes a long interval, and this thread marks out Johnson's
+life, during which the tree increased from twenty-two to twenty-nine
+inches in diameter. Here is the span of Napoleon's career;--the tree
+doesn't seem to have minded it.
+
+I never saw the man yet who was not startled at looking on this
+section. I have seen many wooden preachers,--never one like this. How
+much more striking would be the calendar counted on the rings of one of
+those awful trees which were standing when Christ was on earth, and
+where that brief mortal life is chronicled with the stolid apathy of
+vegetable being, which remembers all human history as a thing of
+yesterday in its own dateless existence!
+
+I have something more to say about elms. A relative tells me there is
+one of great glory in Andover, near Bradford. I have some recollections
+of the former place, pleasant and other. [I wonder if the old Seminary
+clock strikes as slowly as it used to. My room-mate thought, when he
+first came, it was the bell tolling deaths, and people's ages, as they
+do in the country. He swore--(ministers' sons get so familiar with good
+words that they are apt to handle them carelessly)--that the children
+were dying by the dozen, of all ages, from one to twelve, and ran off
+next day in recess, when it began to strike eleven, but was caught
+before the clock got through striking.] At the foot of "the hill," down
+in town, is, or was, a tidy old elm, which was said to have been hooped
+with iron to protect it from Indian tomahawks, (_Credat Hahnemannus_,)
+and to have grown round its hoops and buried them in its wood. Of
+course, this is not the tree my relative means.
+
+Also, I have a very pretty letter from Norwich, in Connecticut, telling
+me of two noble elms which are to be seen in that town. One hundred and
+twenty-seven feet from bough-end to bough-end! What do you say to that?
+And gentle ladies beneath it, that love it and celebrate its praises!
+And that in a town of such supreme, audacious, Alpine loveliness as
+Norwich!--Only the dear people there must learn to call it Norridge,
+and not be misled by the mere accident of spelling.
+
+  Nor_wich_.
+  Por_ch_mouth.
+  Cincinnat_ah_.
+
+What a sad picture of our civilization!
+
+I did not speak to you of the great tree on what used to be the Colman
+farm, in Deerfield, simply because I had not seen it for many years,
+and did not like to trust my recollection. But I had it in memory, and
+even noted down, as one of the finest trees in symmetry and beauty I
+had ever seen. I have received a document, signed by two citizens of a
+neighboring town, certified by the postmaster and a selectman, and
+these again corroborated, reinforced, and sworn to by a member of that
+extraordinary college-class to which it is the good fortune of my
+friend the Professor to belong, who, though he has _formerly_ been a
+member of Congress, is, I believe, fully worthy of confidence. The tree
+"girts" eighteen and a half feet, and spreads over a hundred, and is a
+real beauty. I hope to meet my friend under its branches yet; if we
+don't have "youth at the prow," we will have "pleasure at the 'elm."
+
+And just now, again, I have got a letter about some grand willows in
+Maine, and another about an elm in Wayland, but too late for anything
+but thanks.
+
+[And this leads me to say, that I have received a great many
+communications, in prose and verse, since I began printing these notes.
+The last came this very morning, in the shape of a neat and brief poem,
+from New Orleans. I could not make any of them public, though sometimes
+requested to do so. Some of them have given me great pleasure, and
+encouraged me to believe I had friends whose faces I had never seen. If
+you are pleased with anything a writer says, and doubt whether to tell
+him of it, do not hesitate; a pleasant word is a cordial to one, who
+perhaps thinks he is tiring you, and so becomes tired himself. I purr
+very loud over a good, honest letter that says pretty things to me.]
+
+----Sometimes very young persons send communications, which they want
+forwarded to editors; and these young persons do not always seem to
+have right conceptions of these same editors, and of the public, and of
+themselves. Here is a letter I wrote to one of these young folks, but,
+on the whole, thought it best not to send. It is not fair to single out
+one for such sharp advice, where there are hundreds that are in need of
+it.
+
+Dear Sir,--You seem to be somewhat, but not a great deal, wiser than I
+was at your age. I don't wish to be understood as saying too much, for
+I think, without committing myself to any opinion on my present state,
+that I was not a Solomon at that stage of development.
+
+You long to "leap at a single bound into celebrity." Nothing is so
+common-place as to wish to be remarkable. Fame usually comes to those
+who are thinking about something else,--very rarely to those who say to
+themselves, "Go to, now, let us be a celebrated individual!" The
+struggle for fame, as such, commonly ends in notoriety;--that ladder is
+easy to climb, but it leads to pillory which is crowded with fools who
+could not hold their tongues and rogues who could not hide their
+tricks.
+
+If you have the consciousness of genius, do something to show it. The
+world is pretty quick, nowadays, to catch the flavor of true
+originality; if you write anything remarkable, the magazines and
+newspapers will find you out, as the school-boys find out where the
+ripe apples and pears are. Produce anything really good, and an
+intelligent editor will jump at it. Don't flatter yourself that any
+article of yours is rejected because you are unknown to fame. Nothing
+pleases an editor more than to get anything worth having from a new
+hand. There is always a dearth of really fine articles for a first-rate
+journal; for, of a hundred pieces received, ninety are at or below the
+sea-level; some have water enough, but no head; some head enough, but
+no water; only two or three are from full reservoirs, high up that hill
+which is so hard to climb.
+
+You may have genius. The contrary is of course probable, but it is not
+demonstrated. If you have, the world wants you more than you want it.
+It not only a desire, but a passion, for every spark of genius that
+shows itself among us; there is not a bull-calf in our national pasture
+that can bleat a rhyme but it is ten to one, among his friends and no
+takers, that he is the real, genuine, no-mistake Osiris.
+
+_Qu'est ce qu'il a fait?_ What has he done? That was Napoleon's test.
+What have you done? Turn up the faces of your picture-cards, my boy!
+You need not make mouths at the public because it has not accepted you
+at your own fancy-valuation. Do the prettiest thing you can and wait
+your time.
+
+For the verses you send me, I will not say they are hopeless, and I
+dare not affirm that they show promise. I am not an editor, but I know
+the standard of a some editors. You must not expect to "leap with a
+single bound" into the society of those whom it is not flattery to call
+your betters. When "The Paetolian" has paid you for a copy of
+verses,--(I can furnish you a list of alliterative signatures,
+beginning with Annie Aureole and ending with Zoë Zenith,)--when "The
+Ragbag" has stolen your piece, after carefully scratching your name
+out,--when "The Nut-cracker" has thought you worth shelling, and strung
+the kernel of your cleverest poem,--then, and not till then, you may
+consider the presumption against you, from the fact of your rhyming
+tendency, as called in question, and let our friends hear from you, if
+you think it worth while. You may possibly think me too candid, and
+even accuse me of incivility; but let me assure you that I am not half
+so plain-spoken as Nature, nor half so rude as Time. If you prefer the
+long jolting of public opinion to the gentle touch of friendship, try
+it like a man. Only remember this,--that, if a bushel of potatoes is
+shaken in a market-cart without springs to it, the small potatoes
+always get to the bottom.
+
+Believe me, etc., etc.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I always think of verse-writers, when I am in this vein; for these are
+by far the most exacting, eager, self-weighing, restless, querulous,
+unreasonable literary persons one is like to meet with. Is a young man
+in the habit of writing verses? Then the presumption is that he is an
+inferior person. For, look you, there are at least nine chances in ten
+that he writes _poor_ verses. Now the habit of chewing on rhymes
+without sense and soul to match them is, like that of using any other
+narcotic, at once a proof of feebleness and a debilitating agent. A
+young man can get rid of the presumption against him afforded by his
+writing verses only by convincing us that they are verses worth
+writing.
+
+All this sounds hard and rough, but, observe, it is not addressed to
+any individual, and of course does not refer to any reader of these
+pages. I would always treat any given young person passing through the
+meteoric showers which rain down on the brief period of adolescence
+with great tenderness. God forgive us, if we ever speak harshly to
+young creatures on the strength of these ugly truths, and so, sooner or
+later, smite some tender-souled poet or poetess on the lips who might
+have sung the world into sweet trances, had we not silenced the
+matin-song in its first low breathings! Just as my heart yearns over
+the unloved, just so it sorrows for the ungifted who are doomed to the
+pangs of an undeceived self-estimate. I have always tried to be gentle
+with the most hopeless cases. My experience, however, has not been
+encouraging.
+
+----X. Y., aet. 18, a cheaply-got-up youth, with narrow jaws, and
+broad, bony, cold, red hands, having been laughed at by the girls in
+his village, and "got the mitten" (pronounced mittin) two or three
+times, falls to souling and controlling, and youthing and training, in
+the newspapers. Sends me some strings of verses, candidates for the
+Orthopedic Infirmary, all of them, in which I learn for the millionth
+time one of the following facts: either that something about a chime is
+sublime, or that something about time is sublime, or that something
+about a chime is concerned with time, or that something about a rhyme
+is sublime or concerned with time or with a chime. Wishes my opinion of
+the same, with advice as to his future course.
+
+What shall I do about it? Tell him the whole truth, and send him a
+ticket of admission to the Institution for Idiots and Feeble-minded
+Youth? One doesn't like to be cruel,--and yet one hates to lie.
+Therefore one softens down the ugly central fact of donkeyism,
+--recommends study of good models,--that writing verse should
+be an incidental occupation only, not interfering with the hoe, the
+needle, the lapstone, or the ledger,--and, above all, that there should
+be no hurry in printing what is written. Not the least use in all this.
+The poetaster who has tasted type is done for. He is like the man who
+has once been a candidate for the Presidency. He feeds on the madder of
+his delusion all his days, and his very bones grow red with the glow of
+his foolish fancy. One of these young brains is like a bunch of India
+crackers; once touch fire to it and it is best to keep hands off until
+it has done popping,--if it ever stops. I have two letters on file; one
+is a pattern of adulation, the other of impertinence. My reply to the
+first, containing the best advice I could give, conveyed in courteous
+language, had brought out the second. There was some sport in this, but
+Dulness is not commonly a game fish, and only sulks after he is struck.
+You may set it down as a truth which admits of few exceptions, that
+those who ask your _opinion_ really want your _praise_, and will be
+contented with nothing less.
+
+There is another kind of application to which editors, or those
+supposed to have access to them, are liable, and which often proves
+trying and painful. One is appealed to in behalf of some person in
+needy circumstances who wishes to make a living by the pen. A
+manuscript accompanying the letter is offered for publication. It is
+not commonly brilliant, too often lamentably deficient. If Rachel's
+saying is true, that "fortune is the measure of intelligence," then
+poverty is evidence of limited capacity, which it too frequently proves
+to be, notwithstanding a noble exception here and there. Now an editor
+is a person under a contract with the public to furnish them with the
+best things he can afford for his money. Charity shown by the
+publication of an inferior article would be like the generosity of
+Claude Duval and the other gentlemen highwaymen, who pitied the poor so
+much they robbed the rich to have the means of relieving them.
+
+Though I am not and never was an editor, I know something of the trials
+to which they are submitted. They have nothing to do but to develope
+enormous calluses at every point of contact with authorship. Their
+business is not a matter of sympathy, but of intellect. They must
+reject the unfit productions of those whom they long to befriend,
+because it would be a profligate charity to accept them. One cannot
+burn his house down to warm the hands even of the fatherless and the
+widow.
+
+
+
+THE PROFESSOR UNDER CHLOROFORM.
+
+
+--You haven't heard about my friend the Professor's first experiment in
+the use of anaesthetics, have you?
+
+He was mightily pleased with the reception of that poem of his about
+the chaise. He spoke to me once or twice about another poem of similar
+character he wanted to read me, which I told him I would listen to and
+criticize.
+
+One day, after dinner, he came in with his face tied up, looking very
+red in the cheeks and heavy about the eyes.--Hy'r'ye?--he said, and
+made for an arm-chair, in which he placed first his hat and then his
+person, going smack through the crown of the former as neatly as they
+do the trick at the circus. The Professor jumped at the explosion as if
+he had sat down on one of those small _calthrops_ our grandfathers used
+to sow round in the grass when there were Indians about,--iron stars,
+each ray a rusty thorn an inch and a half long,--stick through
+moccasins into feet,--cripple 'em on the spot, and give 'em lockjaw in
+a day or two.
+
+The Professor let off one of those big words which lie at the bottom of
+the best man's vocabulary, but perhaps never turn up in his life,--just
+as every man's hair _may_ stand on end, but in most men it never does.
+
+After he had got calm, he pulled out a sheet or two of manuscript,
+together with a smaller scrap, on which, as he said, he had just been
+writing an introduction or prelude to the main performance. A certain
+suspicion had come into my mind that the Professor was not quite right,
+which was confirmed by the way he talked; but I let him begin. This is
+the way he read it:--
+
+_Prelude_.
+
+  I'm the fellah that tole one day
+  The tale of the won'erful one-hoss-shay.
+
+  Wan' to hear another? Say.
+  --Funny, wasn'it? Made _me_ laugh,--
+  I'm too modest, I am, by half,--
+  Made me laugh 's _though I sh'd split_,--
+  Cahn' a fellah like fellah's own wit?
+  --Fellahs keep sayin',--"Well, now that's nice;
+  Did it once, but cahn' do it twice."--
+  Don' you b'lieve the'z no more fat;
+  Lots in the kitch'n 'z good 'z that.
+  Fus'-rate throw, 'n' no mistake,--
+  Han' us the props for another shake;--
+  Know I'll try, 'n' guess I'll win;
+  Here sh' goes for hit 'm ag'in!
+
+Here I thought it necessary to interpose.--Professor,--I said,--you are
+inebriated. The style of what you call your "Prelude" shows that it was
+written under cerebral excitement. Your articulation is confused. You
+have told me three times in succession, in exactly the same words, that
+I was the only true friend you had in the world that you would unbutton
+your heart to. You smell distinctly and decidedly of spirits.--I spoke,
+and paused; tender, but firm.
+
+Two large tears orbed themselves beneath the Professor's lids,--in
+obedience to the principle of gravitation celebrated in that delicious
+bit of bladdery bathos, "The very law that moulds a tear," with which
+the "Edinburgh Review" attempted to put down Master George Gordon when
+that young man was foolishly trying to make himself conspicuous. One of
+these tears peeped over the edge of the lid until it lost its
+balance,--slid an inch and waited for reinforcements,--swelled
+again,--rolled down a little further,--stopped,--moved on,--and at last
+fell on the back of the Professor's hand. He held it up for me to look
+at, and lifted his eyes, brimful, till they met mine.
+
+I couldn't stand it,--I always break down when folks cry in my
+face,--so I hugged him, and said he was a dear old boy, and asked him
+kindly what was the matter with him, and what made him smell so
+dreadfully strong of spirits.
+
+Upset his alcohol lamp,--he said,--and spilt the alcohol on his legs.
+That was it.--But what had he been doing to get his head into such a
+state?--had he really committed an excess? What was the matter?--Then
+it came out that he had been taking chloroform to have a tooth out,
+which had left him in a very queer state, in which he had written the
+"Prelude" given above, and under the influence of which he evidently
+was still.
+
+I took the manuscript from his hands and read the following
+continuation of the lines he had begun to read me, while he made up for
+two or three nights' lost sleep as he best might.
+
+PARSON TURELL'S LEGACY:
+
+OR, THE PRESIDENT'S OLD ARM-CHAIR.
+
+  Facts respecting an old arm-chair.
+  At Cambridge. Is kept in the College there.
+  Seems but little the worse for wear.
+  That's remarkable when I say
+  It was old in President Holyoke's day.
+  (One of his boys, perhaps you know,
+  Died, _at one hundred_, years ago.)
+  _He_ took lodging for rain or shine
+  Under green bed-clothes in '69.
+
+  Know old Cambridge? Hope you do.--
+  Born there? Don't say so! I was, too.
+  (Born in a house with a gambrel-roof,--
+  Standing still, if you must have proof.--
+  "Gambrel?--Gambrel?"--Let me beg
+  You'll look at a horse's hinder leg,--
+  First great angle above the hoof,--
+  That's the gambrel; hence gambrel-roof.)
+  --Nicest place that ever was seen,--
+  Colleges red and Common green,
+  Sidewalks brownish with trees between.
+  Sweetest spot beneath the skies
+  When the canker-worms don't rise,--
+  When the dust, that sometimes flies
+  Into your mouth and ears and eyes,
+  In a quiet slumber lies,
+  _Not_ in the shape of unbaked pies
+  Such as barefoot children prize.
+
+  A kind of harbor it seems to be,
+  Facing the flow of a boundless sea.
+  Bows of gray old Tutors stand
+  Ranged like rocks above the sand;
+  Rolling beneath them, soft and green,
+  Breaks the tide of bright sixteen,--
+  One wave, two waves, three waves, four,
+  Sliding up the sparkling floor;
+  Then it ebbs to flow no more,
+  Wandering off from shore to shore
+  With its freight of golden ore!
+  --Pleasant place for boys to play;--
+  Better keep your girls away;
+  Hearts get rolled as pebbles do
+  Which countless fingering waves pursue,
+  And every classic beach is strown
+  With heart-shaped pebbles of blood-red stone.
+
+  But this is neither here nor there;--
+  I'm talking about an old arm-chair.
+  You've heard, no doubt, of PARSON TURELL?
+  Over at Medford he used to dwell;
+  Married one of the Mather's folk;
+  Got with his wife a chair of oak,--
+  Funny old chair, with seat like wedge,
+  Sharp behind and broad front edge,--
+  One of the oddest of human things,
+  Turned all over with knobs and rings,--
+  But heavy, and wide, and deep, and grand,--
+  Fit for the worthies of the land,--
+  Chief-Justice Sewall a cause to try in,
+  Or Cotton Mather to sit--and lie--in,
+  --Parson Turell bequeathed the same
+  To a certain student,--SMITH by name;
+  These were the terms, as we are told:
+  "Saide Smith saide Chaire to have and holde;
+  When he doth graduate, then to passe
+  To ye oldest Youth in ye Senior Classe,
+  On payment of"--(naming a certain sum)--
+  "By him to whom ye Chaire shall come;
+  He to ye oldest Senior next,
+  And soe forever,"--(thus runs the text,)--
+  "But one Crown lesse then he gave to claime,
+  That being his Debte for use of same."
+
+  _Smith_ transferred it to one of the BROWNS,
+  And took his money,--five silver crowns.
+  _Brown_ delivered it up to MOORE,
+  Who paid, it is plain, not five, but four.
+  _Moore_ made over the chair to LEE,
+  Who gave him crowns of silver three.
+  _Lee_ conveyed it unto DREW,
+  And now the payment, of course, was two.
+  _Drew_ gave up the chair to DUNN,--
+  All he got, as you see, was one.
+  _Dunn_ released the chair to HALL,
+  And got by the bargain no crown at all.
+  --And now it passed to a second BROWN,
+  Who took it, and likewise _claimed a crown_.
+  When _Brown_ conveyed it unto WARE,
+  Having had one crown, to make it fair,
+  He paid him two crowns to take the chair;
+  And _Ware_, being honest, (as all Wares be,)
+  He paid one POTTER, who took it, three.
+  Four got ROBINSON; five got DIX;
+  JOHNSON _primus_ demanded six;
+  And so the sum kept gathering still
+  Till after the battle of Bunker's Hill.
+  --When paper money became so cheap,
+  Folks wouldn't count it, but said "a heap,"
+  A certain RICHARDS, the books declare,
+  (A.M. in '90? I've looked with care
+  Through the Triennial,--_name not there_,)
+  This person, Richards, was offered then
+  Eight score pounds, but would have ten;
+  Nine, I think, was the sum he took,--
+  Not quite certain,--but see the book.
+  --By and by the wars were still,
+  But nothing had altered the Parson's will.
+  The old arm-chair was solid yet,
+  But saddled with such a monstrous debt!
+  Things grew quite too bad to bear,
+  Paying such sums to get rid of the chair!
+  But dead men's fingers hold awful tight,
+  And there was the will in black and white,
+  Plain enough for a child to spell.
+  What should be done no man could tell,
+  For the chair was a kind of nightmare curse,
+  And every season but made it worse.
+
+  As a last resort, to clear the doubt,
+  They got old GOVERNOR HANCOCK out.
+  The Governor came with his Light-horse Troop
+  And his mounted trackmen, all cock-a-hoop;
+  Halberds glittered and colors flew,
+  French horns whinnied and trumpets blew,
+  The yellow fifes whistled between their teeth
+  And the bumble-bee bass-drums boomed beneath;
+  So he rode with all his band,
+  Till the President met him, cap in hand.
+  --The Governor "hefted" the crowns, and said,--
+  "A will is a will, and the Parson's dead."
+  The Governor hefted the crowns. Said he,--
+  "There is your p'int. And here's my fee.
+  These are the terms you must fulfil,--
+  On such conditions I BREAK THE WILL!"
+  The Governor mentioned what these should be.
+  (Just wait a minute and then you'll see.)
+  The President prayed. Then all was still,
+  And the Governor rose and BROKE THE WILL!
+  --"About those conditions?" Well, now you go
+  And do as I tell you, and then you'll know.
+  Once a year, on Commencement-day,
+  If you'll only take the pains to stay,
+  You'll see the President in the CHAIR,
+  Likewise the Governor sitting there.
+  The President rises; both old and young
+  May hear his speech in a foreign tongue,
+  The meaning whereof, as lawyers swear,
+  Is this: Can I keep this old arm-chair?
+  And then his Excellency bows,
+  As much as to say that he allows.
+  The Vice-Gub. next is called by name;
+  He bows like t'other, which means the same.
+  And all the officers round 'em bow,
+  As much as to say that _they_ allow.
+  And a lot of parchments about the chair
+  Are handed to witnesses then and there,
+  And then the lawyers hold it clear
+  That the chair is safe for another year.
+
+  God bless you, Gentlemen! Learn to give
+  Money to colleges while you live.
+  Don't be silly and think you'll try
+  To bother the colleges, when you die,
+  With codicil this, and codicil that,
+  That Knowledge may starve while Law grows fat;
+  For there never was pitcher that wouldn't spill,
+  And there's always a flaw in a donkey's will!
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+----Hospitality is a good deal a matter of latitude, I suspect. The
+shade of a palm-tree serves an African for a hut; his dwelling is all
+door and no walls; everybody can come in. To make a morning call on an
+Esquimaux acquaintance, one must creep through a long tunnel; his house
+is all walls and no door, except such a one as an apple with a
+worm-hole has. One might, very probably, trace a regular gradation
+between these two extremes. In cities where the evenings are generally
+hot, the people have porches at their doors, where they sit, and this
+is, of course, a provocative to the interchange of civilities. A good
+deal, which in colder regions is ascribed to mean dispositions, belongs
+really to mean temperature.
+
+Once in a while, even in our Northern cities, at noon, in a very hot
+summer's day, one may realize, by a sudden extension in his sphere of
+consciousness, how closely he is shut up for the most part.--Do you not
+remember something like this? July, between 1 and 2, P.M. Fahrenheit
+96º, or thereabout. Windows all gaping, like the mouths of panting
+dogs. Long, stinging cry of a locust comes in from a tree, half a mile
+off; had forgotten there was such a tree. Baby's screams from a house
+several blocks distant;--never knew of any babies in the neighborhood
+before. Tinman pounding something that clatters dreadfully,--very
+distinct, but don't know of any tinman's shop near by. Horses stamping
+on pavement to get off flies. When you hear these four sounds, you may
+set it down as a warm day. Then it is that one would like to imitate
+the mode of life of the native at Sierra Leone, as somebody has
+described it: stroll into the market in natural costume,--buy a
+watermelon for a halfpenny,--split it, and scoop out the middle,--sit
+down in one half of the empty rind, clap the other on one's head, and
+feast upon the pulp.
+
+----I see some of the London journals have been attacking some of
+their literary people for lecturing, on the ground of its being a
+public exhibition of themselves for money. A popular author can print
+his lecture; if he deliver it, it is a case of _quaestum corpore_, or
+making profit of his person. None but "snobs" do that. _Ergo_, etc. To
+this I reply,--_Negatur minor_. Her Most Gracious Majesty, the Queen,
+exhibits herself to the public as a part of the service for which she
+is paid. We do not consider it low-bred in her to pronounce her own
+speech, and should prefer it so to hearing it from any other person or
+reading it. His Grace and his Lordship exhibit themselves very often
+for popularity, and their houses every day for money.--No, if a man
+shows himself other than he is, if he belittles himself before an
+audience for hire, then he acts unworthily. But a true word, fresh from
+the lips of a true man, is worth paying for, at the rate of eight
+dollars a day, or even of fifty dollars a lecture. The taunt must be an
+outbreak of jealousy against the renowned authors who have the audacity
+to be also orators. The sub-lieutenants of the press stick a too
+popular writer and speaker with an epithet in England, instead of with
+a rapier, as in France.--Poh! All England is one great menagerie, and,
+all at once, the jackal, who admires the gilded cage of the royal
+beast, must protest against the vulgarity of the talking-bird's and the
+nightingale's being willing to become a part of the exhibition!
+
+
+THE LONG PATH.
+
+(_Last of the Parentheses_.)
+
+Yes, that was my last walk with the _schoolmistress_. It happened to be
+the end of a term; and before the next began, a very nice young woman,
+who had been her assistant, was announced as her successor, and she was
+provided for elsewhere. So it was no longer the school-mistress that I
+walked with, but--Let us not be in unseemly haste. I shall call her the
+schoolmistress still; some of you love her under that name.
+
+----When it became known among the boarders that two of their number
+had joined hands to walk down the long path of life side by side, there
+was, as you may suppose, no small sensation. I confess I pitied our
+landlady. It took her all of a suddin,--she said. Had not known that we
+was keepin' company, and never mistrusted anything partic'lar. Ma'am
+was right to better herself. Didn't look very rugged to take care of a
+family, but could get hired haälp, she calc'lated.--The great maternal
+instinct came crowding up in her soul just then, and her eyes wandered
+until they settled on her daughter.
+
+----No, poor, dear woman,--that could not have been. But I am dropping
+one of my internal tears for you, with this pleasant smile on my face
+all the time.
+
+The great mystery of God's providence is the permitted crushing out of
+flowering instincts. Life is maintained by the respiration of oxygen
+and of sentiments. In the long catalogue of scientific cruelties there
+is hardly anything quite so painful to think of as that experiment of
+putting an animal under the bell of an air-pump and exhausting the air
+from it. [I never saw the accursed trick performed. _Laus Deo_] There
+comes a time when the souls of human beings, women, perhaps, more even
+than men, begin to faint for the atmosphere of the affections they were
+made to breathe. Then it is that Society places its transparent
+bell-glass over the young woman who is to be the subject of one of its
+fatal experiments. The element by which only the heart lives is sucked
+out of her crystalline prison. Watch her through its transparent
+walls;--her bosom is heaving; but it is in a vacuum. Death is no
+riddle, compared to this. I remember a poor girl's story in the "Book
+of Martyrs." The "dry-pan and the gradual fire" were the images that
+frightened her most. How many have withered and wasted under as slow a
+torment in the walls of that larger Inquisition which we call
+Civilization!
+
+Yes, my surface-thought laughs at you, you foolish, plain, overdressed,
+mincing, cheaply-organized, self-saturated young person, whoever you
+may be, now reading this,--little thinking you are what I describe, and
+in blissful unconsciousness that you are destined to the lingering
+asphyxia of soul which is the lot of such multitudes worthier than
+yourself. But it is only my surface-thought which laughs. For that
+great procession of the UNLOVED, who not only wear the crown of thorns,
+but must hide it under the locks of brown or gray,--under the snowy
+cap, under the chilling turban,--hide it even from themselves,--perhaps
+never know they wear it, though it kills them,--there is no depth of
+tenderness in my nature that Pity has not sounded.
+
+Somewhere,--somewhere,--love is in store for them,--the universe must
+not be allowed to fool them so cruelly. What infinite pathos in the
+small, half-unconscious artifices by which unattractive young persons
+seek to recommend themselves to the favor of those towards whom our
+dear sisters, the unloved, like the rest, are impelled by their
+God-given instincts!
+
+Read what the singing-women--one to ten thousand of the suffering
+women--tell us, and think of the griefs that die unspoken! Nature is in
+earnest when she makes a woman; and there are women enough lying in the
+next churchyard with very commonplace blue slate stones at their head
+and feet, for whom it was just as true that "all sounds of life assumed
+one tone of love," as for Letitia Landon, of whom Elizabeth Browning
+said it; but she could give words to her grief, and they could
+not.--Will you hear a few stanzas of mine?
+
+
+THE VOICELESS.
+
+
+  We count the broken lyres that rest
+    Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,--
+  But o'er their silent sister's breast
+    The wild flowers who will stoop to number?
+  A few can touch the magic string,
+    And noisy Fame is proud to win them;--
+  Alas for those that never sing,
+    But die with all their music in them!
+
+  Nay, grieve not for the dead alone
+    Whose song has told their hearts' sad story,--
+  Weep for the voiceless, who have known
+    The cross without the crown of glory!
+  Not where Leucadian breezes sweep
+    O'er Sappho's memory-haunted billow,
+  But where the glistening night-dews weep
+    On nameless sorrow's churchyard pillow.
+
+  O hearts that break and give no sign
+    Save whitening lip and fading tresses,
+  Till Death pours out his cordial wine
+    Slow-dropped from Misery's crushing presses,--
+  If singing breath or echoing chord
+    To every hidden pang were given,
+  What endless melodies were poured,
+    As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven!
+
+I hope that our landlady's daughter is not so badly off, after all.
+That young man from another city, who made the remark which you
+remember about Boston State-house and Boston folks, has appeared at our
+table repeatedly of late, and has seemed to me rather attentive to this
+young lady. Only last evening I saw him leaning over her while she was
+playing the accordion,--indeed, I undertook to join them in a song, and
+got as far as "Come rest in this boo-oo," when, my voice getting
+tremulous, I turned off, as one steps out of a procession, and left the
+basso and soprano to finish it. I see no reason why this young woman
+should not be a very proper match for a man that laughs about Boston
+State-house. He can't be very particular.
+
+The young fellow whom I have so often mentioned was a little free in
+his remarks, but very good-natured.--Sorry to have you go,--he
+said.--Schoolma'am made a mistake not to wait for me. Haven't taken
+anything but mournin' fruit at breakfast since I heard of
+it.--_Mourning fruit,_--said I,--what's that?--Huckleberries and
+blackberries,--said he;--couldn't eat in colors, raspberries, currants,
+and such, after a solemn thing like this happening.--The conceit seemed
+to please the young fellow. If you will believe it, when we came down
+to breakfast the next morning, he had carried it out as follows. You
+know those odious little "saäs-plates" that figure so largely at
+boarding-houses, and especially at taverns, into which a strenuous
+attendant female trowels little dabs, sombre of tint and heterogeneous
+of composition, which it makes you feel homesick to look at, and into
+which you poke the elastic coppery teaspoon with the air of a cat
+dipping her foot into a wash-tub,--(not that I mean to say anything
+against them, for, when they are of tinted porcelain or starry
+many-faceted crystal, and hold clean bright berries, or pale virgin
+honey, or "lucent syrups tinct with cinnamon," and the teaspoon is of
+white silver, with the Tower-stamp, solid, but not brutally heavy,--as
+people in the green stage of millionism will have them,--I can dally
+with their amber semi-fluids or glossy spherules without a
+shiver,)--you know these small, deep dishes, I say. When we came down
+the next morning, each of these (two only excepted) was covered with a
+broad leaf. On lifting this, each boarder found a small heap of solemn
+black huckleberries. But one of those plates held red currants, and was
+covered with a red rose; the other held white currants, and was covered
+with a white rose. There was a laugh at this at first, and then a short
+silence, and I noticed that her lip trembled, and the old gentleman
+opposite was in trouble to get at his bandanna handkerchief.
+
+--"What was the use in waiting? We should be too late for Switzerland,
+that season, if we waited much longer."--The hand I held trembled in
+mine, and the eyes fell meekly, as Esther bowed herself before the feet
+of Ahasuerus.--She had been reading that chapter, for she looked
+up,--if there was a film of moisture over her eyes, there was also the
+faintest shadow of a distant smile skirting her lips, but not enough to
+accent the dimples,--and said, in her pretty, still way,--"If it please
+the king, and if I have found favor in his sight, and the thing seem
+right before the king, and I be pleasing in his eyes"--
+
+I don't remember what King Ahasuerus did or said when Esther got just
+to that point of her soft, humble words,--but I know what I did. That
+quotation from Scripture was cut short, anyhow. We came to a
+compromise on the great question, and the time was settled for the last
+day of summer.
+
+In the mean time, I talked on with our boarders, much as usual, as you
+may see by what I have reported. I must say, I was pleased with a
+certain tenderness they all showed toward us, after the first
+excitement of the news was over. It came out in trivial matters,--but
+each one, in his or her way, manifested kindness. Our landlady, for
+instance, when we had chickens, sent the _liver_ instead of the
+_gizzard_, with the wing, for the schoolmistress. This was not an
+accident: the two are _never_ mistaken, though some land-ladies
+_appear_ as if they did not know the difference. The whole of the
+company were even more respectfully attentive to my remarks than usual.
+There was no idle punning, and very little winking on the part of that
+lively young gentleman who, as the reader may remember, occasionally
+interposed some playful question or remark, which could hardly be
+considered relevant,--except when the least allusion was made to
+matrimony, when he would look at the landlady's daughter, and wink with
+both sides of his face, until she would ask what he was pokin' his fun
+at her for, and if he wasn't ashamed of himself. In fact, they all
+behaved very handsomely, so that I really felt sorry at the thought of
+leaving my boarding-house.
+
+I suppose you think, that, because I lived at a plain widow-woman's
+plain table, I was of course more or less infirm in point of worldly
+fortune. You may not be sorry to learn, that, though not what _great
+merchants_ call very rich, I was comfortable,--comfortable,--so that
+most of those moderate luxuries I described in my verses on
+_Contentment_--_most_ of them, I say--were within our reach, if we
+chose to have them. But I found out that the schoolmistress had a vein
+of charity about her, which had hitherto been worked on a small silver
+and copper basis, which made her think less, perhaps, of luxuries than
+even I did,--modestly as I have expressed my wishes.
+
+It is rather a pleasant thing to tell a poor young woman, whom one has
+contrived to win without showing his rent-roll, that she has found what
+the world values so highly, in following the lead of her affections.
+That was a luxury I was now ready for.
+
+I began abruptly:--Do you know that you are a rich young person?
+
+I know that I am very rich,--she said,--Heaven has given me more than I
+ever asked; for I had not thought love was ever meant for me.
+
+It was a woman's confession, and her voice fell to a whisper as it
+threaded the last words.
+
+I don't mean that,--I said,--you blessed little saint and seraph!--if
+there's an angel missing in the New Jerusalem, inquire for her at this
+boarding-house!--I don't mean that; I mean that I--that is,
+you--am--are--confound it!--I mean that you'll be what most people call
+a lady of fortune.--And I looked full in her eyes for the effect of the
+announcement.
+
+There wasn't any. She said she was thankful that I had what would save
+me from drudgery, and that some other time I should tell her about
+it.--I never made a greater failure in an attempt to produce a
+sensation.
+
+So the last day of summer came. It was our choice to go to the church,
+but we had a kind of reception at the boarding-house. The presents were
+all arranged, and among them none gave more pleasure than the modest
+tributes of our fellow-boarders,--for there was not one, I believe, who
+did not send something. The landlady would insist on making an elegant
+bride-cake, with her own hands; to which Master Benjamin Franklin
+wished to add certain embellishments out of his private funds,--namely,
+a Cupid in a mouse-trap, done in white sugar, and two miniature flags
+with the stars and stripes, which had a very pleasing effect, I assure
+you. The landlady's daughter sent a richly bound copy of Tupper's
+Poems. On a blank leaf was the following, written in a very delicate
+and careful hand:--
+
+  Presented to... by...
+    On the eve ere her union in holy matrimony.
+      May sunshine ever beam o'er her!
+
+Even the poor relative thought she must do something, and sent a copy
+of "The Whole Duty of Man," bound in very attractive variegated
+sheepskin, the edges nicely marbled. From the divinity-student came the
+loveliest English edition of "Keble's Christian Tear." I opened it,
+when it came, to the _Fourth Sunday in Lent_, and read that angelic
+poem, sweeter than anything I can remember since Xavier's "My God, I
+love thee."----I am not a Churchman,--I don't believe in planting oaks
+in flower-pots,--but such a poem as "The Rose-bud" makes one's heart a
+proselyte to the culture it grows from. Talk about it as much as you
+like,--one's breeding shows itself nowhere more than in his religion. A
+man should be a gentleman in his hymns and prayers; the fondness for
+"scenes," among vulgar saints, contrasts so meanly with that--
+
+  "God only and good angels look
+  Behind the blissful scene,"--
+
+and that other,--
+
+  "He could not trust his melting soul
+  But in his Maker's sight,"--
+
+that I hope some of them will see this, and read the poem, and profit
+by it.
+
+My laughing and winking young friend undertook to procure and arrange
+the flowers for the table, and did it with immense zeal. I never saw
+him look happier than when he came in, his hat saucily on one side, and
+a cheroot in his mouth, with a huge bunch of tea-roses, which he said
+were for "Madam."
+
+One of the last things that came was an old square box, smelling of
+camphor, tied and sealed. It bore, in faded ink, the marks, "Calcutta,
+1805." On opening it, we found a white Cashmere shawl, with a very
+brief note from the dear old gentleman opposite, saying that he had
+kept this some years, thinking he might want it, and many more, not
+knowing what to do with it,--that he had never seen it unfolded since
+he was a young super-cargo,--and now, if she would spread it on her
+shoulders, it would make him feel young to look at it.
+
+Poor Bridget, or Biddy, our red-armed maid of all work! What must she
+do but buy a small copper breast-pin and put it under "Schoolma'am's"
+plate that morning, at breakfast? And Schoolma'am would wear
+it,--though I made her cover it, as well as I could, with a tea-rose.
+
+It was my last breakfast as a boarder, and I could not leave them in
+utter silence.
+
+Good-bye,--I said,--my dear friends, one and all of you! I have been
+long with you, and I find it hard parting. I have to thank you for a
+thousand courtesies, and above all for the patience and indulgence with
+which you have listened to me when I have tried to instruct or amuse
+you. My friend the Professor (who, as well as my friend the Poet, is
+unavoidably absent on this interesting occasion) has given me reason to
+suppose that he would occupy my empty chair about the first of January
+next. If he comes among you, be kind to him, as you have been to me. May
+the Lord bless you all!--And we shook hands all round the table.
+
+Half an hour afterwards the breakfast things and the cloth were gone. I
+looked up and down the length of the bare boards, over which I had so
+often uttered my sentiments and experiences--and----Yes, I am a man,
+like another.
+
+All sadness vanished, as, in the midst of these old friends of mine,
+whom you know, and others a little more up in the world, perhaps, to
+whom I have not introduced you, I took the schoolmistress before the
+altar from the hands of the old gentleman who used to sit opposite, and
+who would insist on giving her away.
+
+And now we two are walking the long path in peace together. The
+"schoolmistress" finds her skill in teaching called for again, without
+going abroad to seek little scholars. Those visions of mine have all
+come true.
+
+I hope you all love me none the less for anything I have told you.
+Farewell!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+THE DOT AND LINE ALPHABET.
+
+
+Just in the triumph week of that Great Telegraph which takes its name
+from the ATLANTIC MONTHLY, I read in the September number of that
+journal the revelations of an observer who was surprised to find that
+he had the power of reading, as they run, the revelations of the wire.
+I had the hope that he was about to explain to the public the more
+general use of this instrument,--which, with a stupid fatuity, the
+public has, as yet, failed to grasp. Because its signals have been
+first applied by means of electro-magnetism, and afterwards by means of
+the chemical power of electricity, the many-headed people refuses to
+avail itself, as it might do very easily, of the same signals, for the
+simpler transmission of intelligence,--whatever the power employed.
+
+The great invention of Mr. Morse is his register and alphabet. He
+himself eagerly disclaims any pretension to the original conception of
+the use of electricity as an errand-boy. Hundreds of people had thought
+of that and suggested it; but Morse was the first to give the
+errand-boy such a written message, that he could not lose it on the
+way, nor mistake it when he arrived. The public, eager to thank Morse,
+as he deserves, thanks him for something he did not invent. For this he
+probably cares very little. Nor do I care more. But the public does not
+thank him for what he did originate,--this invaluable and simple
+alphabet. Now, as I use it myself in every detail of life, and see
+every hour how the public might use it, if it chose, I am really sorry
+for this negligence,--both on the score of his fame, and of general
+convenience.
+
+Please to understand, then, ignorant Reader, that this curious alphabet
+reduces all the complex machinery of Cadmus and the rest of the
+writing-masters to characters as simple as can be made by a dot, a
+space, and a line, variously combined. Thus, the marks [Morse code:
+.-.] designate the letter A. The marks [Morse code: -...] designate the
+letter B. All the other letters are designated in as simple a manner.
+
+Now I am stripping myself of one of the private comforts of my life,
+(but what will one not do for mankind?) when I explain that this simple
+alphabet need not be confined to electrical signals. _Long_ and _short_
+make it all,--and wherever long and short can be combined, be it in
+marks, sounds, sneezes, fainting-fits, canes, or children, ideas can be
+conveyed by this arrangement of the long and short together. Only last
+night I was talking scandal with Mrs. Wilberforce at a summer party at
+the Hammersmiths. To my amazement, my wife, who scarcely can play "The
+Fisher's Hornpipe," interrupted us by asking Mrs. Wilberforce if she
+could give her the idea of an air in "The Butcher of Turin."
+
+Mrs. Wilberforce had never heard that opera,--indeed, had never heard
+of it. My angel-wife was surprised,--stood thrumming at the
+piano,--wondered she could not catch this very odd bit of discordant
+accord at all,--but checked herself in her effort, as soon as I
+observed that her long notes and short notes, in their tum-tee,
+tee,--tee-tee, tee-tum tum, meant, "He's her brother." The conversation
+on her side turned from "The Butcher of Turin," and I had just time, on
+the hint thus given me by Mrs. I., to pass a grateful eulogium on the
+distinguished statesman whom Mrs. Wilberforce, with all a sister's
+care, had rocked in his baby-cradle,--whom, but for my wife's long and
+short notes, I should have clumsily abused among the other statesmen of
+the day.
+
+You will see, in an instant, awakening Reader, that it is not the
+business simply of "operators" in telegraphic dens to know this Morse
+alphabet, but your business, and that of every man and woman. If our
+school-committees understood the times, it would be taught, even before
+phonography or physiology, at school. I believe both these sciences now
+precede the old English alphabet.
+
+As I write these words, the bell of the South Congregational strikes
+dong, dong, dong;--dong, dong, dong, dong,--dong,--dong. Nobody has
+unlocked the church-door. The old tin sign, "In case of fire, the key
+will be found at the opposite house," has long since been taken down,
+and made into the nose of a water-pot. Yet there is no Goody Two-Shoes
+locked in. No! But, thanks to Dr. Channing's Fire-Alarm, the bell is
+informing the South End that there is a fire in District
+Dong-dong-dong,--that is to say, District No. 3. Before I have
+explained to you so far, the "Eagle" engine, with a good deal of noise,
+has passed the house on its way to that fated district. An immense
+improvement this on the old system, when the engines radiated from
+their houses in every possible direction, and the fire was extinguished
+by the few machines whose lines of quest happened to cross each other
+at the particular place where the child had been building cob-houses
+out of lucifer-matches in a paper-warehouse. Yes, it is a very great
+improvement. All those persons, like you and me, who have no property
+in District Dong-dong-dong, can now sit at home at ease,--and little
+need we think upon the mud above the knees of those who have property
+in that district and are running to look after it. But for them the
+improvement only brings misery. You arrive wet, hot or cold, or both,
+at the large District No. 3, to find that the lucifer-matches were half
+a mile from your store,--and that your own private watchman, even, had
+not been waked by the working of the distant engines. Wet
+property-holder, as you walk home, consider this. When you are next in
+the Common Council, vote an appropriation for applying Morse's alphabet
+of long and short to the bells. Then they can be made to sound
+intelligibly. Daung ding ding,--ding,--ding daung,--daung daung daung,
+and so on, will tell you, as you wake in the night, that it is Mr. B.'s
+store which is on fire, and not yours, or that it is yours, and not
+his. This is not only a convenience to you and a relief to your wife
+and family, who will thus be spared your excursions to unavailable and
+unsatisfactory fires, and your somewhat irritated return,--it will be a
+great relief to the Fire Department. How placid the operations of a
+fire where none attend except on business! The various engines arrive,
+but no throng of distant citizens, men and boys, fearful of the
+destruction of their all. They have all roused on their pillows to
+learn that it is No. 530 Pearl Street which is in flames. All but the
+owner of No. 530 Pearl Street have dropped back to sleep. He alone has
+rapidly repaired to the scene. That is he, who stands in the uncrowded
+street with the Chief Engineer, on the deck of No. 18, as she plays
+away. His property destroyed, the engines retire,--he mentions the
+amount of his insurance to those persons who represent the daily press,
+they all retire to their homes,--and the whole is finished as simply,
+almost, as was his private entry in his day-book the afternoon before.
+
+This is what might be, if the magnetic alarm only struck _long_ and
+_short_, and we had all learned Morse's alphabet. Indeed, there is
+nothing the bells could not tell, if you would only give them time
+enough. We have only one chime, for musical purposes, in the town. But,
+without attempting tunes, only give the bells the Morse alphabet, and
+every bell in Boston might chant in monotone the words of "Hail
+Columbia" at length, every Fourth of July. Indeed, if Mr. Barnard
+should report any day that a discouraged 'prentice-boy had left town
+for his country home, all the bells could instantly be set to work to
+speak articulately, in language regarding which the dullest imagination
+need not be at loss,
+
+  "Turn again, Higginbottom,
+  Lord Mayor of Boston!"
+
+I have suggested the propriety of introducing this alphabet into the
+primary schools. I need not say I have taught it to my own
+children,--and I have been gratified to see how rapidly it made head,
+against the more complex alphabet, in the grammar schools. Of course it
+does;--an alphabet of two characters matched against one of
+twenty-six,--or of forty-odd, as the very odd one of the phono-typists
+employs! On the Franklin-medal-day I went to the Johnson-School
+examination. One of the committee asked a nice girl, what was the
+capital of Brazil. The child looked tired and pale, and, for an
+instant, hesitated. But, before she had time to commit herself, all
+answering was rendered impossible by an awful turn of whooping-cough
+which one of my own sons was seized with,--who had gone to the
+examination with me. Hawm, hem hem;--hem hem hem;--hem, hem;--hawm, hem
+hem;--hem hem hem;--hem, hem,--barked the poor child, who was at the
+opposite extreme of the school-room. The spectators and the committee
+looked to see him fall dead with a broken blood-vessel. I confess that
+I felt no alarm, after I observed that some of his gasps were long and
+some very staccato;--nor did pretty little Mabel Warren. She recovered
+her color,--and, as soon as silence was in the least restored,
+answered, "_Rio_ is the capital of Brazil,"--as modestly and properly
+as if she had been taught it in her cradle. They are nothing but
+children, any of them,--but that afternoon, after they had done all the
+singing the city needed for its annual entertainment of the singers, I
+saw Bob and Mabel start for a long expedition into West Roxbury,--and
+when he came back, I know it was a long featherfew, from her prize
+school-bouquet, that he pressed in his Greene's "Analysis," with a
+short frond of maiden's hair.
+
+I hope nobody will write a letter to "The Atlantic," to say that these
+are very trifling uses. The communication of useful information is
+never trifling. It is as important to save a nice child from
+mortification on examination-day, as it is to tell Mr. Fremont that he
+is not elected President. If, however, the reader is distressed,
+because these illustrations do not seem to his more benighted
+observation to belong to the big bow-wow strain of human life, let him
+consider the arrangement which ought to have been made years since, for
+lee shores, railroad collisions, and that curious class of maritime
+accidents where one steamer runs into another under the impression that
+she is a light-house. Imagine the Morse alphabet applied to a
+steam-whistle, which is often heard five miles. It needs only _long_
+and _short_ again. "_Stop Comet_," for instance, when you send it down
+the railroad line, by the wire, is expressed thus: ... - .. .... .. .
+.. -- . - Very good message, if Comet happens to be at the telegraph
+station when it comes! But what if Comet has gone by? Much good will
+your trumpery message do then! If, however, you have the wit to sound
+your long and short on an engine-whistle, thus:--Scre scre, scre;
+screeee; scre scre; scre scre scre scre; scre scre--scre, scre scre,
+screeeee scrceeee; scre; screeeee;--why, then the whole neighborhood,
+for five miles round, will know that Comet must stop, if only they
+understand spoken language,--and, among others, the engineman of Comet
+will understand it; and Comet will not run into that wreck of worlds
+which gives the order,--with his nucleus of hot iron and his tail of
+five hundred tons of coal.--So, of the signals which fog-bells
+can give, attached to light-houses. How excellent to have them
+proclaim through the darkness, "I am Wall"! Or of signals for
+steamship-engineers. When our friends were on board the "Arabia" the
+other day, and she and the "Europa" pitched into each other,--as if, on
+that happy week, all the continents were to kiss and join hands all
+round,--how great the relief to the passengers on each, if, through
+every night of their passage, collision had been prevented by this
+simple expedient! One boat would have screamed, "Europa, Europa,
+Europa," from night to morning,--and the other, "Arabia, Arabia,
+Arabia,"--and neither would have been mistaken, as one unfortunately
+was, for a light-house.
+
+The long and short of it is, that whoever can mark distinctions of time
+can use this alphabet of long-and-short, however he may mark them. It
+is, therefore, within the compass of all intelligent beings, except
+those who are no longer conscious of the passage of time, having
+exchanged its limitations for the wider sweep of eternity. The
+illimitable range of this alphabet, however, is not half disclosed when
+this has been said. Most articulate language addresses itself to one
+sense, or at most to two, sight and sound. I see, as I write, that the
+particular illustrations I have given are all of them confined to
+signals seen or signals heard. But the dot-and-line alphabet, in the
+few years of its history, has already shown that it is not restricted
+to these two senses, but makes itself intelligible to all. Its message,
+of course, is heard as well as read. Any good operator understands the
+sounds of its ticks upon the flowing strip of paper, as well as when he
+sees it. As he lies in his cot at midnight, he will expound the passing
+message without striking a light to see it. But this is only what may
+be said of any written language. You can read this article to your
+wife, or she can read it, as she prefers; that is, she chooses whether
+it shall address her eye or her ear. But the long-and-short alphabet of
+Morse and his imitators despises such narrow range. It addresses
+whichever of the five senses the listener chooses. This fact is
+illustrated by a curious set of anecdotes--never yet put in print, I
+think--of that critical dispatch which in one night announced General
+Taylor's death to this whole land. Most of the readers of these lines
+probably read that dispatch in the morning's paper. The compositors and
+editors had read it. To them it was a dispatch to the eye. But half the
+operators at the stations _heard_ it ticked out, by the register
+stroke, and knew it before they wrote it down for the press. To them it
+was a dispatch to the ear. My good friend Langenzunge had not that
+resource. He had just been promised, by the General himself, (under
+whom he served at Palo Alto,) the office of Superintendent of the
+Rocky-Mountain Lines. He was returning from Washington over the
+Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, on a freight-train, when he heard of the
+President's danger. Langenzunge loved Old Rough and Ready,--and he felt
+badly about his own office, too. But his extempore train chose to stop
+at a forsaken shanty-village on the Potomac, for four mortal hours, at
+midnight. What does he do, but walk down the line into the darkness,
+climb a telegraph-post, cut a wire, and apply the two ends to his
+tongue, to _taste_, at the fatal moment, the words, "Died at half past
+ten." Poor Langenzunge! he hardly had nerve to solder the wire again.
+Cogs told me that they had just fitted up the Naguadavick stations with
+Bain's chemical revolving disc. This disc is charged with a salt of
+potash, which, when the electric spark passes through it, is changed to
+Prussian blue. Your dispatch is noiselessly written in dark blue dots
+and lines.
+
+Just as the disc started on that fatal dispatch, and Cogs bent over it
+to read, his spirit-lamp blew up,--as the dear things will. They were
+beside themselves in the lonely, dark office; but, while the men were
+fumbling for matches, which would not go, Cogs's sister, Nydia, a sweet
+blind girl, who had learned Bain's alphabet from Dr. Howe at South
+Boston, bent over the chemical paper, and _smelt_ out the prussiate of
+potash, as it formed itself in lines and dots to tell the sad story.
+Almost anybody used to reading the blind books can read the embossed
+Morse messages with the finger,--and so this message was read at all
+the midnight way-stations where no night-work is expected, and where
+the companies do not supply fluid or oil. Within my narrow circle of
+acquaintance, therefore, there were these simultaneous instances, where
+the same message was seen, heard, smelled, tasted, and felt. So
+universal is the dot-and-line alphabet,--for Bain's is on the same
+principle as Morse's.
+
+The reader sees, therefore, first, that the dot-and-line alphabet can
+be employed by any being who has command of any long and short
+symbols,--be they long and short notches, such as Robinson Crusoe kept
+his accounts with, or long and short waves of electricity, such as
+these which Valentia is sending across to the Newfoundland Bay, so
+prophetically and appropriately named "The Bay of Bulls." Also, I hope
+the reader sees that the alphabet can be understood by any intelligent
+being who has any one of the five senses left him,--by all rational
+men, that is, excepting the few eyeless deaf persons who have lost both
+taste and smell in some complete paralysis. The use of Morse's
+telegraph is by no means confined to the small clique who possess or
+who understand electrical batteries. It is not only the torpedo or the
+_Gymnotus electricus_ that can send us messages from the ocean. Whales
+in the sea can telegraph as well as senators on land, if they will only
+note the difference between long spoutings and short ones. And they can
+listen, too. If they will only note the difference between long and
+short, the eel of Ocean's bottom may feel on his slippery skin the
+smooth messages of our Presidents, and the catfish, in his darkness,
+look fearless on the secrets of a Queen. Any beast, bird, fish, or
+insect, which can discriminate between long and short, may use the
+telegraphic alphabet, if he have sense enough. Any creature, which can
+hear, smell, taste, feel, or see, may take note of its signals, if he
+can understand them. A tired listener at church, by properly varying
+his long yawns and his short ones, may express his opinion of the
+sermon to the opposite gallery before the sermon is done. A dumb
+tobacconist may trade with his customers in an alphabet of short-sixes
+and long-nines. A beleaguered Sebastopol may explain its wants to the
+relieving army beyond the line of the Chernaya, by the lispings of its
+short Paixhans and its long twenty-fours.
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+_Études sur Pascal_. Par M. VICTOR COUSIN. Cinqième Edition, revue et
+augmentée. Paris: 1857. pp. 566. 8vo.
+
+We render hearty thanks to M. Cousin for this new edition of a favorite
+work. No library which contains Pascal's "Provinciales" and "Pensées"
+should be without it.
+
+"Of all the monuments of the French language," says M. Cousin, in the
+_Avant-propos_ to this new edition, "none is more celebrated than the
+work 'Les Pensées,' and French literature possesses no artist more
+consummate than Pascal. Do not expect to find in this young
+geometrician, so soon consumed by disease and passion, the breadth,
+surface, and infinite variety of Bossuet, who, supported by vast and
+uninterrupted study, rose and rose until he gained the loftiest reaches
+of intellect and art, and commanded at pleasure every tone and every
+style. Pascal did not fulfil all his destiny. Besides the mathematics
+and natural philosophy he knew scarcely more than a little theology,
+and he barely passed through good society. It is true, Pascal passed
+away from earth quickly; but during his short life he discerned
+glimpses of the _beau ideal_, he attached himself to it with all his
+heart and soul and strength, and he never allowed anything to leave his
+hands unless it bore its lively impress. So great was his passion for
+perfection, that unchallenged tradition tells us he wrote the
+seventeenth 'Provinciale' thirteen times over. 'Les Pensées' are merely
+fragments of the great work on which he consumed the last years of his
+life; but these fragments sometimes present so finished a beauty, that
+we do not know which most to admire, the grandeur and vigor of the
+sentiments and ideas, or the delicacy and depth of the art."
+
+This praise is unexaggerated. What a career was run by this genius!
+Discovering the science of geometry at twelve years of age,--next
+inventing the arithmetical machine,--discovering atmospheric pressure,
+while every philosopher was prating about "Nature's horror of a
+vacuum,"--inventing the wheelbarrow, to divert his mind from the pains
+of the toothache, and succeeding,--inventing the theory of
+probabilities,--establishing the first omnibuses that ever relieved the
+public,--then writing the "Provinciales,"--dying at thirty-three,
+leaving behind him two small volumes (you may carry them in your
+pocket) which are the unchallengeable title-deeds of his immortal fame,
+the favorite works of Gibbon, Voltaire, Macaulay, and Cousin! Where
+else can so crowded and so short a career be found?
+
+It is scarcely possible to repress a smile in reading this work and
+discovering the patient care with which M. Cousin avoids speaking of
+the "Provinciales." And it is strange to say (no contemptible proof of
+the influence exercised by the Church of Rome, even when checked as it
+is in France) that no decent edition of the "Provinciales" can be found
+in the French language. While we possess M. Cousin's "Études sur
+Pascal," and M. Havet's edition of "Les Pensées," the only editions of
+"Les Provinciales" of recent date are the miserable publications of
+Charpentier and the Didots. Editions of Voltaire and Rousseau are
+numerous, elaborate, and elegant; for atheism is pardoned much more
+easily than abhorrence of the Jesuits.
+
+The volume named at the head of this article contains a great many
+valuable documents relating to Pascal and his family: all of Pascal's
+correspondence known to exist, including his celebrated letter on the
+death of Étienne Pascal, his father, which is usually printed in "Les
+Pensées," being cut up into short sentences to fit it for that work, a
+large part of it being omitted; his singular essay on Love; curious
+details concerning the De Roanner family; an essay on the true text of
+the "Pensées"; a curious fac-simile of a page of that work; and a
+discussion (perhaps M. Cousin would say a refutation) of Pascal's
+philosophy. But we must protest against the easy manner in which M.
+Cousin wears his honors. When a book has reached its fifth edition and
+is evidently destined to a good many more during the author's lifetime,
+he lies under an obligation to place the new information he may have
+collected, and the additional thoughts which may have occurred to him,
+during the intervals between the different editions, in a form more
+convenient to the render than new prefaces and new notes. To master the
+information contained in this work is no recreation, but a severe task,
+and one not to be accomplished except upon repeated perusals of the
+book. This is the more inexcusable because M. Cousin is now free from
+all official and professional cares; and it would involve the less
+labor to him, as he never writes, but dictates all his compositions.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_Belle Brittan on a Tour; at Newport, and Here and There._ New York:
+Derby & Jackson. 1858.
+
+The compulsion of hunger, or the request of friends, was the excuse for
+the printing of sorry books in Pope's time; and it has not become
+obsolete yet. The writer of the book, the title of which we have given
+above, pleads the latter alternative as the occasion of this
+publication. He says it was "a few friends" that preferred this
+request. It is unfortunate for him that he had any so void of judgment
+and empty of taste. He thinks his Letters will "receive unjust
+censure," as well as "undue praise." We think that he may relieve his
+mind of any such apprehension. We cannot think his book at all likely
+to receive more dispraise than it richly merits. A more discreditable
+one, not absolutely indictable, we hope, has seldom issued from the
+American press.
+
+What motive the author had in assuming a female character, we know not.
+He certainly has been very unfortunate in his female acquaintance, if
+he accurately imitates their tone of thought and style of talk, in his
+letters. Should they happen to fall in the way of any foreigners, we
+beg them to believe that this is not the way in which American women
+converse. But we think that there can scarcely be a cockney so spoony
+as not to "spy a great peard under her muffler," and know that it is a
+man awkwardly masquerading in women's clothes. It is a libel on the
+women of the country, to put such balderdash into the mouth of one who
+may be supposed to have been finished at a fifth-rate boarding-school.
+
+The letters are in the worst style of the "Own Correspondents" of
+third-rate papers. The "_deadhead_" perks itself in your face at every
+turn, in flunkeyish gratitude for invitations, drinks, dinners, and
+free passes,--from "the gentlemanly Lord Napier," down to "intelligent
+and gentlemanly" railway-conductors, "gentlemanly and attentive"
+hotel-clerks, "gracious, gentlemanly, and gallant" tavern-keepers, and
+their "lovely and accomplished brides." The soul of a footman is
+expressed by the pen of an abigail,--and the one not a Humphrey
+Clinker, nor the other a Winifred Jenkins,--and we are expected to
+admire the result as a good imitation of a lively, intelligent,
+well-bred American young lady! We protest against the profanation.
+
+The letters take a wide range of subject, and treat of "Shakspeare,
+taste, and the musical glasses," in a vein that would have done no
+discredit to Lady Blarney and Miss Arabella Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs
+themselves. We might divert our readers with some specimens of
+criticism, or opinion, did our limits admit of such entertainment. We
+can only inform them, on Belle Brittan's authority, that worthy Dr.
+Charles Mackay, who suffers throughout the book from intermittent--nay,
+chronic--attacks of puffery, is "one of the best living poets of
+England"; Mademoiselle Lamoureux, the _danseuse_, is "better than
+Ellsler"; and pretty Mrs. John Wood, the lively _soubrette_ of the
+Boston Theatre, "possesses many of the rarest requisites of a great
+actress"! But these are inanities which an inexperienced and
+half-taught girl might possibly utter in a familiar letter. Not so, we
+trust, as to the belief expressed by Belle Brittan, in puffing "Jim
+Parton's, Fanny Fern's Jim's," Life of Burr,--"more charming than a
+novel," because, as she implies, of the successful libertinism of its
+hero,--when she says, speaking in the name of the maidens of America,
+"We all, I suppose, must fall, like our first parents, when the hour of
+_our_ temptation comes"!
+
+We should not have given the space we have bestowed on this worthless
+book, had it not been made the occasion of newspaper puffs innumerable,
+recommending it to the public as something worthy of their time and
+money. It is one of the worst signs of our time that a false
+good-nature or imperfect taste should lead respectable papers to give
+currency to books destitute of all merit, by the application to them of
+stereotyped phrases of commendation. These letters, without a grace of
+style, without a flash of wit, without a genial ray of humor, deformed
+by coarse breeding, vulgar self-conceit, and ignorant assumption, are
+bepraised as if they were fresh from the mint of genius, and bore the
+image and superscription of Madame de Sévigné or Lady Mary Wortley!
+This evil must be cured, or the daily press may find that it will cure
+itself.
+
+We know nothing of the author of this book, excepting what he has here
+shown us of himself. He may be capable of better things, and when they
+come before us, we shall rejoice to do them justice. But we advise him,
+first of all, to discard his disguise, which becomes him as ill as the
+gown of Mrs. Ford's "maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brentford," did Sir
+John Falstaff. Or, if he will persist in playing the part of a woman,
+let him bear in mind that to be unmanly is not necessarily to be
+womanly, and that it does not follow that one writes like a lady
+because he does _not_ write like a gentleman.
+
+_Appleton's Cyclopaedia of Drawing_. Designed as a Text-book for the
+Mechanic, Architect, Engineer, and Surveyor. Comprising Geometrical
+Projection, Mechanical, Architectural, and Topographical Drawing,
+Perspective, and Isometry. Edited by W.E. WORTHEN. New York: D.
+Appleton & Co. 1857.
+
+Mr. Worthen has given us in this book a most judicious and complete
+compilation of the best works on the various branches of "practical"
+drawing,--having, with real thoughtfulness and knowledge of what was
+needed in a handbook, condensed all the most important rules and
+directions to be found in the works of MM. Le Brun and Armengaud on
+geometrical and mechanical drawing, Ferguson and Garbett on
+architectural, and Williams, Gillespie, Smith, and Frome, on
+topographical drawing.
+
+It includes a very full chapter of geometrical definitions, a complete
+and minute description of all the implements of mechanical drawing, and
+solutions of all the useful problems of geometrical drawing,--a part of
+the work especially needed by practical mechanics, and hitherto to be
+found, so far as we know, only in the form of results in the
+pocket-books of tables, or in the lengthy and elaborate treatises of
+the heavy cyclopaedias, or works specially devoted to the topic.
+
+There is an admirably condensed treatise on the mechanical powers,
+containing all the problems of use in construction, with tables of the
+mechanical properties of materials. In mechanical drawing there are
+directions for the most complicated drawings, going up to the last
+improvements in the steam-engine. The same completeness of elementary
+instruction marks the section on architectural drawing, though in this
+department we should have liked a fuller and better-chosen series of
+examples, especially of domestic architecture,--an Italian villa
+planned by Mr. Upjohn being the only really tasteful and appropriate
+dwelling-house given. The designs by Downing, rarely much more than
+commodious residences with great neatness rather than artistic beauty,
+stand very well for that style of building which consults comfort and
+attains it, but it is a misuse of words to call them artistic.
+Picturesque they may be at times, but often the affectation of external
+style puts Downing's designs into the category of Gothic follies and
+Grecian villanies, in which the outside gives the lie to the
+inside,--emulating in wood the forms of stone, giving to cottages on
+whose roof snow will never lie three inches deep all the pitch a Swiss
+_châlet_ would need. We are especially sorry to see a plate of Thomas's
+house in Fifth Avenue, New York,--the most absurd and ludicrous pile of
+building material which can be found on the avenue,--and to find such
+evidence of taste as is shown by the editor's commendation of it as
+"uniting richness and grandeur of effect," "admirably suited," etc. Mr.
+Worthen, however, generally abstains from much expression of opinion as
+to styles or the respective merits of works.
+
+His examples of the steam-engine are nearly all from American models,
+and include the oscillating engines of the "Golden Gate," the last
+important advance in the construction of the marine engine; for,
+although the form of the oscillator has been known for years, it had
+never been applied to marine uses until the success of the "Golden
+Gate" proved its applicability to the heaviest engines. The examples of
+architectural details and ornaments are copious, and represent all
+styles with great fairness; but there is much confusion in the
+numbering of the plates, so that it is a problem at times to find the
+illustration desired.
+
+The tinted illustrations, though answering their proposed purpose, are
+a disgrace to the art of lithotinting,--coarse, ineffective, and cheap.
+The publishers, we think, would have profited by a little more
+liberality in this respect.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY, VOLUME 2,
+ISSUE 12, OCTOBER, 1858***
+
+
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 2, Issue 12,
+October, 1858, by Various
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 2, Issue 12, October, 1858
+
+Author: Various
+
+Release Date: December 11, 2003  [eBook #10435]
+[Date last updated: July 2, 2005]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: US-ASCII
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY, VOLUME 2,
+ISSUE 12, OCTOBER, 1858***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Joshua Hutchinson, Keith M. Eckrich, and Project
+Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders
+
+
+
+THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY.
+
+A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.
+
+VOL. II.--OCTOBER, 1858.--NO. XII.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE NEW WORLD AND THE NEW MAN.
+
+Half a dozen rivulets leap down the western declivity of the Rocky
+Mountains, and unite; four thousand miles away the mighty Missouri
+debouches into the Mexican Gulf as the result of that junction. Did the
+rivulets propose or plan the river? Not at all; but they knew, each,
+its private need to find a lower level; the universal law they obeyed
+accomplished the rest. So is it with the great human streams. Mighty
+beginnings do not lie in the minds of the beginners. History is a
+perpetual surprise, ever developing results of which men were the
+agents without being the expectants. Individual actors, with respect to
+the master claim of humanity, are, for the most part, not unlike that
+fleet hound which, enticed by a tempting prospect of meat, outran a
+locomotive engine all the way from Lowell to Boston, and won a handsome
+wager for his owner, while intent only on a dinner for himself.
+Humanity is served out of all proportion to the intention of service.
+Even the noble souls, never wanting in history, who follow not a bait,
+but belief, see only in imperfect survey the connections and relations
+of their deeds. Each is faithfully obeying his own inward vocation, a
+voice unheard by other soul than his own, and the inability to
+calculate consequences makes the preeminent grandeur of his position;
+or he is urged by the high inevitable impulse to publish or verify an
+idea: the Divine Destiny _works_ in their hearts, and _plans_ over
+their heads.
+
+Socrates felt a sacred impulse to test his neighbors, what they knew
+and were: this is such account of his life as he himself can give at
+its close. His contemporaries generally saw in him an imperturbable and
+troublesome questioner, fatally sure to come at the secret of every
+man's character and credence, whom no subterfuge could elude, no
+compliments flatter, no menaces appall,--suspected also of some
+emancipation from the popular superstitions: this is the account of him
+which _they_ are able to give. At twenty-three centuries' distance _we_
+see in him the source of a river of spiritual influence, that yet
+streams on, more than a Missouri, in the minds of men,--more than a
+Missouri, for it not only flows as an open current, but, percolating
+beneath the surface, and coming up in distinct and distant fountains,
+it becomes the hidden source of many a constant tide in the faiths and
+philosophies of nations.
+
+The veil covers the eyes of spectators and agents alike. Columbus
+returns, freighted with wondrous tidings, to the Spanish shore; the
+nation rises and claps its hands; the nation kneels to bless its gods
+at all its shrines, and chants its delight in many a choral Te Deum.
+What, then, do they think is gained? Why, El Dorado! Have they not
+gained a whole world of gold and silver mines to buy jewelled cloaks
+and feathers and frippery with? Have they not gained a cornucopia of
+savages, to support new brigades at home by their enslavement, and new
+bishoprics abroad by their salvation? Touching, truly, is the childish
+eagerness and _bonhommie_ with which those Spaniards in fancy assume,
+as it were, between thumb and finger, this continent, deemed to be
+nothing less than gold, and feed with it the leanness of hungry purses;
+and the effect is not a little enhanced by the extreme pains they are
+at to say a sufficient grace over the imagined meal. "Oh, wonderful,
+Pomponius!" shouts the large-minded Peter Martyr. "Upon the surface of
+that earth are found rude masses of gold, of a weight that one fears to
+mention!... Spain is spreading her wings," etc. He is of the minority
+there, who does not suppose this New World a Providential donation to
+aid him to dinners, dances, and dawdling, or at best to promote his
+"glory" and pride of social estimation. Even Columbus, more magnanimous
+than most of his contemporaries, is not so greatly more wise. The
+noblest use he can conceive for his discovery is to aid in the recovery
+of the Holy Sepulchre. With the precious metals that should fall to his
+share, says his biographer, he made haste to vow the raising of a force
+of five thousand horse and fifty thousand foot for the expulsion of the
+Saracens from Jerusalem. Nor is this the only instance in which even
+the noble among men have sought to clutch the grand opening futures,
+and wreathe the beauty of their promise about the consecrated graves of
+the past. "Servants of Sepulchres" is a title which even now, not
+individuals alone, but whole nations, may lawfully claim.
+
+The Old World, we say, seized upon this magnificent new force now
+thrown into history, and harnessed it unsuspiciously to its own car, as
+if it could have been designed for no other possible use. Happily,
+however, the design was different, and Providence having a peculiar
+faculty of protecting its own plans, the holding of the reins after
+such a steed proved anything but a sinecure. Spain, indeed, rode in a
+high chariot for a time, but at length, in that unlucky Armada drive,
+crashed against English oak on the ocean highways, and came off
+creaking and rickety,--grew thenceforth ever more unsteady,--finally,
+came utterly to the ground, with contusions, fractures, and much
+mishap,--and now the poor nation hobbles hypochondriacally upon
+crutches, all its brave charioteering sadly ended. England drove more
+considerately, but could not avoid fate; so in 1783 she, too, must let
+go the rein with some mental disturbance. For the great Destiny was not
+exclusively a European Providence,--had meditated the establishment of
+a fresh and independent human centre on the western side of the sea.
+The excellent citizens of London and Madrid found themselves incapable
+of crediting this until it was duly placarded in gunpowder print.--It
+is, indeed, an unaccountable foible men have, not to recognize a plain
+fact till it has been published in this blazing hieroglyphic. What were
+England and France doing at Sebastopol? Merely issuing a poster to this
+effect,--"Turkey is not yours,"--in a type that Russia could feel free
+to understand. Terribly costly editions these are, and in a type
+utterly hideous; but while nations refuse to see the fact in a more
+agreeable presentation, it may probably feel compelled to go into this
+ugly, but indubitable shape.--Well, somewhat less than a century since,
+England had committed herself to the proposition, that America was
+really a part or dependency of Europe, a lower-caste Europe, having
+about the same relation to the Cisatlantic continent that the farmer's
+barn has to his house. Mild refutations of this modest doctrine having
+been attempted without success, posters in the necessary red-letter
+type were issued at Concord, Bunker Hill, Yorktown, etc., which might
+be translated somewhat thus:--"America has its own independent root in
+the world's centre, its own independent destiny in the Providential
+thought." This important fact, having then and there exploded itself
+into legibility, and come to be known and read of all men, admits now
+of no dispute, and requires no confirmation. It is evidently so. The
+New World is not merely a newly-discovered hay-loft and dairy-stall for
+the Old, but is itself a proper household, of equal dignity with any.
+To draw the due inferences from this, to see what is implied in it, is
+all that we are here required to do.
+
+Be it, then, especially noted that the continent by itself can take no
+such rank. A spirituality must appear to crown and complete this great
+continental body; otherwise America is acephalous. Unless there be an
+American Man, the continent is inevitably but an appendage, a kitchen
+and laundry for the European parlor. American Man,--and the word Man is
+to receive a large emphasis. Observe, that it does not refer to mere
+population. The fact required will hardly be reported in the census.
+Indeed, there is quite too much talk about population, about
+prospective increase of numbers. We are to have thirty millions of
+inhabitants, they say, in 1860; soon forty, fifty, one hundred
+millions. Doubtless; and if that be all, one yawns over the statement.
+Could any prophet assure us of _one_ million of men who would stand for
+the broadest justice as Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans stood
+for Lacedaemon! But Hebrew David was thought to be punished for taking
+a census; nor is the story without significance. To reckon numbers
+alone a success _is_ a sin, and a blunder beside. Russia has sixty
+millions of people: who would not gladly swap her out of the world for
+glorious little Greece back again, and Plato and Aeschylus and
+Epaminondas still there? Who would exchange Concord or Cambridge in
+Massachusetts for any hundred thousand square miles of slave-breeding
+dead-level? Who Massachusetts in whole for as many South American (or
+Southern) republics as would cover Saturn and all his moons? Make sure
+of depth and breadth of soul as the national characteristic; then roll
+up the census columns; and roll out a hallelujah for each additional
+thousand.
+
+Thus had the great Genoese been destined merely to make a new highway
+on the ocean and new lines on the map,--to add the potato, maize, and
+tapioca to the known list of edibles, and tobacco to that of
+narcotics,--to explode Spain, give England a cotton-field, Ireland a
+hospital, and Africa a hell. This could by no means seem sufficient.
+The crew of the Pinta shouted, "Land! Land!"--peering through the dark
+at the new shores; the Spanish nation chanted, "Gold! Gold!"--gazing
+out through murky desires toward the wondrous West; but it is only with
+the cry of "Man! Man!" as at the sight of new cerebral shores and
+wealth of more than golden humanities, that the true America is
+discovered and announced. So whatever reason we have to assert for
+America a really independent existence and destiny, the same have we
+for predicting an opulence of heart and brain, to which Western
+prairies and Californian gold shall seem the natural appurtenance.
+
+And this noble man must be likewise a _new_ man,--not merely a migrated
+European. Western Europe pushed a little farther west does not meet our
+demand. Why should Europe go three thousand miles off to be Europe
+still? Besides, can we afford to England, France, Spain, a larger room
+in the world? Are we more than satisfied with their occupancy of that
+they already possess? The Englishman is undeniably a wholesome picture
+to the mental eye; but will not twenty million copies of him do, for
+the present? It would seem like a poverty in Nature, were she unable to
+vary, but must go helplessly on to reproduce that selfsame British
+likeness over all North America. But history fully warrants the
+expectation of a new form of man for the new continent. German and
+Scandinavian Teutons peopled England; but the Englishman is _sui
+generis_, not merely an exported Teuton. Egypt, says Bunsen, was
+peopled by a colony from Western Asia; but the genius and physiognomy
+of Egypt are peculiar and its own. Mr. Pococke will have it that Greece
+was a migrated India: it was, of course, a migration from some place
+that first planted the Hellenic stock in Europe; but if the man who
+carved the Zeus, and built the Parthenon, and wrote the "Prometheus"
+and the "Phaedrus," were a copy, where shall we find the original?
+Indeed, there has never been a great migration that did not result in a
+new form of national genius. And it is the thoroughness of the
+transformations thus induced which makes the chief difficulty in
+tracing the affinities of peoples.
+
+So it is that the world is enriched. Every new form of man establishes
+another current in those reciprocations of thought, in those electrical
+streams of sympathy,--of wholesome attraction and wholesome
+repulsion,--by which the intellectual life is kindled and quickened.
+Thought begins not until two men meet. Col. Hamilton Smith makes it
+quite clear that civilization has found its first centres there where
+two highways of national movement crossed, and dissimilar men looked
+each other in the face. They have met, it may be, with the rudest kind
+of greetings; but have obtained good thoughts from hard blows, and
+beaten ideas _out_ of each other's heads, if not _into_ them, according
+to the ancient pedagogic tradition. Higher culture brings higher terms
+of meeting; traffic succeeds war, conversation follows upon traffic;
+ever the necessity of various men to each other remains. There is no
+pure white light until seven colors blend; so to the mental
+illumination of humanity many hues of national genius must consent: and
+the value of life to all men is greater so soon as a new man has made
+his advent.
+
+All this is matter of daily experience with us. We do not, indeed, tire
+of old friends. A soul whose wealth we have once recognized must be
+ever rich to us. Gold turns not to copper by keeping; and perhaps old
+friends are rather like old wine, and can never be too old. Yet who
+does not mark in the calendar those days wherein he has met a _new_
+rich soul, that has a physiognomy, a grace and expression, peculiarly
+its own? Even decided repulsions have also a use. We whet our
+conscience on our neighbors' faults, as sober Spartans were made by the
+spectacle of drunken Helots;--though he who makes habitual _talk_ about
+his neighbors' faults whets his conscience across the edge. If there be
+sermons in stones, no less is there blessing in bores and in bullies.
+We found one day in the face of a black bear what could not be so well
+found in libraries. The creature regarded us attentively, and with
+affection rather than malice,--saw simply certain amounts of savory
+flesh, useful for the satisfaction of ursine hungers,--and saw nothing
+more. It was an incomparable lesson to teach that the world is an
+endless series of levels, and that each eye sees what its own altitude
+commands; the rest to it is non-extant. _That_ bear was in his natural
+covering of hair; his brothers we frequently meet in broadcloth.
+
+Now, as Nature keeps up this inexhaustible variety of individual genius
+which individual quickening requires, so on the larger scale is she
+ever working and compounding to produce varieties of national genius.
+Her aim is the same in both cases,--to enrich the whole by this
+electrical and enlivening relation between its parts. And thus an
+American man, no copy, but an original, formed in unprecedented moulds,
+with his own unborrowed grandeur, his own piquancy and charm, is to be
+looked for,--is, indeed, even now to be seen,--on this shore.
+
+Yes, the man we seek is already found, his features rapidly becoming
+distinct. He is the offspring of Northern Europe; he occupies Central
+North-America. Other fresh forms are doubtless to appear, but, though
+dimly shaping themselves, are as yet inchoate. But the Anglo-American
+is an existing fact, to be spoken of without prognostication, save as
+this is implied in the recognition of tendencies established and
+unfolding into results. The Anglo-American may be considered the latest
+new-comer into this planet. Let us, then, a little celebrate his
+advent. Let us make all lawful and gentle inquiry about the
+distinguished stranger.
+
+First, what is his pedigree? He need not be ashamed to tell; for he
+comes of a noble family, the Teutonic,--a family more opulent of human
+abilities, and those, for the most part, the deeper kind of abilities,
+than any other on the earth at present. He reckons among his
+progenitors and relatives such names as Shakspeare, Goethe, Milton, the
+two Bacons, Lessing, Richter, Schiller, Carlyle, Hegel, Luther, Behmen,
+Swedenborg, Gustavus Adolphus, William of Orange, Cromwell, Frederick
+II., Wellington, Newton, Leibnitz, Humboldt, Beethoven, Handel, Turner;
+and nations might be enriched out of the names that remain when the
+supreme ones in each class have been mentioned. Consider what
+incomparable range and variety, as well as depth, of genius are here
+affirmed. Greece and India possessed powers not equally represented
+here; but otherwise these might stand for the full abilities of
+mankind, each in its handsomest illustration.--It is remarkable, too,
+that our Anglo-American has no "poor relations." Not a scurvy nation
+comes of this stock. They are the Protestant nations, giving religion a
+moral expression, and reconciling it with freedom of thought. They are
+the constitutional nations, exacting terms of government that
+acknowledge private right. _Resource_ may also be emphasized as a
+characteristic of these nations. Hitherto they have honored every draft
+that has been made upon them. The Dutch first fished their country out
+from under the sea, and afterwards defended it in a war of eighty
+years' duration against the first military power on the globe: two
+feats, perhaps, equally without parallel.
+
+Being thus satisfied upon the point of pedigree, we may proceed to
+inquire about estate. To what inheritance of land has Nature invited
+our New Man? He comes to the country of highest organization, perhaps,
+upon either hemisphere. Brazil and China suggest, but probably do not
+sustain, a rivalry. What is implied in superior organization will
+appear from the items to be mentioned.
+
+  1. Elaboration. Central North-America is to an extraordinary degree
+worked out everywhere in careful detail, in moderate hill and valley,
+in undulating prairie and fertile plain,--not tossed into barren
+mountain-masses and table-lands, like that vast desert _plateau_ which
+stretches through Central Asia,--not struck out in blank, like the
+Russian _steppes_ and the South American _llanos_, as if Nature had
+wanted leisure to elaborate and finish. Indeed, these primary
+conditions of fertility and large habitability appertain to America, as
+a whole, to such degree, that, with less than half the extent of the
+Old World, it actually numbers more acres of fertile soil, and can, of
+course, sustain a larger population.
+
+  2. Unity. Between the Rocky Mountains and the Atlantic coast, and
+between the Gulf of Mexico and the northern wheat-limit, a larger space
+of fertile territory, embracing a wider variety of climate and
+production, is thrown into one mass, broken by no barrier, than can,
+perhaps, elsewhere be found.
+
+  3. Communication. No mass of land equal in other advantages is to the
+same extent thrown open and enriched by natural highways. The first
+item under this head is access to the ocean, which is the great
+road-space and highway of the world. Not mentioning the Pacific, as
+that coast is not here considered, we have the open sea upon two sides,
+while upon the northern boundary is an inclosed sea, the string of
+lakes, occupying a space larger than Great Britain and Ireland, and of
+a form to afford the greatest amount of coast-line and accommodation in
+proportion to space. But coast-_line_ is not enough; land and sea must
+be wedded as well as approximated. The Doge of Venice went annually
+forth to wed the Adriatic in behalf of its queen, and to cast into its
+bosom the symbolic ring; but Nature alone can really join the hands of
+ocean and main. By bays, estuaries, ports, spaces of sea lovingly
+inclosed by arms of sheltering shore, are conversation and union
+established between them.
+
+"The sea doth wash out all the ills of life," sings Euripides; and it
+is, indeed, with some penetration of wonder that one observes how deep
+and productive a relation to man the ocean has sustained. Some share in
+the greatest enterprises, in the finest results, it seldom fails to
+have. Not capriciously did the subtile Greek imagination derive the
+birth of Venus from the foam of the sea; for social love,--that vast
+reticulation of wedlock which society is--has commonly arisen not far
+from the ocean-shore. The Persian is the only superior civilization,
+now occurring to our recollection, which has no intimate relation
+either with river or sea; and that pushed inevitably toward the Tigris
+and Euphrates. Now to Europe must be conceded the supremacy in this
+single respect, that of representing the most intimate coast relation
+with the sea; North America follows next in order. Africa, washed, but
+not wedded, by the wave, represents the greatest seclusion,--and has
+gone into a sable suit in her sorrow. After the ocean, rivers, which
+are interior highways, claim regard. The United States have on this
+side the Rocky Mountains more than forty thousand miles of river-flow,
+that is, eighty thousand miles of river-bank,--counting no stream of
+less than one hundred miles in length. Europe, in a larger space, has
+but seventeen thousand miles. The American rivers are nearly all
+accessible from the ocean, and, owing to the gentle elevation of the
+continent, flow at easy declivities, and accordingly are largely
+navigable. The Mississippi descends at an average of only eight inches
+_per_ mile from source to mouth; the Missouri is said to be navigable
+to the very base of the Rocky Mountains; and these monarch streams
+represent the rivers of the continent. Thus here do these highways of
+God's own making run, as it were, past every man's door, and connect
+each man with the world he lives in.
+
+Rivers await their due celebration. We easily see that Nile, Ganges,
+Euphrates, Jordan, Tiber, Thames, are rivers of influence in human
+history, no less than water-currents on the earth's surface. They have
+borne barks and barges that the eye never saw. They have brought on
+their soft bosoms freight to the cities of the brain, as well as to
+Memphis, Rome, London. Some experience of their spiritual influence
+must have fallen to the lot of most men. The loved and lovely Merrimac
+no longer accedes to the writer's eye, but, as of old, glides securely
+seaward in his thought,--like a strain of masterly music long ago
+heard, and, when heard, identical in its suggestions with the total
+significance and vital progress of one's experience, that, intertwining
+itself as a twin thread with the shuttled fibre of life, it was woven
+into the same fabric, and became an inseparable part of the
+consciousness; so, hearken when one will, after the changes and
+accessions of many peopled years, and amid the thousand-footed trample
+of the mob of immediate impressions, still secure and predominant it is
+heard subtly sounding. Deep conversation with any river readily
+interprets to us that venerable mythus which connects Eden with the
+four rivers of the world; as if water must flow where man is chiefly
+blest.
+
+But the point here to be emphasized is, that rivers are the progressive
+and public element in its geographical expression. They throw the
+continent open; they are doors and windows, through which the nations
+look forth upon the world, and leave and enter their own household.
+They are the hospitality of the continent,--every river-mouth chanting
+out over the sea a perpetual, "Walk in," to all the world. Or again,
+they are geographical senses,--eyes, ears, and speech; for of these
+supreme mediators in the body, voice, vision, and hearing, it is the
+office, as of rivers, to open communication between the interior and
+exterior world; they are rivers of access to the outlying universe of
+men and things, which enters them, and approaches the soul through the
+freighted suggestions of sight and sound. Rivers, lastly, are the
+geographical symbol of public spirit, the flowing and connecting
+element, suggesting common interests and large systems of action.
+
+Thus in these characteristics of Various Productiveness, Unity, and
+Openness or Publicity, the continent indicates the description of man
+who may be its fit habitant. It suggests a nation vast in numbers and
+in power, existing not as an aggregate of fragments, but as an organic
+unit, the vital spirit of the whole prevailing in each of its parts;
+and consequently predicts a man suitable for wide and yet intimate
+societies. Let us not, however, thoughtlessly jump to accept these easy
+prognostics; first let it be fully understood what an enormous demand
+they imply. Americans speak complacently of their prospective one
+hundred millions of inhabitants; but do they bear well in mind that the
+requisition upon the individual is augmented by every multiplication
+and extension of the mass? It is not without significance, that great
+empires have uniformly been, or become, despotisms. Liberty lives only
+in the life of just principle; and as the weight of an elephant could
+not be sustained by the skeleton of a gazelle,--as, moreover, the bones
+must be made stouter as well as longer,--so must a vast body politic be
+permeated by a sturdier element of justice than is required for a
+diminutive state. It is, indeed, the chief recommendation of our
+federative form of government, that this, so far as may be, localizes
+legislation, and thus, by lessening the number of interests that demand
+a national consent, lessens equally the strain upon the conscience and
+judgment of the whole. Near at hand, the mere good feeling of
+neighbors, the companionable sentiment of cities and clans, proves a
+valuable succedaneum for that deeper principle which is good for all
+places and times. But this sentiment, like gravitation, diminishes in
+the ratio of the square of the distance, and at any considerable remove
+can no longer be reckoned upon as a counter-balance to the lawlessness
+of egotism. Athenians could be passably just, or at least not
+disastrously unjust, to Athenians; Spartans to Spartans; but Sparta
+must needs oppress the other cities of Laconia, while Athens was at
+best a fickle ally; and when Grecian liberty could be strong only in
+Grecian union, the common sentiment was bankrupted by too great a draft
+upon its resources. How far beyond the range of egotism of neighborhood
+a _free_ state may go is determined chiefly by limits in the souls of
+its constituents. At that point where equal justice begins to halt,
+fatigued by too long a journey, the inevitable boundaries of the state
+are fixed. Nor is it the mere sentiment of justice alone that suffices;
+but this must be sustained in its applications by a certain breadth of
+nature, a certain freedom and flexibility, akin to the dramatic
+faculty, which enables us to enter into the feelings and wants of
+others. Nothing, perhaps, in the world can be so unjust as a narrow and
+frigid conscience beyond its proper range. The bounds of the state may,
+indeed, not pause where the sustenance of its integral life fails. But
+then its extension will be purchased with its freedom,--the quality be
+debased as the quantity increases. Jelly-fish, and creatures of the
+lowest animation, may sustain magnitude of body, not only with a slight
+skeleton, but with none at all; and society of a cold-blooded or
+bloodless kind follows the analogy. But these low grades of social
+organization, having some show of congruity with the blank levels of
+Russia, can pretend to none with the continent we inhabit. Yet some
+species of arbitrament between man and man is sure to establish itself;
+if it live not, as a part of freedom, in the bosom of each, then does
+it inevitably build itself into a Fate over their heads; and despotism,
+war, or similar brutal and violent instrumentalities of adjustment,
+supply in their way the demand that love and reason failed to meet.
+
+Accordingly, in our American Man must be found, first, social largeness
+and susceptibility,--whatsoever, in the breadth of a flexile and
+sympathetic nature, may contribute to the keeping of the Golden Rule.
+But the broadest good-feeling will not alone suffice. The great pledge
+of peace, fellowship, and profitable co-working among such a population
+as we anticipate must be sought in the deeper unity of moral principle.
+For Right is one, and is every man's interest. Right is better than
+Charity; for Right meets, or even anticipates, normal wants, while
+Charity only mends failures. Nothing, therefore, that we could discover
+in the New Man would be such a security for his future, nothing so fit
+him for his place, as a tendency to simple and universal principles of
+action. In the absence of this, he will infallibly be compelled one day
+to enter Providence's court of chancery, and come forth bankrupt. But
+let him be, even by promise, a seer of those primary truths in which
+the interests of all are comprehended and made identical, and the
+virtue of his vision will become the assurance of his welfare.
+Doubtless, sad men will say that our own eyes are clouded with some
+glittering dust of optimism, when we declare that this Man for the
+Continent is the very one whose advent we celebrate. This might,
+indeed, seem a fatuitously dulcet song to sing just now, when a din of
+defection and recreancy is loud through all the land,--now, when we
+have immediately in view, and on the largest scale, an open patronage
+of infamous wrong-doing, so brazen-fronted and blush-proof that only
+the spectacle itself makes its credibility;--the prior possibility of
+it we should one and all hasten, for the honor of human nature, to
+deny. Yet in the midst of all this are visible the victorious
+influences that mould the imported Teuton to the spiritual form which
+his appointed tasks imply. These we now hasten to indicate.
+
+And first, every breath of American air helps to make him the American
+Man. The atmosphere of America was early noted as a wonder-worker. Ten
+years subsequent to the landing at Plymouth, the Rev. Francis
+Higginson, an acute observer, wrote to the mother country,--"A sup of
+New England air is better than a whole flagon of old English ale." Jean
+Paul says that the roots of humankind are the lungs, and that, being
+rooted in air,--we are properly children of the aether. Truly, children
+of the aether,--and so, children of fire. For the oxygen, upon which
+the lungs chiefly feed, is _the_ fiery principle in Nature,--all that
+we denominate fire and flame being but the manifestation of its action.
+We are severe upon fire-eaters, Southern and other; yet here are we,
+cool Northerns, quaffing this very principle and essence of fire in
+large lung-draughts every moment, each of us carrying a perpetual
+furnace in his bosom. Now it is doubtless true that we inhale more
+oxygen, or at least inhale it less drenched with damp, than the people
+of Europe, and are, therefore, more emphatically children of fire than
+they. Be this, or be some other, the true theory of the fact, the fact
+itself unquestionably is, that our climate produces the highest nervous
+intensity. As there are conditions of atmosphere in which the magnetic
+telegraph works well, and others in which it works ill, so some
+conditions stimulate, while others repress nervous action. The air of
+England seems favorable to richness and abundance of blood; there the
+life-vessels sit deep, and bring opulent cargoes to the flesh-shores;
+and the rotund figure, the ruddy solid cheek, and the leisurely
+complacent movement, all show how well supported and stored with vital
+resources the Englishman is. But to the American's lip the great
+foster-mother has proffered a more pungent and rousing draught,--not an
+old Saxon sleeping-cup for the night, but a waking-cup for the bright
+morning and busy day. It is forenoon with him. He is up and dressed,
+and at work by the job. Bring an Englishman here, and nothing short of
+Egyptian modes of preservation will keep him an Englishman long. Soon
+he cannot digest so much food, cannot dispose of so much stimulant; his
+step becomes quicker, his eye keener, his voice rises a note on the
+scale, and grows a trifle sharper. In fine, the effects observed in our
+autumn foliage may be traced in the people themselves, a heightening of
+colors; and while this accounts for much that is prurient and bizarre,
+it infolds also the best promise of America.
+
+The effect of this upon American physiology and physiognomy is already
+quite visible. Of course we must guard against hasty generalizations,
+since the interfusing of various elements in our Western States is
+producing new types of manhood. But the respective _physiques_ of Old
+and New England can easily be compared, and the difference strikes
+every eye. The American is lean, he has a paler complexion, a sharper
+face, a slighter build than his ancestors brought from the Old World.
+Mr. Emerson is reported as saying (though the precise words escape us)
+that the Englishman speaks from his chest, the American more from the
+mouth or throat,--that is, the one associates his voice more with the
+stomach and viscera, the other with the head; and, indeed, the pectoral
+quality of the prevailing tones catches the ear immediately upon
+setting foot on British soil. Every man instinctively apprehends where
+he is strongest, and will tend to associate voice and movement with the
+centre of his strengths. The American, since in him the nervous force
+predominates, instinctively lifts his voice into connection with the
+great household of that force, which is the brain; for an equally good
+reason the Englishman speaks from the visceral and sanguineous centres.
+The American (we are still dwelling chiefly on the New England type) is
+also apt to throw the head forward in walking,--thereby indicating,
+first, his chief reliance upon the forces which that part harbors, and,
+secondly, his impulse to progress; so that our national motto, "Go
+ahead," may have a twofold significance, as if it were in some sort the
+antipodes of going a-foot, and suggested not only the direction of
+movement, but also the active agent therein!
+
+Mr. Robert Knox, of England, somewhat known as an ethnological lecturer
+and author,--a thinker in a sort, though of the "slam-bang" school, of
+far more force than faculty, and of a singular avidity for ugly
+news,--dogmatically proclaims that all Americans are undergoing a
+physical degeneration, involving, as he thinks, an equal lapse of
+mental power, proceeding with swift fated steps, and sure ere long to
+land them in sheer impotence and imbecility; and he appeals to the
+common loss of adipose tissue and avoirdupois as proof. This author
+belongs to a class of well-meaning gentlemen, so unfortunately
+constituted that the distractions of their time induce in them an
+acetous fermentation (as milk sometimes sours during thunder); and from
+acid becoming acrid, they at length fall fairly in love with the
+Erinnyes, and henceforth dote upon destruction and ugliness as happier
+lovers do upon cosmical health and beauty. Concluding that the universe
+is a shabby affair, they like to make it out shabbier still,--and so,
+seldom brighten up till they have an ill thing to say. They are not
+persons toward whom it is easy to feel amiable. Dogmatism is ever
+unlovely, though it be in behalf of the sweetest hopes; but chronic
+doubt and disbelief erected into a dogmatism are intolerable. Yet Mr.
+Knox's misinterpretations of the facts are taking root in many minds
+that do not share his fierce hypochondria and hunger for bitter herbs.
+That the American has lost somewhat in animal resources is
+incontestable; but Mr. Knox's ever-implied premise, "The animal is the
+man," from which his Jeremiad derives its plaint, is but a provincial
+paper-currency, of very local estimation, and can never, like gold and
+silver, pass by weight in the world's marts of thought. The physical
+constitution of the New Man is comparatively delicate and fragile; but
+as a china vase is not necessarily less sound than a stone jug or iron
+kettle, so delicacy and fragility in man are no proof of disease. The
+ominous prognosis of this doctor, therefore, seems no occasion for
+despair, perhaps not even for alarm. But to perceive what different
+harping can be performed on this string, hear Carus:--"Leanness, as
+such," says the master, "is the symbol of a certain lightness,
+activity, rapidity, and mental power." Thus the adipose impoverishment,
+which to the yellow-eyed Englishman seems utter bankruptcy, is at once
+recognized by a superior man as denoting an augmentation, rather than
+diminution, of proper human wealth.
+
+But while the typical American organization is of this admitted
+delicacy and lightness, it is still capable, under high and powerful
+impulse of extraordinary feats of endurance. This has of late been
+admirably illustrated. Not long since, there returned to our shores a
+hero who--as Dante was believed by the people of Italy to have entered
+the Inferno of Fire--had actually descended into the opposite Inferno
+of Frost, and done unprecedented battle with the demons of that realm.
+Dr. Kane was slight, delicately framed, lean, with sharp, clear-cut
+features, of quivering mobility and fineness of texture, having the
+aspect rather of an artist than an explorer,--not at all the personage
+to whom most judges would assign great power of endurance. And as one
+follows him through those thrice Herculean toils,--sees him not only
+bearing cheerfully the great burden of his own cares and ills, but
+lifting up, as it were, from his companions, and assuming upon his own
+shoulders, the awful oppression of the polar night, as Atlas of old was
+fabled to support the heavens,--not even one's admiration at such force
+of soul can wholly exclude wonder at such fortitude of body. Whence, we
+ask, this power of endurance? We can trace it to no ordinary physical
+resource. It _comes_ from no ordinary physical resource. It is pure
+brain-power. It streams down upon the body, in rivers of invigoration,
+from the cerebral hemispheres. A conversational philosopher,
+discoursing to a circle of intelligent New England mechanics,
+said,--"It is commonly supposed that the earth supports man. Not so;
+man upholds the earth!" "How!" exclaimed a wide-eyed auditor; "upholds
+the earth? How do you make that out?" "How?" answered the philosopher,
+with superb innocence,--"don't you see that it sticks to his heels?"
+When the question is asked, How the slight frame of this Arctic hero
+could support such tests, the answer must be analogous,--It clung to
+his brain. The usual order of support is reversed; and here is that
+truer Mercury, in whom the winged head, possessing as function what its
+prototype only exhibited as ornament and symbol, really soars in its
+own might, bearing the pendent feet.
+
+Dr. Kane was one of the purest examples of the American organization;
+and as he issued victorious from that region where "the ground burns
+frore, and cold performs the effect of fire," the Man of the New World
+was represented, and in him came forth with proven strength. The same
+significance would not attach to all feats of endurance, even where
+equally representative. Here are Hercules and Orpheus in one,--the
+organization of a poet, and the physical stamina of a gladiator.
+
+Now this peculiar organization offers the physical inducement for two
+great tendencies,--one relating to the perception of truth, the other
+to the feeling of social claims,--while these tendencies are supported
+on the spiritual side by the great disciplines of our position; and the
+genius which these foreshow is precisely that which ought to be the
+genius of the New Man.
+
+This organization is that of the seer, the poet, the spiritualist, of
+all such as have an eye for the deeper essences and first principles of
+things. Concede intellectual power, or the spiritual element, then add
+this temperament, and there follows a certain subtile, penetrative,
+radical quality of thought, a characteristic percipience of principles.
+And principles are not only seen, but felt; they thrill the nerve as
+well as greet the eye; and the man consequently becomes highly amenable
+to his own belief. The primary question respecting men is this,--How
+far are they affected by the original axiomatic truths? Truths are like
+the winds. Near the earth's surface winds blow in variable directions,
+and the weathercock becomes the type of fickleness. So there is a class
+of little truths, dependent upon ever-variable relations, with which it
+is the function of cunning, shrewdness, tact, to deal, and numbers of
+men seldom or never lift their heads above this weathercock region. Yet
+the upper air, alike of the spiritual and the physical atmosphere, has
+its perpetual currents, unvarying as the revolution of the globe or the
+sailing of constellations; and these fail not to represent themselves
+by eternal tradewinds upon the surface of our planet and of our life.
+Now the grand inquiry about any man is,--Does he belong to the great
+current, or to the lesser ones? He appertains to the great in
+proportion to his access to principles. Or we may illustrate by another
+analogy a distinction, of importance so emphatic. The Arctic voyagers
+find two descriptions of ice. The field-ice spreads over vast spaces,
+and moves with immense power; but goes with the wind and the
+surface-flow. The bergs, on the contrary, sit deep, are bedded in the
+mighty under-currents; and when the field-ice was crashing down with
+tide and storm, Dr. Kane found these heroes holding their steady
+inevitable way in the teeth of both. Thus may one discover men who are
+very massive, very powerful, engrossing such enormous spaces that there
+hardly seems room in the world for anybody else; but they are Field-ice
+Men; they represent with gigantic force the impulse of the hour. But
+there is another class, making, perhaps, little show upon the surface,
+or making it by altitude alone, who represent the grand circulations of
+law, the orbital courses of truth. It is a question of depth, of
+penetration. And depth, be it observed, secures unity; diversity,
+contrariety, contention are of the surface. Numbers need not concern
+us, whether one hundred, or one hundred millions, provided all are
+imbedded in the central, commanding truths of the human consciousness.
+And if the Man of the New World be characteristically one who will
+attach himself to the eternal master-tides, that fact alone fits him
+for his place.
+
+Of course no sane man would intimate that organization alone can bring
+about such results. The Arabian horse will hardly manufacture a Saladin
+for his back. But let the Saladin be given, and this marvel of nerve
+and muscle will multiply his presence,--will, as it were, give two
+selves. So, if the Teutonic man who comes to our shores were innately
+empty or mean, this nervous intensity would only ripen his meanness, or
+make his inanity obstreperous. But in so far as he has real depth of
+nature, this radical organization will aid him, quickening by its heat
+what is deepest within him; and when he turns his face toward
+principles, this flying brain-steed will swiftly bring him to his goal.
+Nay, it is best that even meanness should ripen. The slaveholder of
+South Carolina must avouch a false principle to cover his false
+practice,--must affirm that slavery is a Divine institution. It is
+well. A Quaker, hearing a fellow blaspheme, said,--"That is right,
+friend; get such bad stuff out of thee!" A lie is dangerous, till it is
+told,--like scarlatina, before it is brought to the surface: when
+either breaks out, it is more than half conquered. The only falsehoods
+of appalling efficacy for evil are those which circulate subtly in the
+vital unconsciousness of powerful but obscure or undemonstrative
+natures,--deadly from the intimacy which also makes them secret and
+secure, and silently perverting to their own purposes the normal vigors
+of the system. A Mephistopheles is not dangerous; he is too
+clear-headed; he knows his own deserts: some muddiness is required to
+harbor self-deceptions, in order that badness may reach real working
+power. To all perversion iron limits are, indeed, set; but obscure
+falsehood works in the largest spaces and with the longest
+tether.--Thus the expressive intensity which appertains to this
+organization is serviceable every way, even in what might, at first
+blush, seem wholly evil effects.
+
+While thus the brain-hand of the American is formed for grasping
+principles, for apprehending the simple, subtile, universal truths
+which slip through coarser and more sluggish fingers, there is also an
+influence on the moral and intellectual faculties, coming in to accept
+and use these cerebral ones. We are more in conversation with the heart
+and pure spiritual fact of humanity than any other people of equal
+power and culture. We necessarily deal more with each other on a bond
+and basis of common persuasion, of open unenacted truth, than others.
+This matter is of moment enough to justify somewhat formal elucidation.
+
+Nations, like individual men, birds, and many quadrupeds and fishes,
+are house-builders. They wall and roof themselves in with symbols,
+creeds, codes, customs, etiquettes, and the like; they stigmatize by
+the terms heresy, high-treason, and names of milder import, any attempt
+to quit this edifice; and send such offenders into purgatory,
+penitentiary, coventry, as the case may be. Some nations omit to insert
+either door or window; they make penal even the desire to look out of
+doors, even the assertion that a sky exists other than the roof of
+their building, or that there is any other than a very unblessed
+out-of-doors beyond its walls. Such are countries where free speech is
+forbidden, where free thought is racked and thumb-screwed, and where
+not only a man's overt actions, but his very hopes, his faith, his
+prayers, are prescribed. Here man is put into his own institutions, as
+into a box; and a very bad box it proves. Now these blank walls not
+only encompass society as a mass, but also run between individuals,
+cutting off bosom from bosom, and rendering impossible that streaming
+of heart-fires, that mounting flame from meeting brands, out of whose
+wondrous baptism come the consecrate deeds of mankind. Go to China, and
+to any living soul you obtain no access, or next to none,--such
+disastrous roods of etiquette are interposed between. It is as if one
+very cordially shook hands with you by means of a pair of tongs or a
+ten-foot pole. Indeed, it is hardly a man that you meet; it is a piece
+of automatic ceremony. Nor is it in China alone that men may be found
+who can hardly be accredited with proper personality. As one dying may
+distribute his property in legacies to various institutions and
+organizations,--so much, for example, to the Tract Society, so much to
+the Colonization Society, and the like,--in the same manner do many
+make wills at the outset of life for the disposal of their own personal
+powers, and do nothing afterward but execute this testament,--executing
+themselves in another sense at the same time. They parcel out
+themselves, their judgment, their conscience, and whatsoever pertains
+to their spiritual being, among the customs, traditions, institutions,
+etiquettes of their time, and renounce all claim to a free existence.
+After such a piece of spiritual _felo-de-se_, the man is nothing but
+one wheel in a machine, or even but one cog upon a wheel. Thenceforth
+he merely hangs together;--simple cohesion is the utmost approximation
+to action which can be truly attributed to him.
+
+And as nothing is so ridiculous, so, few things are so mischievous, as
+the sincere insincerity, the estrangement from fact, of those who have
+thus parted with themselves. It is worse, if anything can be worse,
+than hypocrisy itself. The hypocrite sees two things,--the fact and the
+fiction, the gold and its counterfeit; he has virtue enough to know
+that he is a hypocrite. But the _post-mortem_ man, the walking legacy,
+does not recognize the existence of eternal Fact; it has never occurred
+to his mind that anything could be more serious than "spiritual
+taking-on" and make-belief. An innocent old gentleman, being at a play
+where the heroine is represented as destroyed in attempting to
+cross a broken bridge, rose, upon seeing her approach it, and in tones
+of the deepest concern offered his opinion that said bridge was unsafe!
+The _post-mortem_ man reverses this harmless blunder, and makes it
+anything but harmless by the change; as that one took theatricals to be
+earnest fact, so this conceives virtue itself to consist in posturing;
+he thinks gold a clever imitation of brass, and the azure of the sky to
+be a kind of celestial cosmetic; in fine, formalities are the realest
+things he knows. It is said, that, in the later days of Rome, the
+augurs and inspectors of entrails could not look each other in the face
+during their ceremonies, for fear of bursting into a laugh. But still
+worse off than these pitiful peddlers of fraud is he who feigns without
+knowing that he feigns,--feigns unfeignedly, and calls God to witness
+that he is faithful in the performance of his part. This is ape's
+earnest, and is, perhaps, the largest piece of waste that ever takes
+place upon this earth. _Ape's earnest_,--it is a pit that swallows
+whole nations, whole ages; and the extent to which it may be carried is
+wellnigh incredible, even with the fact before our eyes. A Chinese
+gentleman spends an hour in imploring a relative to dine with
+him,--utterly refusing, so urgent is his desire of company, to accept
+No for an answer,--and then flies into a rage because the cousin
+commits the _faux pas_ of yielding to his importunity, and agreeing to
+dine. Louis Napoleon perpetrates the king-joke of the century by
+solemnly presenting the Russian Czar with a copy of Thomas a Kempis's
+"Imitation of Christ,"--a book whose great inculcation is to renounce
+the world!
+
+Now no sooner do men lose hold upon fact than they inevitably begin to
+wither. They resemble a tree drawn with all its roots from the earth;
+the juices already imbibed may sustain it awhile, but with every
+passing day will sustain it less. If Louis Napoleon is so removed from
+conversation with reality as not to perceive the colossal satire
+implied in his gift, it will soon require more vigor than he possesses
+to keep astride the Gallic steed. That Chinese etiquette explains the
+condition of the Chinese nation. Indeed, it is easy to give a recipe
+for mummying men alive. Take one into keeping, prescribe everything,
+thoughts, actions, manners, so that he never shall find either
+permission or opportunity to ask his own intellect, What is true? nor
+his own heart, What is right? nor to consider within himself what is
+intrinsically good and worthy of a man; and if he does not rebel, you
+will make him as good a mummy as Egyptian catacombs can boast.
+
+The capital art of life is to renew and augment your power by its
+expenditure. It was intimated some eighteen centuries since that the
+highest are obtained only by loss of the same; and the transmutation of
+loss into gain is the essence and perfection of all spiritual
+economies. Now of this art of arts he is already master who steadily
+draws upon his own spiritual resources. The soul is an extraordinary
+well; the way to replenish is to draw from it. It is more miraculous
+than the widow's cruse;--that simply continued unexhausted,--never
+less, indeed, but also never more; while from this the more you take,
+the more remains in it. Were it, therefore, desired to arrange with
+forethought a scheme of life that should afford the highest
+invigoration, in such scheme there should be the minimum of
+prescription, and nothing be so sedulously avoided as the superseding
+of inward and active _principles_ by outward and passive _rules_;--that
+is, life would be made as much moral and spontaneous, as little
+political and mechanical, as possible.
+
+And this does not ill describe our own case. No civilized nation is so
+little imprisoned in precedents and traditions. Our national maxim is,
+"The world is too much governed." In the degree of this release we are,
+of course, thrown back upon underlying principles and universal
+persuasions,--since these of necessity become, in the absence of more
+artificial ties, the chief bond of such peace and cooeperation as
+obtain. Leave two men to deal with each other, not merely as subjects
+or citizens, but as men, and they must recur to that which is at once
+native and common to both, to the universal elements in their
+consciousness, that is, to principles; and thus the most ordinary
+mutual dealing becomes, in some degree, a spiritual discipline. Harness
+these men in precedents, and whip them through the same action with
+penalties, and they will gain only such discipline as the ox obtains in
+the furrow and the horse between the thills. Statutes serve men, but
+lame them. They render morality mechanical. Men learn to say not, "It
+is right," but, "It is enacted." And the difference is immense. "Right"
+sends one to his own soul, and requires him to produce the living law
+out of that; "Enacted" sends him to the Revised Statutes, or the
+Reports, and there it ends. The latter gives a bit of information; the
+former a step in development. Laws are necessary; but laws which are
+not necessary are more and worse than unnecessary;--they pilfer power
+from the soul; they intercept the absolute uses of life; they
+incarcerate men, and make Caspar Hausers of them. Now in America not
+only is there already much emancipation from those outside regulations
+which supersede moral and private judgment, but the tendency toward a
+fresh life daily gains impetus. That repeal of the Missouri Compromise,
+however blamable, has several happy features, and prominent among these
+must be reckoned the illustration it affords of a growing disposition
+to say, "No putting To-day into Yesterday's coffin; let the Present
+_live_ and be its own lord."
+
+We need be at no loss to discover the effects of the combined
+influences here stated. The ordinary phrases of our country-people
+denote an alert judgment,--as, "I reckon," "I calculate," "I guess."
+The inventiveness which characterizes Americans, the multiplicity of
+patents, comes from the tendency to go behind the actual, to test
+possibilities, to bring everything to the standard of thought. Emerson
+dissolves England in the alembic of his brain, and makes a thought of
+that. Our politics are yearly becoming more and more questions of
+principle, questions of right and wrong. There is almost infinite
+promise and significance in this gradual victory of the moral over the
+political, of life over mechanism. Mr. Benton complains of the
+"speculative philanthropy" of New England, because it suggests
+questions upon which he could not meet his constituents, and interferes
+with his domestic arrangements. It is much as if one should pray God to
+abolish the sun because his own eyes are sore!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We now pass to the second great tendency which, as is here affirmed,
+organization and moral discipline are unitedly tending to establish on
+this shore. An inevitable consequence of the nervous intensity and
+susceptibility characteristic of Americans is an access of personal
+magnetism, or influence; we keenly feel each other, have social
+impressibility. The nervous is the public element in the body, the
+mediating and communicating power. It is the agent of every sense,--of
+sight, hearing, taste, touch, smell,--and of the power of speech. It is
+the vehicle of all fellow-feeling, of all social sympathy. It
+introduces man to man, and makes strangers acquainted. And a most
+unceremonious master of these ceremonies it is;--running
+indiscriminately across ranks; introducing beggar and baron; forcing
+the haughtiest master, spite of his theories, to feel that the slave
+_is_ a man and a fellow; compelling the prince to acknowledge the
+peasant,--not with a shake of the hand, perhaps, but, it may be, with
+knee-shakings and heart-shakings. A terrible leveller and democrat is
+this master element in the human frame; yet king and kaiser must
+entertain him in courts and on thrones. Now the high development of
+this in the American Man renders him communicative, gives him a quick
+interest in men; he cannot let them pass without giving and taking.
+Hence the much-blamed inquisitiveness,--"What is your name? Where do
+you live? Where are you going? What is your business? Do you eat baked
+beans on Sunday?" Mrs. Trollope is horrified; it is a bore; but one
+likes the man the better for it. He is interested in you;--that is the
+simple secret of all. King Carlyle calls us "eighteen millions of
+bores." To be sure; is that so bad? The primitive English element was
+pirate; let the primitive American _be_ bore. The fathers of the
+Britain that is took men by the throat; let the fathers of the America
+that is to be take them by the--button;--that is amelioration enough
+for one thousand years! In truth, this intense personal interest which
+characterizes the American, though often awkwardly manifested and
+troublesome, is an admirable feature in his constitution, and few
+traits should awaken our pride or expectation more. It is this keen
+fellow-feeling that fits him for the broadest and most beneficent
+public interest. This makes him a philanthropist. And his philanthropy
+is peculiar. It is not merely of the neighborhood sort, such as sends a
+Thanksgiving turkey to poor Robert and a hat that does not fit well to
+poor Peter. For here the predilection for principles and
+generalizations comes in, and leads him to translate his fellow-feeling
+into social axioms. Thus it occurs that the American is that man who is
+grappling most earnestly and intelligently with the problem of man's
+relation to man. In every village is some knot of active minds that
+brood over questions of this kind. The monarch newspaper of America is
+deeply tinged with the same hue; nor could one with a contrary
+complexion attain its position. This great current of human interest
+floats our politics; it feeds the springs of enthusiasm, coming forth
+in doctrines of non-resistance, of government by love, and the like;
+and our literature contains essays upon love and friendship which, in
+our judgment, are not equalled in the literature of the world.
+
+Nor is a moral discipline wanting to second this tendency. A terrible
+social anomaly has been forced upon us,--has had time to intertwine
+itself with trade, with creeds, with partisan prejudice and patriotic
+pride, and, having become next to unconquerable, now shows that it can
+keep no terms and must kill or be killed. And through this the question
+of man's duties to man, on the broadest scale, is incessantly kept in
+agitation. It is like a lurid handwriting across the sky,--"Learn what
+man should be and do to his fellow." And the companion sentence is
+this,--"Thy justice to the strangers shall be the best security to
+thine own household."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the co-working of these two grand tendencies we obtain at once the
+largest speculative breadth and the closest practical and personal
+interest. What sweeter promise could any one ask than that of this rare
+and admirable combination? Thought and action have been more than
+sufficiently separated. The philosopher has discoursed to a few, and in
+the dialect of the few, in Academic shades; sanctity has hidden itself
+away, lost in the joy of its secret contemplations; the great world has
+rolled by, unhearing, unheeding,--like London roaring with cataract
+thunder around St. Paul's, while within the choral service is performed
+to an audience of one. Thinking and doing have hardly recognized each
+other. Now we are not of those vague, enthusiastic persons who fancy
+that all truths are for all ears,--that the highest spiritual fact can
+be communicated, where there is no spiritual apprehension to lay hold
+upon it. _He that hath ears_, let him hear. Nor would we attempt to
+confuse the functions of sayer and doer. But let there be a sympathy
+and understanding between them, that, when achieved, will mark an epoch
+in the world's history. Nowhere, at least in modern times, have thought
+and action approached so nearly and intimately as in America; nowhere
+is speculative intellect so colored with the hues of practical interest
+without limiting its own flight; nowhere are labor and executive power
+so receptive of pure intellectual suggestion. The union of what is
+deepest and most recondite in thought with clear-sighted sagacity has
+been well hit by Lowell in his description of the typical American
+scholar,--
+
+  "Sits in a mystery calm and intense,
+  And looks round about him with sharp common-sense."
+
+That is, the New Man has two things that seldom make each other's
+acquaintance,--Sight and Insight. Accordingly, our subtilest thinker,
+whom the scholarly Mr. Vaughan classes with the mystics and accuses of
+going beyond the legitimate range even of mystics, has written such an
+estimate of the most practical nation in the world as has never been
+written of that or any other before. The American knows what is about
+him, has tact, sagacity, conversance with surfaces and circumstances,
+is the shrewdest guesser in the world; and seeing him on this side
+alone, one might say,--This is the man of to-day, a quick worker, good
+to sail ships, bore mountains, buy and sell, but belonging to the
+surface, knowing only that. The medal turns, and lo! here is this 'cute
+Yankee a thinker, a mystic, fellow of the antique, Oriental in his
+subtilest contemplations, a rider of the sunbeam, dwelling upon Truth's
+sweetness with such pure devotion and delight that vigorous Mr.
+Kingsley must shriek, "Windrush!" "Intellectual Epicurism!" and disturb
+himself in a somewhat diverting manner. Pollok declaimed against the
+attempt to lay hold of the earth with one hand and heaven with the
+other. But that is the peculiar feat for which the American is
+born,--to bring together seeing and doing, principle and practice,
+eternity and to-day. The American is given, they say, to extremes.
+True, but to _both_ extremes; he belongs to the two antipodes. To the
+one he appertains by intellectual emancipation and penetrative power;
+to the other by his pungent element of sympathy with persons. Speaking
+of the older Northern States, and of the people as a whole, we affirm
+that their inhabitants are more speculative _and_ more practical, the
+scholars know more of immediate common interests and speak more the
+dialect of the people, while the mechanics know more of speculative
+truth and understand better the necessary vocabulary of thought, than
+any other people.
+
+Lyell says, that the New World is really the Old World,--that there,
+preeminently, the antique geological formations are found, and nearer
+the surface than elsewhere. Thus the physical peculiarity of our
+continent is, that here an elaborate and highly finished surface is
+immediately superimposed upon the oldest rock, rock wrought in fire and
+kneaded with earthquake knuckles. We discover in this a symbol of the
+American Man. He likewise brings into near association the most ancient
+and the most modern. By insight he dwells in the old thoughts, the
+eternal truths, the meditations that rapt away the early seers into
+trance and dream; but he brings these into sharp contact with life,
+associates them with the newest work, the toil and interests of this
+year and day.
+
+We shall find space to mention but one peril which besets the New Man.
+It is danger of physical exhaustion. Dr. Kane, the hero of two Arctic
+nights, came forth to the day only to die. That which makes the
+preeminence of our organization makes also its peril. Denmark is said
+to be impoverished by the disproportion of the learned to the
+industrial class; production is insufficient, and too much of a good
+thing cripples the country. The nervous system is a learned class in
+the body; it contributes dignity and superior uses, but makes no corn
+grow in the physiological fields. A brain of great animation and power
+is a perilous freight for the stanchest body; in a weak and shattered
+body it is like gold in a spent swimmer's pocket,--the richer it would
+make him on dry land, the less chance it gives him of arriving there.
+That this danger is not imaginary too many are able to testify.--Few
+scenes in Rabelais are more exquisitely ludicrous than that in which he
+pictures the monk Panurge in a storm at sea. The oily ecclesiastic is
+terrified as only a combination of hypocrite and coward can be; and, in
+the extremity of his craven distress, he fancies that any situation on
+shore, no matter how despicable, would be paradise. So at length he
+whines, "Oh that I were on dry land, and somebody kicking me!" In a
+similar manner--similar, save that farce deepens to tragedy--many a man
+in America of opulent mental outfit, but with only a poor wreck of a
+body to bear the precious cargo, must often have been tempted to cry,
+"Oh that I had a sound digestion, and were some part of a dunce!" In
+truth, we are a nation of health-hunters, betraying the want by the
+search. It were to be wished that an accurate computation could be made
+how much money has been paid in the United States, within a score of
+years, for patent medicines. It would buy up a kingdom of respectable
+dimensions. So eager is this health-hunger, that it bites at bare
+hooks. The "advertising man" of Arnold's Globules offers his services
+as nostrum-puffer-general, and appeals to past success as proof of his
+abilities in this line. But Arnold's Globules will sell no whit the
+worse. Is the amiable Mr. Knox right, after all? Doubtless, we answer,
+the American organization is more easily disordered than the
+English,--just as a railway-train running at forty miles an hour is
+more liable to accident than one proceeding at twenty. Besides,
+Americans have not learned to live as these new circumstances require.
+The New Man is a clipper-ship, that can run out of sight of land while
+one of the old bluff-bowed, round-ribbed craft is creeping out of port;
+but, from the very nature of his superiorities, he is apt to be
+shorter-lived, and more likely to spring a leak in the strain of a
+storm. He demands nicer navigation. It will not do for him to beat over
+sand-bars. Yet dinner-pilotage in this country is reckless and
+unscientific to a degree. The land is full of wrecks hopelessly snagged
+upon indigestible diet. As yet, it is difficult to obtain a hearing for
+precaution. Men answer you out of their past experience,--much like a
+headstrong personage who was about to attempt crossing a river in a
+boat sure to sink. "You will drown, if you go in that thing," said a
+bystander. "Never was drowned yet," was the prompt retort; and pushing
+off, he soon lost the opportunity to repeat that boast! But this
+resistance is constantly becoming less. Meantime, numbers of foreseeing
+men are waking up, or are already awakened, to the importance of
+recreation and physical culture,--members of the clerical profession,
+to the credit of the craft be it said, taking the lead. Messrs.
+Beecher, Bellows, and Hale plead the cause of amusements; the author of
+"Saints and their Bodies" celebrates the uses and urges the need of
+athletic sports; gymnasia are becoming matters of course in the cities
+and larger towns; "The New York Tribune" attends to the matter of
+cookery; and it is safe to predict that the habits of the people will
+undergo in time the necessary changes. That health is possible to
+Americans ought not to be questioned. Of despair we will not listen to
+a word. In crossing the ocean, in the backwoods-experience which
+everywhere precedes cultivation, in the excitement which has followed
+the obliteration of social monopolies and the throwing open of the
+wealth of a continent to free competition, the old traditional
+precautions have been lost, the old household wisdoms, the old
+economies of health; and these we have now to reproduce for ourselves.
+It will be done. And when this is done, though ancient English brawn
+will not reappear, there will be health, and its great blessing of
+cheerful spirits. The special means by which this shall be accomplished
+we leave to the care of the gentlemen abovenamed, and their
+compeers--merely putting in one word for _gentle_ exercise, and two
+words for the cherishing of mental health, the expulsion of morbid
+excitements, assume what guise they may. We should take extreme care
+not to admit decay at the summit. A healthy soul is a better
+prophylactic than belladonna. Refusing to despond respecting American
+health, we cheerfully trust that the genius of the New Man will find
+all required physical support, and due length of time for demonstrating
+its quality.
+
+And now we may notice a doubt which some readers will cherish. Is not
+all this, they may say, over-sanguine and enthusiastic? Is it not a
+self-complacent dream? Are the tendencies adverted to so productive? Is
+any such genius really forming as is here claimed? Is it not, on the
+contrary, now fully understood that the Americans are a commonplace
+people, meagre-minded money-makers, destitute of originality? What have
+they done to demonstrate genius yet?--These skepticisms are somewhat
+prevalent nowadays, and are a natural enough reaction from
+Fourth-of-July flatulencies. Let them have their day. The fact will
+vindicate itself. Meanwhile we may remark, that the appeal to attained
+performance, in justification of the view taken in this paper of
+American abilities and prospects, would obviously place us at undue
+disadvantage. We speak here, and are plainly entitled to speak, rather
+of tendencies than of attainments, of powers forming themselves in man,
+and not of results produced without him. Nevertheless, results there
+are,--admirable, satisfactory results.
+
+As first of these may be mentioned American Reform. In depth, in
+breadth, in vigor, in practical quality, this may challenge comparison
+with anything of a similar kind elsewhere. This is the direct outburst
+of a new life, arising and wrestling with the old forms, habitudes,
+institutions, with whatsoever is imported and traditional, on the one
+hand, and with the crude or barbarous improvisations of native energy,
+on the other. It is a force springing out of the summit of the brain,
+the angel of its noblest sentiment, going forth with no less an aim
+than to construct a whole new social status from ideas. And the token
+of its superiority is this, that it builds its new outward life only
+from the most ancient incorruptible material, out of the eternal
+granite of Moral Law. Sweeping social _schemes_ prevail in France. But
+American Reform is not a scheme; it is the service of an _idea_. It is
+made conservative by that which also makes it radical, by working in
+the interest of the moral sentiment.
+
+The Literature of the New World is also worthy of the New Man. We are
+quite aware that a large portion of this literature is trash. So was a
+large part in Shakspeare's, in Cervantes's, in Plato's age and place.
+But we admit even that the comparison does not hold,--that an especial
+accusation may be brought against the issues of the press in this
+country. Wise men should have anticipated this, and, instead of
+reasoning from the size of our lakes, prairies, and mountains, and
+demanding epics and philosophies of us before we are fairly out of our
+primitive woods, the critics should have hastened to say,--A colony
+must have time to strike root, and to draw up therefrom a new life,
+before it can arrive at valuable and genuine literary expression. The
+Life must come before the Thought. Nothing could be more absurd than
+the expectation that American literature should spring away into the
+air from the top of European performance. Our first literature was
+colonial,--that is, imitative, written for the approbation of European
+critics,--of course, having somewhat the empty correctness of good
+school-boy composition. Next followed what we may call fire-weed
+literature,--the first rank, raw product of new lands. Under these two
+heads a vast number of books must of course be reckoned. But beyond
+these American literature has already passed, and now can point to
+books that spring out of the pure genius of the New Man. And having
+only these in mind, we hesitate not to say that there is now sounding
+upon these shores a deeper, subtler, and more universal note than is
+heard in any other land touched by the Atlantic Sea. We have now
+writings in several departments of literature, and in both prose and
+verse, which are characterized by a breadth and largeness of
+suggestion, by a spirituality and a prophetic adherence to the moral
+sentiment, which justify all that has here been affirmed or reasoned.
+And our deepest thought finds a popular reception which proves it not
+foreign or exceptional. Wilkinson's "Human Body," the largest piece of
+speculative construction which England has produced in two centuries,
+has not yet, after some eight years, we believe, exhausted its first
+edition. Emerson's Poems, still less adapted, one would say, than the
+work just mentioned, to the taste of populaces, had reached its fourth
+edition in about the same period. Learned works have, of course, a
+superior reception in the mother-country; works of pure thought in the
+daughter. Said to us, during the past season, the subtilest thinker of
+Great Britain,--"I must send to America whatever I wish to put in
+print, unless I pay for its publication from my own pocket."
+
+And beyond this, there is a hush in the nation's heart, an expectancy,
+a waiting and longing for some unspoken word, which sometimes seems
+awful in the bounty of its promise. I know men educated to speak, with
+the burden of a speaker's vocation on their hearts, but now these many
+years remaining heroically silent; the fountains of a fresh
+consciousness sweet within them, but not yet flowing into speech, and
+they too earnest, too expectant, too sure of the future to say aught
+beneath the strain. "Why do you not speak?" was inquired of one.
+"Because I can keep silent," he said, "and the word I am to utter will
+command me." No man assumes that attitude until he is already a party
+to the deepest truth, is the silent side of a seer; and in a nation
+where any numbers are passing this more than Pythagorean lustrum, a
+speech is surely coming that will no more need to apologize for itself
+than the speech of the forest or the ocean-shore. The region of the
+trade-winds is skirted with calm. Sydney Smith said of Macaulay, that
+his talk, to render it charming, "needed only a few brilliant flashes
+of silence." We are talkative, but the flashes of silence are not
+wanting, and there is prophecy in them as well as charm. Said one, of a
+speaker,--"He was so rarely eloquent, that what he did not say was even
+better than what he did." And here, not only are some wholly silent,
+but in our best writings the impressive not-saying lends its higher
+suggestion than that expressly put forth. What spaces between Emerson's
+sentences! Each seems to float like a solitary summer-cloud in a whole
+sky of silence.
+
+Yes, the fact is already indubitable, a rich life, sure in due time of
+its rich expression, is forming here. As out of the deeps of Destiny,
+the Man for the Continent, head-craftsman, hand-craftsman, already puts
+his foot to this shore. All hail, new-comer! Welcome to great tasks,
+great toils, to mighty disciplines, to victories that shall not be too
+cheaply purchased, to defeats that shall be better than victories! We
+give thee joy of new powers, new work, unprecedented futures! We give
+the world joy of a new and mighty artist to plan, a new strong artisan
+to quarry and to build in the great architectures of humanity!
+
+
+
+THE POET KEATS.
+
+  His was the soul, once pent in English clay,
+  Whereby ungrateful England seemed to hold
+  The sweet Narcissus, parted from his stream,--
+  Endymion, not unmindful of his dream,
+  Like a weak bird the flock has left behind.
+
+  Untimely notes the poet sung alone,
+  Checked by the chilling frosts of words unkind;
+  And his grieved soul, some thousand years astray,
+  Paled like the moon in most unwelcome day.
+
+  His speech betrayed him ere his heart grew cold;
+  With morning freshness to the world he told
+  Of man's first love, and fearless creed of youth,
+  When Beauty he believed the type of Truth.
+
+  In the vexed glories of unquiet Troy,
+  So might to Helen's jealous ear discourse
+  The flute, first tuned on Ida's haunted hill,
+  Against OEnone's coming, to betray
+  In what sweet solitude her shepherd lay.
+
+  Yet, Poet-Priest! the world shall ever thrill
+  To thy loved theme, its charm undying still!
+  Hearts in their youth are Greek as Homer's song,
+  And all Olympus half contents the boy,
+  Who from the quarries of abounding joy
+  Brings his white idols without thought of wrong.
+
+  With reverent hand he sets each votive stone,
+  And last, the altar "To the God Unknown."
+
+  As in our dreams the face that we love best
+  Blooms as at first, while we ourselves grow old,--
+  As the returning Spring in sunlight throws
+  Through prison-bars, on graves, its ardent gold,--
+  And as the splendors of a Syrian rose
+  Lie unreproved upon the saddest breast,--
+  So mythic story fits a changing world:
+  Still the bark drifts with sails forever furled.
+  An unschooled Fancy deemed the work her own,
+  While mystic meaning through each fable shone.
+
+
+
+HER GRACE, THE DRUMMER'S DAUGHTER.
+
+
+Foray, a mass of crags embellished by some greenness, looked up to
+heaven a hundred miles from shore. It was a fortified position, and a
+place of banishment. In the course of a long war, waged on sea and land
+between two great nations, this, "least of all," became a point of some
+importance to the authority investing it; the fort was well supplied
+with the machinery of death, and the prison filled with prisoners. But
+peace had now been of long continuance; and though a nation's banner
+floated from the tower of the fort, and was seen afar by
+mariners,--though the cannon occupied their ancient places, ordered for
+instant use,--though all within the fort was managed and conducted day
+by day with careful regard to orders,--the operations indicated, in the
+spirit of their conduct, no fear of warlike surprises. No man gave or
+obeyed an order as if his life depended on his expedition. Neither was
+the prison the very place it had been; for, once, every cell had its
+occupant,--an exile, or a prisoner of war.
+
+The officials of the island led an easy life, therefore. Active was the
+brain that resisted the influences of so much leisure as most of these
+people had. But, under provocation even, Nature must be true. So true
+is she, indeed, that every violation of her dignities illustrates the
+meaning of that sovereign utterance, VENGEANCE IS MINE. She will not
+bring a thorn-tree from an acorn. Pray, day and night, and see if she
+will let you gather figs of thistles. Prayer has its conditions, and
+faith is not the sum of them.
+
+But Nature's buoyant spirits must needs conquer the weight of
+influences whose business is to depress. And they, seeking, find their
+centre among things celestial, in spite of all opposing. Much leisure,
+light labor, was not the worst thing that could befall some of the men
+whose lot was cast on Foray.
+
+Adolphus Montier was a member of the military band. He was drummer to
+the regiment by the grace of his capacity. Besides, he played on the
+French horn, to the admiration of his wife, and others; and he could
+fill, at need, the place of any missing member of the company, leaving
+nothing to be desired in the performance.
+
+Adolphus came to Foray in the first vessel that brought soldiers
+hither. He saw the first stone laid in the building of the fort. Here
+he had lived since. He was growing gray in the years of peace. He had
+some scars from the years of strife, he was a brave fellow, and
+idleness, a devil's bland disguise, found no favor with him.
+
+His daughter Elizabeth was the first child born on the island. Bronzed
+warriors smiled on her fair infancy; sometimes they called her, with
+affectionate intonation, "The Daughter of the Regiment." She deserved
+the notice they bestowed,--as infancy in general deserves all it
+receives,--but Elizabeth for other reasons than that she had come
+whence none could tell, and was going whither no man could
+predict,--for other reason than that she was the first discovered
+native of the island. She was a beautiful child; and I state this fact
+not specially in deference to the universal expectation that a
+character brought forward for anybody's notice should be personally
+capable of fascinating such. Indeed, it seems inevitable that we find
+our heroines and heroes in life beautiful. Miss Nightingale must needs
+remain our type of pure charity in person, as in character. Elisha Kent
+Kane among his icebergs must stand manifestly efficient for his
+"princely purpose," his eye and brow magnificent with beauty. Rachel,
+to every woman's memory, must live the unparalleled Camille.
+
+Little Elizabeth--I smile to write her name upon the page with
+these--it were a shame to cheat of beauty by any bungle of description.
+Is not a fair spirit predestined conqueror of flesh and blood? Have we
+not read of the noble lady whose loveliness a painter's eye was the
+very first to discover? Where the likeness? The soul saw it, not the
+eye; and he understood, who, seeing it, exclaimed, "Our friend--in
+heaven!" While Adolphus Montier cleaned and polished his French horn,
+an occupation which was his unfailing resource, if he could find
+nothing else to do, or when he practised his music, business in which
+he especially delighted when off duty, it was his pleasure to have wife
+and child with him.
+
+Imagination was an active power in the Drummer's sphere. He, away off
+in Foray, used to talk about the forms and colors of sounds, as if he
+knew about them; and he had not learned the talk in any school. He
+would have done no injury to transcendentalism. And he was a happy man,
+in that the persons before whom he indulged in this manner of speech
+rather encouraged it. Never had his Pauline's pride and fondness failed
+Adolphus the Drummer. Life in Foray was little less than banishment,
+though it had its wages and--renown; but Pauline made out of this
+single man her country, friends, and home. Never woman endeavored with
+truer single-heartedness to understand her spouse. In her life's aim
+was no failure. Let him expatiate on sound to the bounds of fancy's
+extravagance, she could confidently follow, and would have volunteered
+her testimony to a doubter, as if all were a question of tangible fact,
+to be definitely proved. So in every matter. For all the comfort she
+was to the man she loved, for her confidence in him who deserved it,
+for her patient endurance of whatsoever ill she met or bore, for
+choosing to walk in so peaceful a manner, with a heart so light and a
+face so fair, praise to the Drummer's wife!
+
+Elizabeth, the companion of her parents in all their happy rambling and
+unambitious home-life, was their joy and pride. If she frolicked in the
+grass while her father played his airs, she lost not a strain of the
+music. She hearkened also to his deep discourse, and gave good heed,
+when he illustrated the meaning of the tunes he loved to play. And
+these were rarely the stirring strains with which the Governor's policy
+kept the band chiefly busy when the soldiers gathered on summer nights
+in knots of listeners, and the ladies of the fort, the Governor's wife,
+and the wives of the officers, came out to enjoy the evening, or when a
+vessel touched the rocky shore.
+
+Elizabeth's vision was clearer than even love could make her
+mother's,--clearer than music made her father's; since a distinct
+conception of images seems not to be inevitable among the image-makers.
+The prophets are not always to be called upon for an interpretation. No
+white angel ever floats more clearly before the eyes of those who look
+on the sculptor's finished work than before the eyes of Elizabeth
+appeared the shapes and hues of sounds which swept in gay or solemn
+procession through the windings of her father's horn, floating over the
+blue water, dissolving as the mist. No bright-winged bird, fair flower,
+or gorgeous sunset or sea-wave, was more distinct to the child's eyes
+than the hues of the same notes, stately as palm or pine,--red as
+crimson, white as wool, rich and full as violet, softly compelling as
+amethyst.
+
+Pauline Montier was by nature as active and diligent as Adolphus. She
+was a seamstress before the days of Foray and the Drummer, and still
+continued to ply her needle, though no longer urged by necessity. She
+sewed for the officers' wives, she knit stockings and mufflers for the
+soldiers. The income thus derived independently of Montier's public
+service was very considerable.
+
+Born of such parents, Elizabeth would have had some difficulty in
+persuading herself that her business was to idle through this life.
+
+Her early experiences were not as peaceful as those which followed her
+tenth year. The noise of battle, the cries of defeat, the shouts of
+victory, the sight of agonized faces, the vision of death, the
+struggles of pain and anguish, the sorrow of bereavement,--she had seen
+all with those young eyes. She had heard the whispered command in
+hushed moments of mortal danger, and the shout of triumph--in the
+tumult of victory,--had watched blazing ships, seen prisoners carried
+to their cells, attended the burial of brave men slain in battle, had
+marched with soldiers keeping time to funeral strains. Her courage and
+her pity had been stirred in years when she could do no more than see
+and hear. Once standing, through the heat of a bloody engagement, by
+the side of a lad, a corporal's son, who was stationed to receive and
+communicate an order, a random shot struck the boy down at her side.
+She saw that he was dead,--waited for the order, transmitted it, and
+then carried away the lifeless body of her fellow-sentinel, staggering
+under the weighty burden, never resting till she had laid him in the
+shelter of his father's quarters. After the engagement, this story was
+told through the victorious ranks by the witnesses of her valor, and a
+medal was awarded the child by acclamation. She always wore it, and was
+as proud of it as a veteran of his ribbons and stars.
+
+But now, in times of peace, the fair flower of her womanhood was
+forming. Like a white hyacinth she grew,--a lady to look upon, with
+whom, for loveliness, not a lady of the fort could be compared. Not one
+of them in courage or unselfishness exceeded her.
+
+The family lived in a little house adjoining the barracks. It was a
+home that could boast of nothing beyond comfort and cleanliness;--the
+word comfort I use as the poor man understands it. Neither Adolphus nor
+Pauline had any worldly goods to bring with them when they came to
+Foray. They lived at first, and for a long time, in the barracks; the
+little house they now occupied had once been used for the storage of
+provisions; but when the war ended, Adolphus succeeded in obtaining
+permission to turn it into a dwelling-house. Here the child was
+sheltered, and taught the use of a needle; and here she learned to read
+and write.
+
+In the great vegetable garden which covered the space between the
+prison and the fort was a corner that reflected no great credit on the
+authorities. The persons who might reasonably have been expected to
+take that neglected bit of ground under their loving care did no such
+thing. The beds were weeded by Sandy, the gardener, and now and then a
+blossom rewarded that attention; but the flower-patch waited for
+Elizabeth.
+
+The gardener knew very well how she prized the pretty flowers;--they
+appealed to his own rude nature in a very tender way. He loved to see
+the young girl flying down the narrow paths as swiftly as a bird, if
+she but spied a bloom from afar. There was a tree whose branches hung
+over the wall, every one of them growing, with dreadful perversity,
+away from the cold, hard prison-ground which held the roots so fast.
+Time was never long enough when she sat in the shade of those branches,
+watching Sandy at his work.
+
+By-and-by it happened that the flower-garden was given over to the
+charge of the girl. It was natural that she, who had never seen other
+flower-beds than these, should, aided by the home-recollections of her
+mother, imagine far prettier,--that she should dare suggest to Sandy,
+until his patience and his skill were exhausted,--that the final good
+result should have come about in a moment when no one looked for
+it,--he giving up his task with vexation, she accepting it with
+humility, and both working together thereafter, the most helpful of
+friends.
+
+It required not many seasons for Elizabeth to prove her skill and
+diligence in the culture of this garden-ground,--not many for the
+transformation of square, awkward beds into a mass of bloom. How did
+those flowers delight the generous heart! With what particular splendor
+shone the house of Montier through all the summer season! The ladies
+now began to think about bouquets, and knew where they could find them.
+From this same blessed nook the Governor's table was daily supplied
+with its most beautiful ornament. Men tenderly disposed smiled on the
+young face that from under the broad-brimmed garden-hat smiled back on
+them. Some deemed her fairer than the flowers she cared for.
+
+One day in the spring of the year that brought her thirteenth birthday,
+Elizabeth ran down through the morning mist, and plucked the first
+spring flower. She stayed but to gather the beauty whose budding she
+had long watched; no one must rob her mother of this gift.
+
+She carried off the prize before the gaze of one who had also hailed it
+in the bleak, drear dawn. This was not the gardener;--and there was
+neither man, woman, nor child in sight, during the swift run;--no
+freeman; but a prisoner in an upper room of the prison. Through its
+grated window, the only one on that side of the building, he had that
+morning for the first time looked upon the island which had held him
+long a prisoner.
+
+Since daybreak he had stood before the window. The evening before, the
+stone had been rolled away from the door of his sepulchre,--not by an
+angel, neither by force of the resistless Life-spirit within, shall it
+be said? Who knows that it was _not_ by an angel? who shall aver it was
+_not_ by the resistless Life? At least, he was here,--brought from the
+cell he had occupied these five years,--brought from the arms of Death.
+His window below had looked on a dead stone-wall; this break in the
+massive masonry gave heaven and earth to him.
+
+The first ray of daylight saw him dragging his feeble body to the
+window. He did not remove from that post till the rain was over,--nor
+then, except for a moment. As the clouds rose from the sea, he watched
+them. How strange was the aspect of all things! Thus, while he had
+lived and not beheld, these trees had waved, these waters rolled, these
+clouds gathered,--grass had grown, and flowers unfolded; for he saw the
+scarlet bloom before Elizabeth plucked it. And all this while he had
+lived like a dead man, unaware! Not so; but now he remembered not the
+days, when, conscious of all this life, he had deathly despair in his
+heart, and stones alone for friends.
+
+Imprisonment and solitude had told upon the man. He was still young,
+and one whom Nature and culture had fitted for no obscure station in
+the world. He could, by every evidence he gave, perform no mere
+commonplaces of virtue or of vice. The world's ways would not assign
+his limitation. He was capable of devising and of executing great
+things,--and had proved the power; and to this his presence testified,
+even in dilapidation and listlessness.
+
+His repose was the repose of helplessness,--not that of grace or
+nature. The opening of this prospect with the daylight had not the
+effect to increase his tranquillity. His dejection in the past months
+had been that of a strong man who yields to necessity; his present mood
+was not inspired with hope. The waves that leaped in the morning's
+gloomy light were not so aimless as his life seemed to him. He had
+heard a bird sing in the branches of a tree whose roots were in the
+prison-yard,--now he could see her nest; he had heard the dismal
+pattering of the rain,--and now beheld it, and the clouds from which it
+fell; he saw the glimpses of the blue beyond, where the clouds were
+breaking; he saw the fort, the cannon mounted on the walls, the flag
+that fluttered from the tower, the barracks, the parade-ground, and the
+surrounding sea, whose boundaries he knew not; he saw the trees, he saw
+the garden-ground. Slowly his eyes scanned all,--and the soul that was
+lodged in the emaciated figure grew faint and sick with seeing. But no
+tears, no sighs, no indications of grief or despair or desperate
+submission. He had little to learn of suffering;--that he knew. How
+could he greet the day, hail the light, bless Nature for her beauty,
+thank God for his life? Oh, the weariness with which he leaned his head
+against those window-bars, faint and almost dying under the weight of
+thoughts that rushed upon him, fierce enough to slay, if he showed any
+resistance! But he manifested none. The day of struggle was over with
+him. He believed that they had brought him to this room to die. If any
+thought could give him joy, surely it was this. He was right. Yesterday
+the Governor of the island, hearing the condition of the prisoner, this
+one remaining man of all whose sentence had been endured within these
+walls, had ordered a change of scene for him. His sentence was
+imprisonment for life. Did they fear his release by the hands of one
+who hears the sighing of the prisoner, and gives to every bondman the
+Year of Jubilee? Were they jealous and suspicious of the approach of
+Death?
+
+Though he had been so long a prisoner, he showed in his person
+self-respect and dignity of nature. His hair and beard were grown long;
+many a gray thread shone in his chestnut locks; his mouth was a firm
+feature; his eyes quiet, but not the mildest; his forehead very ample;
+he was lofty in stature;--outside the prison, a freeman, his presence
+would have been commanding. But he needed the free air for his lungs,
+and the light to surround him,--the light to set him in relief, the
+sense of life to compel him to stand out in his own powerful
+individuality, distinct from every other living man.
+
+By-and-by, while he stood at the window, looking forth upon the strange
+scenes before him, this new heaven and new earth, the landscape became
+alive. The first human creature he had seen outside his cell since he
+became an inmate of this prison appeared before his eyes,--the young
+girl skipping through the garden till she came to the flower-bed and
+plucked the scarlet blossom. If she had been a spirit or an angel, he
+could hardly have beheld her with greater surprise.
+
+She was singing when she came. He thought he recognized that
+voice,--that it was the same he had often heard from the cell below.
+Many a time the horrible stillness of that cell had been broken by the
+sound of a child's voice, which, like a spirit, swept unhindered
+through the walls,--an essence of life, and a power.
+
+It was but a moment that she paused before the flower; she plucked it,
+and was gone. But his eyes could follow her. She did not really, with
+her disappearing, vanish. And yet this vision had not to him the
+significance of the bow seen in the cloud, whose interpreter, and whose
+interpretation, was the Almighty Love.
+
+All day he stood before that window. The keeper hailed the symptom. The
+Governor was satisfied with the report. Towards sunset the rain was
+over, and with the sun came forth abundant indications of the island
+life. The gardener walked among the garden-beds and measured his
+morrow's work, calculating time and means within his reach,--and
+vouchsafing some attention to the flower-garden, as was evident when he
+paused before it and made his thoughtful survey. The prisoner saw him
+smile when he took hold of the broken stalk which had been
+flower-crowned. And Sandy saw the prisoner.
+
+The next day Elizabeth came out with the gardener, and they began their
+day's work together. They seemed to be in the best spirits. The smell
+of the fresh-turned earth, the sight of the fresh shoots of tender
+green springing from bulb and root and branch, acted upon them like an
+inspiration. The warm sun also held them to their task. Sandy was
+generous in bestowing aid and counsel,--and also in the matter of his
+land,--trenching farther on the ground allotted to the vegetables than
+he had ever done before.
+
+"The land must pay for it," said he. "We'll make a foot give us a
+yard's worth. Cram a bushel into a peck, though 'The Doctor' said you
+never could do that! I know how to coax."
+
+"Yes, and you know how to order, if you have not forgotten, Sandy. You
+frightened me once for taking an inch over my share."
+
+"That was a long while back," answered honest Sandy,--"before I knew
+what the little girl could do. I've seen young folk work at gardening
+afore, but you do beat 'em all. How could I tell you would, though? You
+don't look it. Yes,--may-be you do, though. But you've changed since
+_I_ first knew you."
+
+"Why, I was nothing but a baby then, Sandy."
+
+"Yes, yes,--I know; but you're changed since then!"
+
+So they all spoke to Elizabeth, praising her, confiding in her with
+loving willingness,--the Daughter of the Regiment.
+
+The gardener was proud of his assistant, and seemed to enjoy the part
+she took in his labor. They worked till noon, Elizabeth stopping hardly
+a moment to rest. All this while the prisoner stood watching by his
+window, and the gardener saw him. The sight occasioned him a new
+perplexity, and he gravely considered the subject. It was a good while
+before he said to Elizabeth, speaking on conviction, in his usual low
+and rather mysterious tone,--
+
+"There's some one will enjoy it when all's done."
+
+"Who is that?" asked she, thinking he meant herself, perhaps.
+
+"One up above," was the answer.
+
+But though Sandy spoke thus plainly, he did not look toward the
+prison,--and the prison was the last place of which Elizabeth was
+thinking. It was so long a time since the cell with the window had an
+occupant, that she was almost unconscious of that gloomy neighborhood.
+So, when the gardener explained that it was one up above who would
+enjoy her work, her eyes instantly sought the celestial heights. She
+was thinking of sun, or star, or angel, may-be, and smiling at Sandy's
+speech, for sympathy.
+
+He saw her new mistake, and made haste to correct this also.
+
+"Not so high," said he, cautiously.
+
+Then, but as it seemed of chance, and not of purpose, the eyes of
+Elizabeth Montier turned toward the prison-wall, and fixed upon that
+window, the solitary one visible from the garden, and her face flushed
+in a manner that told her surprise--when she saw a man behind the iron
+bars.
+
+"Oh," said she, looking away quickly, as if conscious of a wrong done,
+"what made you tell me?"
+
+"I guess you will like to think one shut up like him will take a little
+pleasure looking at what he can't get at," said Sandy, almost
+sharply,--replying to something he did not quite understand, the pain
+and the reproof of Elizabeth's speech.
+
+"Oh, yes!" she answered, and went on with her work.
+
+But though she might be pleased to think that her labor would answer
+another and more serious purpose than her own gratification, or that of
+the pretty flowers, it was something new and strange for the girl to
+work under this mysterious sense of oversight.
+
+"You have only got to speak the word," said the gardener, who had
+perceived her perplexity, and was desirous of bringing her speedily to
+his view of the case, "just speak, and he will be carried back to his
+old cell below, t'other side."
+
+"Will he?"
+
+"Yes,--sure's you live, if he troubles you, Miss Elizabeth. Nobody will
+think of letting him trouble you."
+
+"Oh, me!" she exclaimed, quickly, "I should die quicker than have him
+moved where he couldn't see the garden."
+
+"I thought so," said Sandy, satisfied.
+
+"Did you think I would complain of his standing by his window, Sandy?"
+
+"How did I know you would like to be stared at?" asked he, with a
+laugh.
+
+Elizabeth blushed and looked grave; to her the matter seemed too
+terrible.
+
+"I might have said something," she mused, sadly.
+
+"And if it had been to the wrong person," suggested Sandy;--"for they
+a'n't very fond of him, I guess."
+
+"Who is he, then? I never heard."
+
+"He has been shut up in that building now a'most five year, Elizabeth,"
+said Sandy, leaning on the handle of the spade he had struck into the
+ground with emphasis.
+
+"Five years!"
+
+"Summer heat, and winter cold. All the same to him. No wonder he
+sticks, as if he was glued, to the window, now he's got one worth the
+glass."
+
+"Oh, let him!"
+
+"If he could walk about the garden, it would be better yet."
+
+"Won't he, Sandy?"
+
+"I can't say. He's here for some terrible piece of work, they say. And
+nobody knows what his name is, I guess,--hereabouts, I mean. I never
+heard it. He won't be out very quick. But let him _look_ out, any way."
+
+"Oh, Sandy! I might have said something that would have hindered!"
+
+"Didn't I know you wouldn't for the world? That's why I told you."
+
+The gardener now went on with his spading. But Elizabeth's work seemed
+finished for this day. Above them stood the prisoner. He guessed not
+what gentle hearts were pitiful with thinking of his sorrow.
+
+The next day the prisoner was not at the window, nor the next day, nor
+the next. Sandy was bold enough to ask the keeper, Mr. Laval, what was
+the meaning of it, and learned that the man was ill, and not likely to
+recover. Sandy told Elizabeth, and they agreed in thinking that for the
+poor creature death was probably the least of evils.
+
+But the day following that on which they came to this conclusion, the
+sick man appeared before Sandy's astonished eyes. He was under the
+keeper's care. The physician had ordered this change of air, and they
+came to the garden at an hour when there was least danger of meeting
+other persons in the walks.
+
+Sandy had much to tell Elizabeth when he saw her next. She trembled
+while he told her how he thought that he had seen a ghost when the
+keeper came leading the prisoner, whose pale face, tall figure, feeble
+step, appeared to have so little to do with human nature and affairs.
+
+"Did he seem to care for the flowers? did he take any?" she asked.
+
+"No,--he would not touch them. The keeper offered him whatever he would
+choose. He desired nothing. But he looked at all, he saw
+everything,--even the beds of vegetables," Sandy said.
+
+"Did he seem pleased?" Elizabeth again asked.
+
+"Pleased!" exclaimed Sandy. "That's for you and me,--not a man that's
+been shut up these five years. No,--he didn't look pleased. I don't
+know how he looked; don't ask me; 'tisn't pleasant to think of."
+
+"I would have made him take the flowers, if I had been here," said
+Elizabeth, in a manner that seemed very positive, in comparison with
+Sandy's uncertain speech.
+
+"May-be,--I dare say," Sandy acquiesced; but he evidently had his
+doubts even of her power in this business.
+
+She must take no notice of the prisoner, she was given to understand
+one day, if she was to remain in the garden while he walked there. So
+she took no notice.
+
+He came and went. Manuel, the keeper called him; and she was busy with
+her weeding, and neither saw nor heard. Ah, she did not!--did _not_ see
+the figure that came moving like a spectre through the gates!--did not
+hear the slow dragging step of one who is weary almost to
+helplessness,--the listless step that has lost the spring of hope, the
+exultation of life, the expectation of spirit, the strength of
+manhood!--She did hear, did see the man. We feel the nearness of our
+friend who is a thousand miles away. Something beside the sunshine is
+upon us, and receives our answering smile. That sudden shadow is not of
+the passing cloud. That voice at midnight is not the disturbance of a
+dream.--He walked about the garden; he retired to his cell. It might
+have been an hour, or a minute, or a day. It does not take time to
+dream a life's events. How is the drowning man whirled round the circle
+of experiences which were so slow in their development!
+
+Compassion without limit, courageous purpose impatient of inaction,
+troubled this young girl.
+
+"You behaved like a lady," said Sandy,--"you never looked up. You
+needn't run now, I'm sure, when he thinks of taking a turn. All we've
+got to do is to mind our own business, Mr. Laval says. I guess we can.
+But I did want to let off those chains."
+
+"What chains?" asked Elizabeth, as with a shudder she looked up at
+Sandy.
+
+"His wrists, you know,--locked," he explained.
+
+"Oh!" groaned the gentle soul, and she walked off, forgetful of the
+flowers, tools, Sandy, everything. But Sandy followed her; she heard
+him calling to her, and before the garden-gate she waited for him; he
+was following on a run.
+
+"I can tell you what it's for," said he, for he had no idea of keeping
+the secret to himself, and he dared not trust it to any other friend.
+
+"What is it?" she asked,--and she trembled when she asked, and while
+she waited for his answer.
+
+"For lighting the Church. Would you think that? He did such damage, it
+wasn't safe for him to be at liberty. That's how it was. I think he
+must be a Lutheran;--you know they don't believe in the Holy Ghost! Of
+course,--poor fellow!--it's right he should be shut up for warring with
+the Church that came down through the holy Apostles, when you know all
+the rest only started up with Luther and Calvin. He ought to have
+knowed better."
+
+"Who told you, Sandy?" asked Elizabeth, as if her next words might
+undertake to extenuate and justify.
+
+"It came straight enough, I understand. But--remember--you don't know
+anything about it. His name is Manuel, though;--don't dare to mention
+it;--that's what Mr. Laval calls him. Are you going? I wouldn't have
+told you a word, but you took his trouble so to heart. You see, now,
+it's right he should be shut up. But let on that you know anything, all
+the worse for me,--I mean, him!"
+
+"Yes," said Elizabeth, "you're safe, Sandy. Thank you for telling me."
+
+Sandy walked off with a mind relieved, for he believed in Elizabeth,
+and had found the facts communicated too great a burden to bear alone.
+
+She passed through the garden-gate most remote from the fort; it opened
+into a lonely road which ran inland from the coast, between the woods
+and the prison, and to the woods she went. The shadows were gloomy
+to-day, for she went among them lamenting the fate of the
+stranger;--the mystery surrounding him had increased, not lessened,
+with Sandy's explanation.
+
+Fighting against _the Church_ was an unimagined crime. Of the great
+conflict in which he had taken part, to the ruin of his fortunes, she
+knew nothing. The disputes of Christendom, had they been explained,
+would have seemed almost incredible to her. For, whatever was known and
+discussed in the circle of the Governor of the island, Drummer Montier,
+and such as he, kept the peace with all mankind. The Church took care
+of itself, and appeared neither the oppressor nor the Saviour of the
+world. What they had fought about in the first years of the possession
+of Foray, Montier could hardly have told,--and yet he was no fool. He
+could have given, of course, a partisan version of the struggle; but as
+to its real cause, or true result, he knew as little as the other five
+hundred men belonging to the regiment.
+
+While Elizabeth wandered through those gloomy woods, she saw no
+flowers, gathered no wild fruits,--though flowers and berries were
+perfect and abundant. Now and then she paused in her walk to look
+towards the prison, glimpses of whose strong walls were to be had
+through the trees. At length the sound of her father's horn came loud
+and clear from the cliffs beyond the wood. It fell upon her sombre
+meditation and slightly changed the current. She hurried forward to
+join him, and, as she went, a gracious purpose was shining in her face.
+
+When she returned home, it was by the unfrequented prison-way, her
+father playing the liveliest tunes he knew. For the first time in their
+lives they sat down by the side of the lonely road where they had
+emerged from the wood; Elizabeth's memory served her to recall every
+air that was sweet to her, and she listened while her father played,
+endeavoring to understand the sound those notes would have to "Manuel."
+
+Montier could think of no worthier employment than the practice of his
+music. Especially it pleased him that his daughter should ask so much
+as she was now asking: he could not discern all that was passing in her
+heart, nor see how many shadows moved before those sweet, serious eyes.
+
+They went home at night-fall together; and the young girl's step was
+not more light, now that her heart was troubled by what she must not
+reveal, even to him.
+
+The next morning Sandy was very busy with Elizabeth, tying up some
+flowers which had been tossed about, and broken, many of them, in the
+night gale, when the keeper came through the gate, leading this Manuel,
+who, grim as a spectral shadow, that had been fearful but for its
+exceeding pitifulness, stood now between her and all that she rejoiced
+in. "There!" exclaimed Sandy. Looking up, she saw them approaching
+straight along the path that led past the flowerbeds.
+
+"Your flowers had a pretty rough time of it in the storm," said Jailer
+Laval, as he drew near. He addressed the drummer's daughter,--but his
+eyes were on Sandy, with the suspicious and stern inquiry common to men
+who have betrayed a secret. But Sandy was busy with his delving.
+
+"Yes," answered Elizabeth, and she looked from the ground up to the
+faces of these men.
+
+"Is that a rose-bush? That was roughly handled," said Laval, pointing
+with his stick to the twisted rose-stalk covered with buds, over whose
+blighted promise she had been lamenting.
+
+"Yes," said Elizabeth again; but she hardly knew what she said, still
+less was she aware of the expression her face wore when she looked at
+the prisoner. Yes,--even as Sandy said, big wrists were chained
+together; he was more like a ghost than a man; his face was pale and
+hopeless, and woful beyond her understanding was the majesty of his
+mien.
+
+At such a price he paid for fights against _the Church!_ But in truth
+he had not the look of an evil, warring man. His gravity, indeed, was
+such as it seemed impossible to dispel. But only pity stirred the heart
+of Elizabeth Montier as she looked on him. Surely it was a face that
+never, in any excess of passion, could have looked malignance. Ah! and
+at such a price he purchased his sunshine, the fresh air, and a near
+vision of this flower-garden!--in chains!
+
+When she looked at him, his gaze was on her,--not upon the roses. She
+smiled, for pity's sake; but the smile met no return. His countenance
+had not the habit of responding to such glances. Sombre as death was
+that face. Then Elizabeth turned hastily away; but as the keeper also
+moved on a step, she detained him with a hurried "Wait a minute," and
+went on plucking the finest flowers in bloom. Like an iron statue stood
+the prisoner while she plucked the roses,--it was but a minute's
+work,--then she tied the flowers together and laid them on his fettered
+hands; whether he would refuse them, whether the gift pained or pleased
+him, whether the keeper approved, she seemed afraid to know,--for,
+having given the flowers, she went away in haste.
+
+It was not long after this first act of friendly courtesy, which had
+many a repetition,--for the keeper was at bottom a humane man, and not
+disposed to persecute his charge, while he was equally far from any
+carelessness in guarding or leniency of treatment that would have
+excited suspicion as to his purpose, in the minds of the authorities of
+the island,--not long after this day, when the fine sympathy betrayed
+for him by Elizabeth fell on Manuel's heart like dew, that the wife of
+the jailer died.
+
+Her death was sudden and unlooked-for, though neither Nature nor the
+woman could have been blamed for the shock poor Laval experienced.
+Death had fairly surrounded her, disarming her at every point, so that
+when he called her there was no resistance.
+
+Jailer Laval took the bereavement in a remorseful mood. The first thing
+to be done now was the very last he would have owned to purposing
+during her life-time. Release from that prison had been the woman's
+prayer, year in and year out, these ten years, and Death was the bearer
+of the answer to that prayer,--not her husband.
+
+But now, from the day of her sudden decease, the prison had become to
+him dreary beyond endurance. The mantle of her discontent fell on him,
+and, having no other confidant beside honest, stupid Sandy, he talked
+to him like a man who seriously thought of abandoning his labor, and
+retiring to that land across the sea for which his wife had pined
+during ten homesick years.
+
+Sandy, who might have regarded himself in the light of an "humble
+instrument," had he been capable of a particle of vanity or
+presumption, told Elizabeth Montier, with whom he had held many a
+conference concerning prison matters, since Manuel first began to walk
+along the southern garden-walk, where the flower-beds lay against the
+prison-wall. What was her answer? It came instantly, without
+premeditation or precaution,--
+
+"Then we must take his place, Sandy."
+
+"We, Miss?" said Sandy, with even greater consternation than surprise.
+
+"Yes," she replied, too much absorbed by what she was thinking, to mind
+him and his blunders,--"papa must take the prison."
+
+"Oh!"--and Sandy blushed through his tan at his absurd mistake. Then he
+laughed, for he saw that she had not noticed it. Then he looked grave,
+and wondering, and doubtful. The idea of Adolphus Montier's pretty wife
+and pretty daughter changing their pretty home for life in the dark
+prison startled him. He seemed to think it no less wrong than strange.
+But he did not express that feeling out and out; he was hindered, as he
+glanced sideways at the young girl who gazed so solemnly, so loftily,
+before her. At what she was looking he could not divine. He saw
+nothing.
+
+"I wouldn't be overly quick about that," said he, cautiously.
+
+"No danger!" was the prompt reply.
+
+"For I tell _you_, of all the places I ever see, that prison makes me
+feel the queerest. I believe it's one reason I let the flower-garden go
+so long," owned Sandy. He did not speak these words without an effort;
+and never had Elizabeth seen him so solemn. She also was grave,--but
+not after his manner of gravity.
+
+"You see what I did with the poor flower-beds, Sandy," said she. "Wait
+now till you see what happens to the prison."
+
+But it is one thing to purpose, and another to execute. Far easier for
+Elizabeth to declare than to conduct an heroic design. One thing
+prevented rest day and night,--the knowledge that Laval's intended
+resignation must be followed by a new application and appointment. With
+such a degree of sympathy had the condition of the captive inspired
+her, that the idea of the bare possibility of cruelty or neglect or
+brutality assuming the jailer's authority seemed to lay upon her all
+the responsibility of his future. She must act, for she dared not
+hesitate.
+
+One evening Adolphus took his horn, and, attended by wife and child,
+went out to walk. He meant to send a strain from the highest of the
+accessible coast-rocks. But Elizabeth changed his plan. The time was
+good for what she had to say. Instead of expending his enthusiasm on a
+flourish of notes, he was called upon to manifest it in a noble
+resolution.
+
+When Elizabeth invited her father to a prospect sylvan rather than
+marine, to the shady path on the border of the wood between it and the
+prison, Montier, easily drawn from any plan that concerned his own
+inclination merely, let his daughter lead, and she was responsible for
+all that followed in the history of that little family. So love defers
+to love, with divine courtesy, through all celestial movements.
+
+After playing a few airs, Montier's anticipated evening ended, and
+another set in. The sympathies of a condition, the opposite to that of
+which he had been so happily conscious, pressed too closely against
+him. The musician could not, for the life of him, have played with
+becoming spirit through any one of all the strains of victory he knew.
+
+Near him, under a tulip-tree, sat Pauline, with her knitting in her
+hand, the image of peace. Not so Elizabeth. She was doubting, troubled.
+But when the bird her father's music moved to sing was still, she
+spoke, as she had promised herself she would, asking a question, of
+whose answer she had not the slightest doubt.
+
+"Papa, do you know that Mr. Laval is going away?"
+
+"Why, yes, that's the talk, I believe."
+
+"Will they get somebody to take his place?"
+
+"Of course. There's a prisoner on hand yet, you know,--and the house to
+look after."
+
+"A big house, too, and dreadful dreary," remarked the mother of
+Elizabeth. "Laval's wife used to say, when she came up to see me
+sometimes, it was like being a prisoner to live in that building. And
+now she's dead and gone, he begins to think the same."
+
+"Suppose we take Laval's place," suggested Montier, looking very
+seriously at his wife; but the suggestion did not alarm her. Adolphus
+often expressed his satisfaction with existing arrangements by making
+propositions of exchange for other states of life, propositions which
+never disturbed his wife or daughter. They understood these
+demonstrations of his deep content. Therefore, at these words of his,
+Pauline smiled, and for the reason that the words could draw forth such
+a smile Elizabeth looked grave.
+
+"I wish we could, papa," said she.
+
+"You wish we could, you child?" exclaimed her mother, wondering. "It
+looks so pleasant, eh?" and the fair face of Pauline turned to the
+prison, and surveyed it, shuddering.
+
+"For the prisoner's sake," said Elizabeth. "Who knows but a cruel
+keeper may be put in Laval's place? He is almost dead with grief, that
+prisoner is,--I know by his face. After he is gone, there won't be any
+prisoner there,--and we could make it very pleasant."
+
+"Pleasant! What do you mean by pleasant?" asked Pauline, inwardly vexed
+that her child had suggested the question,--and yet too just, too
+kindly disposed, to put the subject away with imperative refusal to
+consider it. "I never was in a place so horrid."
+
+"But if it was our home, and all our things were there," urged
+Elizabeth, "it would be different. It depends on who lives in a house,
+you know."
+
+"Yes, that is so; it depends a little, but not entirely. It would be
+more than your mother could do to make a pleasant-looking place out of
+that prison. You see it is different in the situation, to begin with.
+Up where we live the sun is around us all day, if it is anywhere; and
+then the little rooms are so light! If you put a flower into them, you
+think you have a whole garden. Besides, it's Home up there, and down
+here it isn't."--Saying this, Adolphus rose up quickly, as though he
+had a mind to quit the spot.
+
+"When they select a man to fill Laval's place, of course they will be
+careful to choose one as good and kind," said Pauline, with mild
+confidence.
+
+"The jailer before him was not good and kind," remarked her daughter.
+
+"They dismissed him for it," said Adolphus, quickly.
+
+"But they said the prisoners were half-starved, and abused every way.
+It was a good while before it was found out. That might happen again,
+and less chance of any one knowing it. He is so near dead now, it
+wouldn't take much to kill him."
+
+No one replied to this argument. Pauline and Adolphus talked of other
+things, and the musician returned to his music. But all in good time.
+Elizabeth was capable of patience, and at last her father said, looking
+around him to make sure that his remark would have only two
+listeners,--
+
+"That prisoner isn't a man to be talked of about here. You never heard
+_me_ mention him. Laval used to give a--a--bad account of him. He had
+to be kept alive."
+
+"Till he heard your music, papa, and was moved up to the room with a
+window. Did he tell you that?" asked Elizabeth.
+
+"He said he thought the music did him good," acknowledged Adolphus.
+
+"May-be it was the same as with Saul when David played for him. But he
+does not look like a bad man, papa. He looks grander than any of our
+officers. And he has fought battles, they say. He is very brave."
+
+Both Adolphus and Pauline Montier looked at their daughter with the
+most profound surprise when she spoke thus. Not merely her words, but
+her manner of speaking, caused this not agreeable perplexity. Her
+emotion was not only too obvious, it was too deep for their
+understanding. The mother was the first to speak.
+
+"How did you hear all this, child? _I_ never heard him talked of in
+this way. They don't talk about him at all,--do they, Adolphus?"
+
+"No," he answered; but he spoke the word very mildly. The tone did not
+indicate a want of sympathy in the compassion of his daughter.
+
+Elizabeth looked from her mother to her father. What friends had she,
+if these were not her friends?
+
+"The jailer told Sandy, and Sandy told me," she said. "But they never
+talk to any other person. Oh! I was afraid to hear about it; but now I
+have heard, I was afraid not to speak. Would it be so dreadful for you
+to live here, when we could always have music and the garden? And these
+woods seem pleasant, when you get acquainted. Day or night I can't get
+him out of my mind. It is just as if you were shut up that way, papa. I
+am afraid to be happy when any one is so wretched."
+
+The result was, that Elizabeth's words, and not so much her words as
+the state of things she contrived to make apparent by them, brought
+Adolphus Montier to a clear, resistless sense of the prisoner's fate.
+Over the features of that fate he was for days brooding. Now and then a
+word that indicated the direction of his thinking would escape him in
+his wife's hearing. Silently Pauline followed Adolphus to the end of
+all this thinking. Once she walked alone along the unfrequented road
+that ran between the prison and the wood, down to the sea; and she
+looked at the gloomy fortress, and tried to think about it as she
+should, if certain that within its walls her lot would soon be cast.
+
+And more than once Montier walked home that way; and if it chanced that
+he had his horn or his drum with him, he marched at quickstep, and
+played the liveliest tunes, and emerged from the shadows of the wood
+with a spirit undaunted. He had played for the prisoner, whom he had
+never yet seen,--but not more for him than for himself.
+
+One Sunday, when the little family walked out together, Adolphus and
+his wife fell into a pleasant train of thought,--and when they were
+together, thought and speech were generally simultaneous. As they
+passed the prison,--for Adolphus had led the way to this path,--Laval
+was standing in the door. They stopped to speak with him; whereat he
+invited them into his quarters.
+
+In this walk, Elizabeth had fallen behind her parents. When she saw
+them going into the prison, she quickened her pace, for her father
+beckoned to her. But she was in no earnest haste to follow, as became
+sufficiently manifest when she was left alone.
+
+They had not gone far in their talk, however, when she came to the
+doorway. Laval, in all his speech, was a deliberate man, and neither
+Adolphus nor his wife showed any eagerness in the conduct of the
+conversation now begun. The contrast between the gloom of the apartment
+and the light and cheerfulness of their own home was apparent to all of
+them. Elizabeth felt the oppression under which each of the little
+party seemed to labor, the instant she joined her parents. Susceptible
+as they all were to the influences of Nature, her sunshine and her
+shadow, this gloom which fell upon them was nothing more than might
+have been anticipated.
+
+Jailer Laval was homesick, and innocent of a suspicion of what was
+passing in the minds of his guests; he was therefore free in making his
+complaints, and acknowledged that he was not fit to keep the
+prison,--it required a man of more nerve than he had. The dread of the
+place which his poor wife had entertained seemed to have taken
+possession of him since her death. All the arguments which he once
+used, in the endeavor to bolster her courage, he had now forgotten. He
+was very cautious when he began to speak of the prisoner, and tried to
+divert Adolphus from the point by saying that he would much prefer a
+house full of convicts to one so empty as this. There was at least
+something like society in that, and something to do.
+
+Adolphus, in spite of his discontent at hearing merely these deductions
+of experience, when his desire was to know something of Manuel, heard
+nothing of importance. The speech of the jailer on this subject was not
+to be had. His mind seemed to be wandering, except when his wife, or
+his native land, was referred to; then he brightened into speech, but
+never once into cheerfulness. As he sat there in the middle of his
+chamber, he seemed to represent the genius of the place,--and anything
+less enlivening or desirable in the way of human life could hardly be
+imagined. Pauline looked at him and sighed. She looked at Adolphus;--a
+pang shot through her heart; the shadow of the man seemed to overshadow
+him. Out of this place, where all appeared to be fast changing into
+"goblins damned"!
+
+It was she who led the way; but, pausing in the court-yard, Elizabeth
+evinced still greater haste to be gone, for she ran on with fleet step,
+and a heart heavy with foreboding as to the result of this interview.
+She was also impatient to get into the open sunlight, and did not rest
+in this progress she was making outward till she had come to the
+sea-shore. Elizabeth Montier was in a state of dire perplexity just
+then, and if she had been asked whether she would really choose to
+effect the change proposed in their way of living, it would have been
+no easy matter for her to discover her mind.
+
+By the sea-shore she sat down, and her father and mother followed
+slowly on. They were not talking as they came. But as they approached
+the beach, Adolphus could not resist the prospect before them. Loud was
+the blast he blew upon his horn, nor did he cease playing until his
+music had restored him to a more natural mood than that in which the
+interview with Laval left him. The prison was becoming a less startling
+image of desolate dreariness to him. And Adolphus was the master-spirit
+in his family. If he was gay, it was barely possible for his wife and
+child to be sad. Of the prison not one word was spoken by either. They
+had not revealed to each other their inmost mind when they went into
+Laval's quarters; they did not reveal it when they came thence. But as
+they strolled along the rocky shore, or returned homeward, they thought
+of little beside the prison and the prisoner. As to Elizabeth, nothing
+required of her that she should urge the matter further. She had
+neither heart nor courage for such urging.
+
+It was Adolphus himself who spoke to Pauline the next day, after he had
+deliberately thrown himself in the way of the prisoner, that he might
+with his own eyes see what manner of man he was; for seeing was
+believing.
+
+"Pauline," said he, almost persuaded of the truth of his own words,
+"you and Elizabeth would make a different place of that prison from
+what it is now. I should like to see it tried."
+
+Pauline Montier made no haste to answer; she was afraid that she knew
+what he expected of her.
+
+"Do you see," continued Adolphus, "Elizabeth won't speak of it again?
+But what must she think of us? He is a man. They say we are all
+brothers."
+
+"I know it," said, almost sighed, his wife.
+
+"Looking out for our own comfort!" exclaimed Adolphus. "So mighty
+afraid of doing what we'd have done for us! Besides, I believe we could
+make it pretty pleasant. Cool in summer, and warm in winter. I'd
+whitewash pretty thorough. And if the windows were rubbed up, your way,
+the light might get through."
+
+"Poor Joan Laval!" said Pauline. "Body and mind gave out. She was
+different at first."
+
+"Do you think it was the prison?" asked Adolphus, quickly, like a man
+halting between two opinions,--there was no knowing which way he would
+jump.
+
+"Something broke her down," replied his wife. She was looking from one
+window,--he from another.
+
+"Joan Laval was Joan Laval," said Adolphus, with an effort. "Always
+was. Frightened at her own shadow, I suppose. But--there! we won't
+think of it. I know how it looks to you, Pauline. Very well,--I don't
+see why we should make ourselves miserable for the sake of somebody who
+has got to be miserable anyhow,--and deserves it, I suppose, or he
+wouldn't be where he is."
+
+"Poor fellow!" sighed Pauline,--as if it were now her turn on the rack.
+
+Here Adolphus let the matter rest. He had overcome his own scruples so
+far as honestly to make this proposal to his wife. But he would do no
+more than propose,--not for an instant urge the point. Surely, that
+could not be required of him. Charity, he remembered, begins at home.
+
+But Pauline could not let the matter rest here. Her struggle was yet to
+come. It was she, then, who alone was unwilling to sacrifice her
+present home for the sake of a stranger and prisoner!
+
+Now Pauline Montier was a good Christian woman, and various words of
+holy utterance began herewith to trouble her. And from a by no means
+tranquil musing over them, she began to ask herself, What, after all,
+was home? Was happiness indeed dependent on locality when the heart of
+love was hers? Could she not give up so little as a house, in order to
+secure the comfort of a son of misfortune,--a solitary man,--a dying
+prisoner? What she would not give up freely might any day be taken from
+her. If fire did not destroy it, the government, which took delight in
+interference, might see fit to order that the house they occupied
+should be used again for the original purpose of storage.
+
+And then the discomforts of the prison began to appear very
+questionable. She remembered that Joan Laval was, as Adolphus hinted,
+weakly, nervous, 'frightened at her own shadow,'--a woman who had
+never, for any single day of her life, lived with a lofty purpose,--a
+cumberer of the ground, who could only cast a shadow.
+
+She perceived that they would be close to the flower-garden; a minute's
+walk would lead them to the pleasant woods,--and Pauline Montier always
+loved the woods.
+
+Indeed, when she began to take this ground, the first steps of
+occupation alone could be timid or doubtful. After that, her humanity,
+her sympathy, her confidence in her husband and daughter, drew the
+woman on, till she forgot how difficult the first steps had been.
+
+She surprised both husband and daughter by saying to Adolphus, the
+moment she came to her conclusion, that he had better make inquiry of
+Laval whether he had signified his intention to resign, and forthwith
+seek the appointment from the Governor of the island.
+
+When Pauline said this, she attested her sincerity by making ready to
+accompany Adolphus at once to the prison, that they might run no risk
+of losing the situation by delay. Seeing that they were of one mind,
+and entirely confiding in each other, they all went together to the
+prison to consult with Laval. Thus it came to pass, that, before the
+week ended, the charge of the prison had been transferred to Adolphus
+Montier.
+
+The family made great efforts in order to impart an air of cheerfulness
+and home-comfort to their new dwelling-place. Adolphus whitewashed,
+according to promise; Pauline scrubbed, according to nature; they
+arranged and rearranged their little stock of furniture,--set the
+loud-ticking day-clock on the mantel-shelf, and displayed around it the
+china cups, the flower-vase, and the little picture of their native
+town which Adolphus cut from a sheet of letter-paper some old friend
+had sent him, and framed with more tender feeling than skill. They did
+their best, each one, and said to one another, that, when they got used
+to the place, to the large rooms and high ceilings and narrow windows,
+it would of course seem like home, to them, because--it _was_ their
+HOME. Were they not all together? were not these their own household
+goods, around them? Still, they needed all this mutual encouragement
+and heartiness of cooeperation which was so nobly, so generously
+manifested; and it was sincere enough to insure the very result of
+contentment and satisfaction which they were so wise as to anticipate.
+But the Governor thought,--_The Drummer is getting ambitious; he wants
+a big house, and authority!_
+
+Ex-jailer Laval was exceedingly active in assisting his own outgoing
+and the incoming of Montier. He helped Adolphus in the heavy labors of
+removal, and laughed more during the conduct of these operations than
+he had been known to do in years. He said nothing to Prisoner Manuel of
+the intended change in jail-administration until the afternoon when for
+the last time he walked out with him.
+
+The information was received with apparent indifference, without
+question or comment, until Laval, half vexed, and wholly sorrowful for
+the sad state of the prisoner, said,--
+
+"I am sorry for you, Sir. I can say that, now I'm going off. I've been
+as much a prisoner as you have, I believe. And I wish you were going to
+be set free to-night, as I am. I am going home! But I leave you in good
+care,--better than mine. I never have gone ahead of my instructions in
+taking care of you. I never took advantage of your case, to be cruel or
+neglectful. If anything has ever passed that made you think hard of me,
+I hope you will forgive it, for I can say I have done the best I could
+or dared."
+
+Thus called upon to speak, the prisoner said merely, "I believe
+you."
+
+Whereat the jailer spoke again, and with a lighter heart.
+
+"I am glad you're in luck this time,--for you are. You don't know who
+is coming to take the charge,--come, I mean, for they are all in, and
+settled. That's Montier, the little girl's father. He is a drummer, and
+a little of everything else. It's his horn that you hear sometimes. And
+you know Elizabeth, who was always so kind about the flowers. His wife,
+too, she's a pretty woman, and kind as kind can be."
+
+"What have they come here for?" asked the prisoner, amazed.
+
+"I'll tell you," said Laval, more generous than he had designed to be;
+but he knew how he should wish, when the sea rolled between him and
+Foray, that he had spoken every comfortable word in his knowledge to
+this man; he knew it by his recent experiences of remorse in reference
+to his buried wife, and was wise enough to profit by the
+knowledge;--"I'll tell you. It's on your account. They were afraid
+somebody that didn't know how long you have been here, and how much you
+have suffered, would get the place; so they all came together and asked
+for it. They had a pretty little house up nigh the barracks, but they
+gave it up to come here. You'll see Montier to-night. For when I go
+back to your room with you, then I'm going off to--to"----he hesitated,
+for foremost among his instructions was this, that he should remain
+silent about his purpose of returning home; he was not to go as a
+messenger for the prisoner across the ocean to their native land----"to
+my business," he said. "If you'll be kind to him, you will make
+something by it. I thought I would tell you,--so, when you saw a
+strange face in your room, you would know what it meant without
+asking."
+
+"I thank you," said the prisoner; and to the jailer it now seemed as if
+the figure of the man beside him grew in height and strength,--as if he
+trod the ground less feebly and listlessly while he spoke these words.
+A divine consolation must have strengthened him even then, or he could
+never have added with such emphasis, "Wherever you go, take this my
+assurance with you,--you have not been cruel or careless. You have done
+as well as you could. I thank you for it."
+
+"You don't ask me where I'm going," said the jailer, after a silence
+that seemed but brief to him,--such a deal of argument he had
+dispatched, so many difficulties he had overcome in those few moments,
+whose like, for mental activity and conclusiveness, he had never seen
+before, and never would see again. "I shall be asked if I have told
+you. But--where did you come from? Do not tell me your name. But whom
+did you leave behind you that you would care most should know you are
+alive and in good hands?"
+
+These questions, asked in good faith, would have had their answer; but
+while the prisoner was preparing such reply as would have proceeded,
+brief and wholly to the point, from the confusion of hope and surprise,
+the Governor of Foray came in sight, drew near, and, suspicious, as
+became him, walked in silence by the prisoner's side, while Laval
+obeyed his mute instructions, leading Manuel back to his cell. A vessel
+was approaching the shore of Foray.
+
+Having disposed of his prisoner, the jailer in turn was marched, like
+one under arrest, up to the fort, where he remained, an object of
+suspicion, until his time came for sailing, and, without knowing it, he
+went home under guard.
+
+When Adolphus Montier ascended to the prisoner's room that night, he
+found him standing by the window. After Laval left him, he had looked
+from out that window, and seen the white sail of a vessel; he could not
+see it now, but there he stood, watching, as though he knew not that
+his chance of hope was over.
+
+As Adolphus entered the room, the prisoner turned immediately to
+him,--asking quietly, as if he had not been suddenly tossed into a gulf
+of despair by the breeze that brought him hope,--
+
+"Has Laval sailed?"
+
+"When the cannon fired," was the answer.
+
+Then Adolphus placed the dish containing the prisoner's supper on the
+table; he had already lighted the lamp in the hall. And now he wanted
+to say something, on this his first appearance in the capacity of
+keeper, and he knew what to say,--he had prepared himself abundantly,
+he thought. But both the heart and the imagination of Adolphus Montier
+stood in the way of such utterance as he had prepared. The instant his
+eyes fell on that figure, lonely and forlorn, the instant he heard that
+question, his kind heart became weakness, he stood in the prisoner's
+place,--he saw the vessel sailing on its homeward voyage,--he beheld
+men stepping from sea to shore, walking in happy freedom through the
+streets of home;--a vision that filled his eyes with tears was before
+him, and he was long in controlling his emotion sufficiently to say,--
+
+"We are in Laval's place, Sir, and we hope you will have no cause to
+regret the change. I don't know how to be cruel and severe,--but I must
+do my duty. But I wasn't put here for a tyrant."
+
+"I know why you are here; Laval told me," said the prisoner.
+
+"Then we're friends, a'n't we?" asked Adolphus; "though I must do my
+duty by them that employ me. You understand. I'd set every door and
+window of this building wide open for you, if I had my way; though I
+don't know what you're here for. But I swear before heaven and earth,
+nothing will tempt me to forget my duty to the government;--if you
+should escape, it would be over my dead body. So you see my position."
+
+"Yes," said the prisoner; and if anything could have tempted a smile
+from him, this manner of speech would have done it. But Adolphus was
+far enough from smiling.
+
+"Come, eat something," said he, with tremulous persuasion. "My wife
+knows how to get up such things. She will do the best for you she can."
+
+"Thank you."
+
+The prisoner again looked out of the window. It was growing dark; the
+outline of sea and land was fading out of sight; dreary looked the
+world without,--but within the lamp seemed shining with a brighter
+light than usual. And here was a person and a speech, a human sympathy,
+that almost warmed and soothed him.
+
+He approached the table where Adolphus had spread his supper. He sat in
+the chair that was placed for him, and the Drummer waited on him,
+recommending Pauline's skill again, much as he might have presented a
+petition. The prisoner ate little, but he praised Pauline, and said
+outright that he had tasted nothing so palatable as her supper these
+five years. This cheered Montier a little, but still his spirits were
+almost at the lowest point of depression.
+
+"You seem to pity me," remarked the prisoner, when Adolphus was
+gathering up the remains of the frugal supper.
+
+"My God!--yes!" exclaimed Adolphus, stopping short, and looking at the
+man.
+
+It was a sort of sympathy that could not harm the person on whom it was
+bestowed.
+
+"I consider myself well off to-night," said he, quietly. "It is your
+little daughter that works in the garden so much? I have often watched
+her."
+
+"Yes," said Adolphus, almost with a sob.
+
+"And you are the man whose music has been so cheering many a time?"
+
+"I want to know what airs you like best," said the poor Drummer,
+hurriedly.
+
+"I never heard you play one that I did not like."--Precious praise!
+
+"Then you like music? I can be pretty tolerably severe, Sir, if I make
+up my mind!" said Adolphus, as if addressing his own conscience, to set
+that at rest by this open avowal. "There's no danger of my doing wrong
+by the government. I'd have to pay for you with my life. Yes,--for it
+would be with my liberty. And there's my wife and child. So you
+understand where I am, as I told you before; but, by thunder! you shall
+have all the music you want, and all the flowers; and my little girl
+can sing pretty well,--her mother taught her. And if you're sick, there
+a'n't a better nurse in the hospital than Pauline Montier. There! good
+night!"
+
+Adolphus took up the tray and hurried out of the room,--and forgot to
+fasten the door behind him until he had gone half way down the stairs.
+He came back in haste, and turned the great key with half the blood in
+his body burning in his face,--not merely an evidence of the exertion
+made in that operation, which he endeavored to perform noiselessly. He
+was ashamed of this caging business; but he would have argued you out
+of countenance then and there, had you ventured a word against the
+government,--though, as he said, he was in the dark concerning the
+prisoner's crime.
+
+When he went down stairs he found supper prepared, and Pauline and
+their daughter waiting for him. He sat down in silence, seeking to
+avoid the questioning eyes which turned toward him so expectant and so
+hopeful. Discerning his mood, neither wife nor daughter troubled him
+with questions; at last, of himself, he broke out vehemently,--
+
+"I wouldn't for the world have lost the chance! Laval wasn't the man to
+take care of that gentleman. But he don't say a word against Laval,
+mind you. He spoke about the flowers and the music. Oh, hang it!"
+
+Here, in spite of himself, the Drummer was wholly overcome. He bowed
+his head to the table and broke into violent weeping. Another barrier
+gave way beside. Elizabeth flew to him. He seemed not to heed her, nor
+the sudden cry, "Oh, father!" that escaped her. She sat down by his
+side,--she wept as he was weeping. It was a stormy emotion that raged
+through her heart, when her tears burst forth. She was not weeping for
+pity merely, nor because her father wept. Long before he lifted his
+head, she was erect, and quiet, and hopeful,--but a child no more. She
+was a woman to love, a woman to dare,--fit and ready for the guiding of
+an angel. By-and-by Adolphus said to Pauline,--"If any one else had
+undertaken this job in our place, we should have deserved to be shut
+out of heaven for it. Thinking twice about it! I'm ashamed of myself.
+Why,--why,--he looks like a ghost. But he won't look that way long! We
+aren't here to browbeat a man, and kill him by inches, I take it."
+
+"No, indeed!" said Pauline, as if the bare idea filled her with
+indignation. The three were surely one now.
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+WALDEINSAMKEIT.
+
+  I do not count the hours I spend
+    In wandering by the sea;
+  The forest is my loyal friend,
+    Like God it useth me.
+
+  In plains that room for shadows make
+    Of skirting hills to lie,
+  Bound in by streams which give and take
+    Their colors from the sky,
+
+  Or on the mountain-crest sublime,
+    Or down the oaken glade,
+  Oh, what have I to do with time?
+    For this the day was made.
+
+  Cities of mortals woebegone
+    Fantastic care derides,
+  But in the serious landscape lone
+    Stern benefit abides.
+
+  Sheen will tarnish, honey cloy,
+    And merry is only a mask of sad;
+  But sober on a fund of joy
+    The woods at heart are glad.
+
+  There the great Planter plants
+    Of fruitful worlds the grain,
+  And with a million spells enchants
+    The souls that walk in pain.
+
+  Still on the seeds of all he made
+    The rose of beauty burns;
+  Through times that wear, and forms that fade,
+    Immortal youth returns.
+
+  The black ducks mounting from the lake,
+    The pigeon in the pines,
+  The bittern's boom, a desert make
+    Which no false art refines.
+
+  Down in yon watery nook,
+    Where bearded mists divide,
+  The gray old gods that Chaos knew,
+    The sires of Nature, hide.
+
+  Aloft, in secret veins of air,
+    Blows the sweet breath of song;
+  Ah! few to scale those uplands dare,
+    Though they to all belong.
+
+  See thou bring not to field or stone
+    The fancies found in books;
+  Leave authors' eyes, and fetch your own,
+    To brave the landscape's looks.
+
+  And if, amid this dear delight,
+    My thoughts did home rebound,
+  I should reckon it a slight
+    To the high cheer I found.
+
+  Oblivion here thy wisdom is,
+    Thy thrift the sleep of cares;
+  For a proud idleness like this
+    Crowns all life's mean affairs.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+THE GERMAN POPULAR LEGEND OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS.
+
+
+We doubt whether any popular legend has ever taken deeper root among
+the common people and spread farther in the world than the story of Dr.
+Faustus and his reckless compact with the Evil One. We do not intend to
+compare it, of course, to those ancient traditions which seem to have
+constituted a tie of relationship between the most distant nations in
+times anterior to history. These are mostly of a mythological
+character,--as, for instance, those referring to the existence of
+elementary spirits. Their connection with mankind has, in the earliest
+times, occupied the imagination of the most widely different races. A
+certain analogy we can easily explain by the affinity of human hearts
+and human minds. But when we find that exactly the same tradition is
+reechoed by the mountains of Norway and Sweden in the ballad of "Sir
+Olaf and the Erl-king's Daughter," which the milkmaid of Brittany sings
+in the lay of the "Sieur Nann and the Korigan," and in a language
+radically different from the Norse,--when, here and there, the same
+_forms_ of superstition meet us in the ancient popular poetry of the
+Servians and modern Greeks, which were familiar to the Teutonic and
+Cambrian races of early centuries,--must we not believe in a primeval
+intimate connection between distant nations? are we not compelled to
+acknowledge that there must have existed, in those remote times, means
+of communication unknown to us?
+
+We repeat, however, that, in calling the legend of Dr. Faustus the most
+widely-spread we know of, we cannot allude to these primitive
+traditions, the circulation of which is perfectly mysterious. We speak
+of such popular legends as admit of their origin being traced. Among
+these the Faustus-tradition may be called comparatively new. To us
+Americans, indeed, whose history commences only with the modern history
+of Europe, a period of three hundred years seems quite a respectable
+space of time. But to the Germans and the Scandinavians, from whose
+popular lore the names of Horny Siegfried and Dietric of Berne,
+(Theodoric the Great,) and of Roland, are not yet completely erased, a
+story of the sixteenth century must appear comparatively modern.
+
+The popularity of the legend of Faustus, although of German origin,
+was, almost from its first rise, not confined to German lands. The
+French, Dutch, and English versions of the poor Doctor's adventurous
+life are but very little younger than his German biographies; and it
+was about the same time that he was made the subject of a tragedy by
+Marlowe, one of the most gifted of Shakspeare's dramatic predecessors.
+We are not afraid of erring, when we ascribe the uncommon popularity
+and rapid circulation of this legend principally to its deep and
+intrinsic _moral_ interest. Faustus's time of action was exactly the
+period of the great religious reformation which shook all Europe.
+During the sixteenth century, even the untaught and illiterate classes
+learned to watch more closely over the salvation of their souls than
+when they felt themselves safe beneath the guardianship of the Holy
+Mother Church. And to those who remained under the guidance of the
+latter, the dangers of learning and independent thinking, and of
+meddling with forbidden subjects, were pointed out by the monks with
+two-fold zeal. It cannot, therefore, surprise us, that the life and
+death of a famous contemporary, who for worldly goods and worldly
+wisdom placed his soul at stake, excited a deep and general interest.
+In one feature, indeed, his history bears decidedly the stamp of the
+great moral revolution of the time: we mean its awful end. There are two
+legends of the Middle Ages--and perhaps many more--in which the
+fundamental ideas are the same. The two Saints, Cyprianus, (the "Magico
+Prodigioso" of Calderon,) and Bishop Theophilus, (the hero of Conrad of
+Wuerzburg,) were both tempted by the Devil with worldly goods and
+worldly prosperity, and allured into the pool of sin perhaps deeper
+than Faustus; but repentance and penitence saved them, and secured to
+them finally a place among the saints of the Church. But for Faustus
+there is no compromise; his awful compact is binding; and whatever hope
+of his salvation modern poetry has excited for the unfortunate Doctor
+is, to say the least, in direct contradiction of the popular legend.
+
+Faustus was the Cagliostro of the sixteenth century. It is not an easy
+task to find the few grains of historical truth referring to him, among
+the chaff of popular fiction that several centuries have accumulated
+around his name. A halo so mysterious and miraculous surrounds his
+person, that not only have various other famous individuals, who lived
+long before or after him, been completely amalgamated with him, but
+even his real existence has been denied, and not much over a hundred
+years after his death he was declared by scholars to be a mere myth. A
+certain J.C. Duerr attempted to prove, in a learned "Dissertatio
+Epistolica de Johanne Fausto," (printed at Altorf, in 1676,) that the
+magician of that name had never existed, and that all the strange
+things which had been related of him referred to the printer John
+Faust, or Fust,--who had, indeed, been confounded with him before,
+although he lived nearly a century earlier. And when we think of the
+superstitious fear and monkish prejudice with which the great invention
+of printing was at first regarded, such a confusion of two persons of
+similar name, and both, in the eyes of a dark age, servants of Satan,
+cannot surprise us. Our John Faustus was also sometimes confounded with
+two younger contemporaries, one of whom was called Faustus Socinus, and
+made Poland the chief theatre of his operations; the other, George
+Sabellicus, expressly named himself Faustus Junior, also Faustus Minor.
+Both were celebrated necromancers and astrologers, who probably availed
+themselves of the advantage derived from the adoption of the famous
+name of Faustus.[1]
+
+A second attempt to prove the historical nonentity of Dr. Faustus was
+made at Wittenberg, in the year 1683. Some of his popular biographers
+had claimed for him a professorship at that celebrated university, or
+at least brought him into connection with it,--a pretension which the
+actual professors of that learned institution thought rather
+prejudicial to their honor, and which they were desirous of seeing
+refuted. Stimulated, as it would seem, by a zeal of this kind, J.G.
+Neumann wrote a "Dissertatio de Fausto Praestigiatore," in which he not
+only tried to prove that Dr. Faustus had never been at Wittenberg, but
+pronounced his whole story fabulous. An attempt like this would not
+surprise us in our own time, the age of historical skepticism; but the
+seventeenth century gave credit to narratives having much slighter
+foundation. Although this dissertation was full of historical mistakes
+and erroneous statements, it made some sensation, as is proved by its
+four successive editions. It was also translated into German. All
+Neumann's endeavors, however, could not stand against the testimony of
+contemporaries, who partly had known Faustus personally, partly had
+heard of him from living witnesses, and allude to his death as an
+occurrence of recent date.
+
+John Faustus, or rather, after the German form of his name, Faust, was
+born in the last quarter of the fifteenth century, probably not before
+the year 1490. According to the oldest "Volksbuch" (People's Book)
+which bears his name,[2] his parents then lived at Roda, in the present
+Duchy of Saxe-Weimar. The same place is likewise named as his native
+village by G.R. Widmann, his first regular biographer, who says that
+his father was a peasant.[3] Although these two works are the
+foundation of the great number of later ones referring to the same
+subject, some of these latter deviate with respect to Faustus's
+birthplace. J.N. Pfitzer, for instance, who, seventy years after
+Widmann, published a revised and much altered edition of his book,
+makes Faust see the light at Saltwedel, a small town belonging then to
+the principality of Anhalt, and must have had his reasons for this
+amendment. A confusion of this kind may, indeed, have early arisen from
+a change of residence of our hero's parents during his infancy. But the
+oldest Volksbuch was written nearly forty years after the death of
+Faustus, and Widmann's work appeared even ten years later,--both,
+indeed, professing to be founded on the Doctor's writings, as well as
+on an autobiographical manuscript, discovered in his library after his
+death. Perhaps, however, the assertion of two of his contemporaries,
+one of whom was personally acquainted with him, is more entitled to
+credit in this respect. Joh. Manlius and Joh. Wier--the latter in his
+biography of Cornelius Agrippa--name Kundlingen, in Wuertemberg, as his
+birthplace.
+
+Manlius, in his work, "Collectanea Locorum Communium," (Basel, 1600,)
+speaks of him as of an acquaintance. He says that Faustus studied at
+Krakow, in Poland, where there was a regular professorship of Magic, as
+was the case at several universities. Others let him make his studies
+at Ingolstadt, and acquire there the honors of a Doctor of Medicine.
+Both these statements may be true, as also that he was for some time
+the companion and pupil of Cornelius Agrippa, of Nettesheim, the
+celebrated scholar, whose learning and mysterious researches after the
+philosopher's stone brought him, like many other wise men of the age,
+into suspicion of witchcraft. Agrippa had a pet dog, black, like the
+mystical companion of Dr. Faustus, and, in the eyes of a superstitious
+multitude, like him, the representative of the Evil One. Black dogs
+seem to have been everywhere considered as rather suspicious creatures.
+The Pope Sylvester II. had also a favorite black poodle, in whom the
+Devil was supposed to have taken up his abode. According to Wier,
+however, Agrippa's black dog was quite a harmless beast, and remarkable
+only for the childlike attachment which the great philosopher had for
+him. It may be worth remarking, that this writer, although he speaks of
+Faustus in his biography of Agrippa, makes no mention of his ever
+having been a friend or scholar of the latter.
+
+In several of the old stories of Faustus, we read that he had a cousin
+at Wittenberg, who took him as a boy to his house, brought him up, and
+made him his heir when he died. If this was true, it would be more
+probable that he was a native of Saxony than of Suabia. It is, however,
+more probable that this narrative rests on one of the numerous cases
+found in old writings in general, and above all in the history of
+Faustus, in which the names Wittenberg and Wuertemberg are confounded.
+Our hero's abode at the former place was very probably merely that of a
+traveller; he left there, as we shall soon see, a very unenviable
+reputation. It is true that Saxony was the principal scene of the
+Doctor's achievements; but this very circumstance makes it improbable
+that he was born and brought up there, as it is well known that "a
+prophet hath no honor in his own country."
+
+Faust's studies were not confined to medicine and the physical
+sciences. He was also considered eminent as a philologist and
+philosopher. Physiology, however, with its various branches and
+degenerate offshoots, was the idol of the scholars of that age, and of
+Faustus among the rest. A passionate desire to fathom the mysteries of
+Nature, to dive into the most hidden recesses of moral and physical
+creation, had seized men of real learning, and seduced them into
+mingling absurd astrological and magical fancies with profound and
+scholarlike researches. The deepest thinkers of their time, like
+Nostradamus, Cardan, Cornelius Agrippa, Paracelsus, Thomas Campanella,
+flattered themselves that they could enter, by means of art and
+science, into communion with good or evil spirits, on whose aid they
+depended for obtaining knowledge, fame, wealth, and worldly honors and
+enjoyments. Faustus was one of those whom a passion for inquiry, in
+league with a powerful, sensual nature, led astray. What had been
+originally an honest thirst for knowledge, a deep interest in the
+supernatural, became gradually a morbid craving after the miraculous,
+the pretension of having attained the unattainable, and the attempt to
+represent it by means of vulgar jugglery.
+
+Dr. Faustus seems at first to have settled as a practising physician,
+and at this period of his life Wagner appears as his _famulus_; for we
+never find this _Philister_ among scholars as a companion of the
+travelling Faustus, although his connection with him was apparently
+lasting. According to the popular legend, the Doctor made him his heir,
+and expressly obtained for him Auerhahn, (Heathcock,) a familiar spirit
+in the shape of a monkey. This was a sort of caricature of
+Mephistopheles, who became, through his ludicrous clumsiness, a
+pet-devil of the populace in the puppet-shows, particularly in Holland.
+Widmann calls Wagner _Waiger_; while in all other publications
+referring to him he bears his right name, Christoph Wagner.
+
+What city it was where Faustus lived before the reputation of
+witchcraft made him the subject of so much talk remains unsettled.
+Wittenberg and Ingolstadt are alternately named. Some of his
+biographers relate, that he led a loose and profligate life, and soon
+wasted his cousin's inheritance. Others represent him as a deep,
+secluded student, laying hold of one science after another, and
+unsatisfied by them all, until he found, by means of his physical and
+chemical experiments, the secret path to the supernatural, and, in
+order to reap their full fruits, allied himself with the hellish
+powers. Faustus himself tells us, in his "Mirakel-, Kunst-, und
+Wunder-buch," (or rather, the author of this book makes him tell us,)
+how his intercourse with the Devil commenced almost accidentally and
+against his intentions:--
+
+"I, Doctor Johann Faust, who apply myself to the Free Arts, having read
+many kinds of books from my youth, happened once to light upon a book
+that contained various conjurations of the spirits. Feeling some desire
+to enlarge my ideas on these things, having, indeed, at the beginning,
+small belief that the prescriptions of that book would so soon be
+verified, I tried them only for an experiment. Nevertheless, I became
+aware that a mighty spirit, named Astaroth, presented himself before
+me, and asked me wherefore I had cited him. Then, hurried as I was, I
+did not know how to make up my mind otherwise than to demand that he
+should be serviceable to me in various wishes and desires, which he
+promised _conditionale_, asking to make a compact with me. To do this I
+was at first not inclined; but as I was only provided with a bad
+_circle_, being merely experimenting, I did not dare to bid him
+defiance, but was obliged to yield to the circumstances. I therefore
+made up my mind, inasmuch as he would serve me, and would be bound to
+me a certain number of years. This being settled, this spirit presented
+to me another, named Mochiel, who was commanded to serve me. I asked
+him how quick he was. Answer: 'Like the wind.' 'Thou shalt not serve
+me! get thee back to whence thou camest!' Now came Aniguel; he
+answered, that he was as quick as the bird in the air. 'Thou art still
+too slow,' I replied; 'begone!' At the same moment a third stood before
+me, named Aziel; this one, too, I asked how quick he was. 'Quick as the
+thought of man.' 'Right for me! thee will I keep!' And I accepted him.
+This spirit has served me long, as has been made known by many
+writings."
+
+Whether it was this quick Aziel, or Astaroth himself, who became
+Faustus's travelling-companion under the name of Mephistopheles, or
+whether the prince of the lower regions in person condescended to play
+that part, we do not know; but in all popular stories of the Doctor,
+his servant bears the latter name,--while in the various books in
+which, under the name of _Hoellenzwang_, the system of his magic is
+laid down, he is called Aziel.
+
+In possession of such a power, Faustus soon became tired of his lonely
+study. He craved the world for his theatre. His travels seem in reality
+to have been very extensive, while in the popular stories a magic
+mantle carried him over the whole globe. Conrad Gesner, the great
+physiologist, who speaks of him with some respect as a physician,
+comparing him with Theophrastus Paracelsus, reckons him among the
+_scholastici vagantes_, or _fahrende Schueler_, an order of men already
+considerably in the decline, and grown disreputable at that period. As
+early as the thirteenth century, we find the custom in Germany, of
+young clergymen who did not belong to any monkish order travelling
+through the land to get a living,--here by instructing in schools for a
+certain period,--there by temporarily serving in churches as
+choristers, sacristans, or vicars,--often, too, as clerks and copyists
+to lawyers or other private men. When they could no longer find a
+livelihood at one place, they went to another. Their offices became, in
+course of time, of the most varied and unsuitable order. They were
+generally received and treated with hospitality, and this may have been
+one reason why all kinds of adventurers were ready to join them. Their
+unstable mode of life easily explains their frequenting the society of
+other vagabonds, who traversed the country as jugglers,
+treasure-diggers, quacks, or sorcerers, and that their clerical dignity
+did not prevent their occasionally adopting these professions
+themselves. The Chronicle of Limburg, in speaking of the Diet of
+Frankfurt in 1397, says: "The number of princes, counts, noblemen,
+knights, and esquires, that met there, amounted to five thousand one
+hundred and eighty-two"; adding: "Besides these, there were here four
+hundred and fifty persons more, such as _fahrende Schueler_, wrestlers,
+musicians, jumpers, and trumpeters." The character of the clergy having
+sunk so low, the Church declared itself against the custom, and at
+several German councils theological students were expressly forbidden
+to lead this roving life. It required, however, considerable time for
+the ancient custom to become extinct, and we learn, among others, from
+Conrad Gesner, that it still existed at the time of the Reformation.
+
+The part played by Faustus was at first in some degree respectable, and
+that of a scholar. An old Erfurt Chronicle tells us that he had come to
+that city and obtained permission from the university to deliver a
+course of lectures on Homer. A dark rumor of his magic powers had
+preceded him; the students, therefore, thronged to hear him, and,
+deeply interested, requested him to let them see the heroes of Homer by
+calling them from their graves. Faustus appointed another day for this,
+received the excited youths in a dark chamber, commanded them to be
+perfectly silent, and made the great men of the Greek bard rise up, one
+by one, before their eyes. At length Polyphemus appeared; and the
+one-eyed Cyclops, with his red hair, an iron spear in his hand, and, to
+designate him at once as a cannibal, two bloody human thighs in his
+mouth, looked so hideous, that the spectators were seized with horror
+and disgust, the more so that the wily magician professed to have some
+difficulty in dismissing the monster. Suddenly a violent shake of the
+whole house was felt; the young men were thrown one over another, and
+were seized with terror and dismay. Two of the students insisted upon
+having already felt the teeth of the Cyclops.--This ridiculous story
+was soon known throughout the city, and confirmed the suspicions of the
+Franciscan monks and magistrates, that the learned guest was in league
+with the Evil One. It is said that Faustus had previously offered to
+procure for them the manuscripts of the lost comedies of Terence and
+Plautus, and to leave them for a short time in their hands, to be
+copied,--but that the fathers of the city and of the university
+declined, because they believed this could be done only by sorcery, or
+with the help of Satan. Now they sent to him the Guardian of the
+Convent, Dr. Klinger, in order to convert him and to have masses read
+for him, for the purpose of delivering him from his hellish connection.
+But Faustus opposed, was by the clergy solemnly delivered to the Devil,
+and, in consequence, banished from the city by the magistrates.
+
+We do not know whether it was for similar juggleries, that, when at
+Wittenberg, the Elector John the Steadfast ordered him to be arrested,
+as Manlius relates. He saved himself by flight. Melancthon, in one of
+his letters, mentions having made his acquaintance; the whole tone of
+the allusion, however, expresses contempt.
+
+The character of the miracles he performed soon ceased to have the
+literary tincture of the one related above, and they became mere vulgar
+juggleries and exhibitions of legerdemain, suited to the taste of the
+multitude. Scholars turned their backs on him, and we find him only
+among tipplers and associates of the lowest kind. At one of their
+carousals his half-intoxicated companions asked him for a specimen of
+his witchcraft. He declared himself willing to gratify them in any
+request. They then demanded that he should make a grape-vine full of
+ripe fruit grow out of the table around which they sat. Faustus
+enjoined complete silence, ordered them to take their knives and keep
+themselves in readiness for cutting the fruit, but not to stir before
+he gave them leave. And, behold, before the eyes of the gaping youths,
+while they themselves were enveloped in a magic mist, there arose a
+great vine, with as many bunches of grapes as there were persons in the
+room. Suddenly the obscuring mist dissolved, and each one saw the
+others with their hands at their own noses, ready to cut them off, as
+the promised grapes. But the vine and the magician had disappeared, and
+the disenchanted drunkards were left to their own rage.
+
+The reader will be aware that this is the tale of which Goethe availed
+himself in representing Faustus's visit to Auerbach's cellar at
+Leipzig. Whether it really occurred there is not stated; but that
+Faustus was said to have been at Leipzig, and even in Auerbach's
+cellar, is an historical fact, attested by two pictures still extant at
+this famous old tavern, where many of our curious American travellers
+may have seen them. These pictures, which have been retouched and
+renovated more than once,--last in 1759,--are marked at the top with
+the date 1525. Whether this means the year in which they were painted,
+or that in which Faustus performed the great feat which the scene
+represents, remains uncertain. As it occurred in the beginning of his
+career, upon which we may assume him to have entered somewhere between
+1520 and 1525, the date is quite likely to refer to the time of the
+feat; but, to judge from the costumes and several other signs, the
+pictures cannot have been painted much later. They were evidently made
+expressly for the locality, sloping off on both sides at the top, to
+suit the shape of the vault. The German inscription at the foot of one
+of the pictures indicates that it was written after the Doctor's death,
+which must have occurred between 1540 and 1550; but it is probable that
+these verses were added at a later time, the more so as the traces of
+an older inscription, now no longer legible, may still be discovered.
+One of these curious paintings represents Faustus in company with
+students and musicians sitting around a table covered with dishes and
+bottles. Faustus is lifting his goblet with one hand, and with the
+other beating time on the table to the music. At the bottom we read the
+following verse in barbarous Latin:--
+
+  "Vive. Bibe. Obgregare. Memor Fausti hujus, et hujus
+  Poenae. Aderat claudo haec. Ast erat ampla
+       Gradu. 1525."[4]
+
+The other picture shows us the same jolly party risen from table, and
+all expressing their wonder and astonishment, as Dr. Faustus is just
+riding out of the door on a wine-tub. Beneath it is the following
+inscription in German:--
+
+  "Dr. Faustus zu dieser Frist
+  Aus Auerbach's Keller geritten ist,
+  Auf einem Fass mit Wein geschwind,
+  Welches gesehn manch Mutterkind.
+  Solches durch seine subtilne Kunst hat gethan,
+  Und des Teufels Lohn empfangen davon.
+  1525."[5]
+
+On neither of the two pictures does Mephistopheles appear, unless he is
+meant to be represented in the shape of the black dog. It is not,
+however, Goethe's poodle that meets us here, but a sleek little
+creature with a collar around his neck, looking very much like a wooden
+toy-dog.
+
+Most of the tricks and pranks reported of Dr. Faustus are of the same
+absurd kind, though not all of so harmless a character. According to
+the popular legend, he travelled like a great lord, had the spirits
+pave the highways for him when he rode in the post-coach,--it seems,
+then, that he did not always use his mantle,--and lived in the taverns
+at which he stopped with an unheard-of luxury. On his departure, he
+paid the hosts in a princely manner; but scarcely was he out of sight,
+when the gold in the receiver's hand was changed to straw, or to round
+slices of gilded horn,--a shabby trick indeed, as he could have as much
+money as he liked.
+
+How much we have to believe of all these popular stories we may learn
+from Dr. Phil. Begardi's "Zeyger der Gesundtheyt," (Guide to Health,) a
+book published in 1539, at Worms, at a time when Faustus seems to have
+already disappeared from Germany, after having lost caste there
+completely, and when he was trying his fortune in other countries.
+
+"There is still another famous man," says Begardi, "whose name I would
+rather not mention at all, only that he himself would not wish to
+remain hidden or unknown. For he was roving, _some years ago_, through
+all the different countries, principalities, and kingdoms, and has made
+known his name and his great skill, boasting not only of his medical
+science, but likewise of Chiromancy, Necromancy, Physiognomy, Visions
+in Crystals, and more arts of the kind. And he called himself Faustus,
+a celebrated experienced master, _philosophum philosophorum_, etc. But
+the number of those who have complained to me of having been cheated by
+him is very great. Well, his promises were likewise very great, just
+like those of Thessalus, (in Galen's time,) and his reputation like
+that of Theophrastus; but in deeds he was, I hear, found small and
+deceitful. But in taking and receiving money he was never slow, and was
+off before any one knew it."
+
+Thus we see the historical Faustus, the esteemed scholar, the skilful
+physician, gradually merged in the juggler, the quack, the adventurer,
+and the impostor. The popular legend follows him to foreign countries.
+His magic mantle carries him, in eight days, over the whole world, and
+even into the Infernal regions. He is honorably received at the
+Emperor's court at Innspruck, introduces himself invisibly at Rome,
+into the Vatican, where the Pope and his cardinals are assembled at a
+banquet, snatches away his Holiness's plate and cup from before his
+mouth, and, enraged at his crossing himself, boxes his ears. In the
+puppet-shows he figures mostly at the court of the Duke of Parma. In
+Venice his daring spirit presumed too far. He announced an exhibition
+of a flight to heaven. But Mephistopheles, who had hitherto satisfied
+his most extravagant demands, though often with grumbling, would not
+permit _that_ feat. In the midst of a staring, wondering multitude,
+Faustus rose to a certain height by means of his own Satanic skill,
+acquired in his long intercourse with the Devil. But now the latter
+showed that he was still his master. He suddenly hurled him from on
+high, and he fell half dead upon the ground. The twenty-four years of
+the compact, however, were not yet ended, and he was therefore restored
+to life by the same hellish power.
+
+In a very trite, popular ballad, which we find in "Des Knaben
+Wunderhorn," we see, that, when the travellers came to Jerusalem, the
+Devil declined still another request. Faustus wishes him to make a
+picture of Christ crucified, and to write under it his holy name. But
+the Devil declared that he would rather give him back his signature
+than be obliged to do _such_ a thing, and succeeded in turning the
+Doctor's mind from the subject by showing him, instead, a picture of
+Venus.
+
+Popular imagination seems to have been inexhaustible in stories of this
+kind. But, after the twenty-four years of vile enjoyments, the hour of
+retribution came at last. According to our scanty historical notices,
+Faustus died an unnatural death: he was found dead in his bed, at his
+birthplace, Kundlingen, with his neck twisted. How such a death must
+have confirmed all the superstitious rumors about him the reader will
+easily conceive. But, according to the popular legend, his end was
+still more terrible. He seems to have returned to his own country, and
+scholars, worthy young men, surround him once more, and become much
+attached to him. From this one would suppose him to have been at
+Wittenberg, or Ingoldstadt, or any university city, but, instead of
+this, we find him in a little Saxon village, called Rimlich. The
+twenty-fourth year draws to its close. At last, at the eleventh hour,
+Faustus bethinks himself to repent; but it is too late. His end,
+related in the simple language of the Volksbuch, is truly awful. He
+dismisses his sympathizing friends, bidding them not to be disturbed by
+any noises in the night. At midnight a terrible storm arises; it
+reaches its height amid thunder and lightning. The friends hear a
+fearful shriek. They rise and pray. But when, in the morning, they
+enter his room, they are horror-struck at seeing his limbs scattered
+round, and the walls, against which the fiend had dashed him to pieces,
+covered with his blood. His body was found in the court-yard on a
+dung-hill.
+
+The horror of this end made a peculiarly awful impression on the
+popular mind. During the Thirty Years' War, it once happened that a
+troop of Catholic soldiers broke into a village in Saxony, on the Elbe,
+named Breda. They were just about to plunder one of the principal
+houses, when the judge of the place, who, it seems, was a shrewd man,
+stepped out and told them that this village was the one where Dr.
+Faustus was carried off by the Devil, and that in this very house the
+blood of the Doctor was still to be seen on the walls. The soldiers
+were seized with terror, and left the village.
+
+The story of Faustus's adventurous life and shocking death, with its
+impressive lessons, appears at first to have been kept extant only by
+oral tradition. Nearly forty years passed before it was written down
+and printed. But then, indeed, the book was received with so much
+favor, that not only several new and enlarged editions appeared in a
+short time, but many similar works were published soon after, which,
+though founded on the oldest Volksbuch (of 1588) and Widmann's
+"Histories," were yet abundant in new facts and inventions. And that
+not to the illiterate classes alone was the subject interesting is
+proved by the circumstance that a Latin version of the first Volksbuch
+was advertised, and (probably) appeared. On the title-pages of all
+these books it is expressly stated that they were written as a warning
+to, and for the edification of, Christian readers. In 1712, a book was
+published at Berlin, under the title, "Zauberkuenste und Leben Dr.
+Fausti," (The Magic Arts and Life of Dr. Faust,) as the author of which
+Christoph Wagner was named. Wagner himself became the subject of a
+biographical work.
+
+Of still greater effect was Faustus's history on the stage. Through the
+whole of the seventeenth, as well as the first half of the eighteenth
+century, it remained one of the favorite subjects of puppet-shows,
+popular melodramas, exhibitions of _ombres chinoises_, and pantomimes.
+The more the awful event, with its moral lessons, receded into the
+background of time, the more it lost its serious and impressive
+character, until it became a mere burlesque, and _Hanswurst_ and
+_Casperle_ its principal figures.
+
+The "Historie" had scarcely appeared, when it was translated into
+Dutch, and the later publication of other similar works did not prevent
+the demand for several new editions. These Dutch books were
+illustrated, as were also the _newer_ German ones. Only a little later,
+two French versions were published, one of which was even reprinted at
+Paris as late as 1712.
+
+In Holland, our hero excited no small interest even among the artists.
+There are extant several portraits of Faustus painted by Rembrandt,--
+whether ideal, or copied from older pictures, is not known. Another
+Dutch painter, Christoph von Sichem, represented two scenes from the
+life of the celebrated magician; and of these productions engravings
+still exist. On the one, we see Faustus and Mephistopheles,--the
+latter dressed like a monk, as, according to the popular tales,
+he mostly appeared. On the other, Wagner and Auerhahn, (or Auerhain,)
+--the latter in the shape of a monkey. There is a striking contrast
+between Faustus and Wagner. The first is a well-dressed man, in
+deep meditation; globes and instruments of science surround him;--
+the other the impersonation of vulgarity. Various scenes from
+Faustus's life adorn the walls. Christoph von Sichem was born in
+1580, and flourished at Amsterdam during the first quarter of the
+seventeenth century. These pictures were consequently made when the
+whole interest of the public for Faustus and his companions was still
+fresh.
+
+Some books seem to have been published by Faustus during his
+lifetime,--at least, his biographers allude to them; but it was only
+after his death that the work which gave his name its chief reputation
+became known. This was his peculiar System of Magic, called "Faust's
+Hoellenzwang" (Compulsion of Hell). Wagner, who was said to be his
+heir, published it first under the title of "Dr. Johannis Faust's
+_Magia Celeberrima_, und _Tabula Nigra_, oder _Hoellenzwang_." It
+contained all the different forms of conjuration, as well for the
+citation as for the dismissal of spirits. There are, besides this,
+several other similar works extant, such as his "Schwarzer
+Mohrenstern," "Der schwarze Rabe," the "Mirakel-, Kunst-, und
+Wunder-buch," already mentioned, and several more, containing about the
+same matter, and most of them written in his name. Of all these
+productions only manuscripts are known to remain, although they are all
+professedly copies of printed works. The most singular thing is, that,
+while they are represented as having been published after the
+magician's death, some of them are, nevertheless, marked with dates as
+early as 1509, 1510, and 1511,--and with the names of Lion, (Lyons,)
+London, etc., as the places where they were printed. These
+circumstances make their authenticity very doubtful, even if we allow
+for mistakes made by the copyists.
+
+Although so large a part of Faustus's life was, according to the
+popular legend, spent in Italy, we are not aware that this legend was
+ever current among the Italian people. Some unfortunate attempts have
+been made to engraft the story of Don Giovanni upon this German stock,
+but, as it seems to us, by very arbitrary arguments and conclusions.
+The career of a mere rake, who shuns no means of gratifying his low
+appetites, has little analogy with that of an originally honest
+inquirer, led astray by the want of faith and his sensual nature. The
+only resemblance is in the end. There was at first more apparent
+success in the endeavor to transplant the tale to Spain, where
+Calderon's "Magico Prodigioso" was taken by some critics for a
+representation of it. The foundation of Calderon's drama, as mentioned
+before, is rather the legend of St. Cyprianus. More may be said in
+favor of the radical identity of the stories of Faustus with some
+popular legends of the Poles, referring to a necromancer called
+Twardowski. But Polish scholars will not admit this; at least, they
+object to giving up their great magician, and some attempts have even
+been made from that side to prove that theirs is the original whom the
+Germans appropriated under the name of _Faust_.
+
+The most interesting result of the publication of the Volksbuch
+appeared in England, where it fell, for the first, and in a hundred and
+fifty years the only time, into the hands of a poet. Mr. Collier, in
+his "History of English Dramatic Poetry," says,--"In 1588, a ballad of
+the Life and Death of Dr. Faustus was licensed to be printed"; and
+adds,--"This would, according to the language of the time, have meant
+any composition in verse, even the play," (of Marlowe,) and
+subsequently mentions the same circumstance with reference to "the old
+romance of Dr. Faustus." On this, Mr. A. Dyce (Works of Christopher
+Marlowe, 1850, I. p. xvi., note) remarks,--"When Mr. Collier states
+that the old romance of Faustus was entered into the Stationers' books
+in 1588, (according to a note on Henslowe's Diary, p. 42,) he meant, I
+apprehend, the old _ballad_." If we bear in mind that the first German
+History of Dr. Faustus did not appear before the same year, we should
+also conclude that he must have meant the ballad, as a translation
+could hardly have been made in so short a time. But considering, on the
+other hand, that the tragedy, which cannot have been composed later
+than 1589 or 1590, (as the poet, who was murdered in 1593, wrote
+several pieces after the one in question,) is evidently and without the
+least doubt founded on the Volksbuch, often adopting the very language
+of its English version, we must conclude that a translation of the
+German work was made immediately after its appearance, or possibly even
+from the manuscript,--which Spiess, the German editor, professes to
+have obtained from Spires. Although the word "ballad" was not properly
+employed for prose romances, it may have been thus used in Henslowe's
+Diary by mistake. We are not aware that any _old_ English version of
+this "History of Dr. Faustus" is now extant; that from which Mr. Dyce
+quotes is of 1648. Marlowe's tragedy was first entered in the
+Stationers' books in 1600-1, but brought upon the stage many years
+before. In 1597, it had already been played so often that additions
+were required. Philips, who wrote about fifty years later, remarks,
+that, "of all that Marlowe hath written to the stage, his 'Dr. Faustus'
+has made the greatest noise with its devils and such-like tragical
+sport." In course of time it was "made into a farce, with the Humors of
+Harlequin and Scaramouch," and represented through the whole kingdom,
+like similar compositions, with immense applause.
+
+Marlowe's "Faustus" has been judged rather favorably by modern English
+critics. Mr. Hazlitt calls it, "though an imperfect and unequal
+performance, Marlowe's greatest work." Mr. Hallam remarks,--"There is an
+awful melancholy about Marlowe's Mephistopheles, perhaps more
+impressive than the malignant mirth of that fiend in the renowned work
+of Goethe." Charles Lamb even preferred Marlowe's "Faustus," as a
+whole, to the latter! Mr. Collier calls it "a drama of power, novelty,
+interest, and variety." So, indeed, it is; but all that power,
+interest, novelty, and variety do not belong to Marlowe, but to the
+prose romance, after which he wrote. Indeed, he followed it so
+closely,--as every reader can see for himself, by reading the play in
+Dyce's edition, and comparing it with the notes under the text,--that
+sometimes whole scenes are copied, and even whole speeches, as, for
+instance, that of the Emperor Charles V. The coarse buffoonery, in
+particular, of which the work is full, is retained word for word. Of
+the countless absurdities and prolixities of the Volksbuch, Marlowe
+has, of course, omitted a great deal, and condensed the story to the
+tenth part of its original length; but the fundamental idea, the plot,
+and the characters, belong exclusively to the original. Marlowe's
+poetical merit lies partly in the circumstance that he was the first to
+feel the depth and power of that idea, partly in the thoughts and
+pictures with which some speeches, principally the monologues of
+Faustus himself, are interwoven. The Faustus of Marlowe is the Faust of
+the legend, tired of learning because it is so unproductive, and
+selling his soul, not for knowledge, but for wealth and power. His
+investigating conversations with Mephistopheles, his inquiries, and the
+answers of the latter, are almost as shallow and childish as those in
+the People's Book; and Faustus himself remarks, on the information
+which his companion gives him,--
+
+  "Those slender trifles Wagner could decide;
+  Has Mephistopheles no greater skill?"
+
+This latter, indeed, seems to us, in spite of the admiration of English
+critics, a decided failure. There is in him no trace of either the
+cruel, icy-cold malignity of the fiend of Goethe, or the awful grandeur
+of Milton's Tempter. It cannot be said that Marlowe's Devil seduces
+Faustus. He is almost on the verge of repentance himself; of the two,
+he is decidedly the better Christian. The proposition of the compact
+comes from Faustus himself, and Mephistopheles only accepts it.
+Marlowe's Faustus knows nothing of the feeling of aversion and disgust
+with which Goethe's Faust sees himself bound to his hellish companion;
+he calls him, repeatedly, "sweet Mephistopheles," and declares,--
+
+  "Had I as many souls as there be stars,
+  I'd give them all for Mephistopheles."
+
+Mr. Hallam, in comparing Marlowe's production with Goethe's,
+remarks,--"The fair form of Margaret is wanting." As if this were all
+that was wanting! Margaret belonged, indeed, exclusively to Goethe. But
+Helena, the favorite ideal of beauty of all old writers, is introduced
+in the popular tale, and so, too, in Marlowe. Faustus conjures up her
+spirit at the request of the students. Her beauty is described with
+glowing colors; "it would," says the old romance, "nearly have enflamed
+the students, but that they persuaded themselves she was a spirit,
+which made them lightly passe away such fancies." Not so Faustus;
+although he is already in the twenty-third year of his compact, he
+himself falls in love with the spirit, and keeps her with him until his
+end. In all this, Marlowe follows closely; though he has good taste
+enough to suppress the figure of the little Justus Faustus, who was the
+fruit of this union.
+
+It now only remains to us to consider the way in which modern poets
+have apprehended the idea of the Faust-fable. None of the German dramas
+and operas which the seventeenth century produced, though they never
+failed to draw large audiences, could be compared, in poetical value,
+to Marlowe's tragedy. The German stage of that period was of very low
+standing, and the few poets who wrote for it, as, for instance,
+Lohenstein, preferred foreign subjects,--the more remote in space and
+time, the better. The writers of neither the first nor the second
+Silesian school were exactly the men to appreciate the depth of a
+legend like that of Faustus,--still less the watery poets of the
+beginning of the eighteenth century. Lessing, who, with his sharp,
+sound criticism, and his clear perception of the beautiful, led the way
+to a higher state of things in literature, appears also to have been
+the first to discover the deep meaning buried in the popular farces of
+Faustus. He pronounced it worthy the genius of a Shakspeare, and
+himself attempted to make it the subject of a tragedy. How much it
+occupied his mind we may conclude from the circumstance that he seems
+to have made for it two plans, essentially different from each other.
+We can only regret that they were never executed. Although Lessing was
+not a poetical genius like Goethe, the power and acuteness of his mind
+were so eminent, the force of his critical faculties was so
+penetrating, that his treatment of a subject of so much depth and
+intrinsic poetry would have been of the highest interest. This
+expectation is also justified by the few sketches of single scenes
+which are all that remain of his plans. One of the latter is, indeed,
+also in so far remarkable, as we see from it that Lessing's mind
+inclined to the modern view, according to which Faustus ought to be and
+would be finally saved. One of the devils describes him, before
+temptation, as "a solitary, thinking youth, entirely devoted to
+wisdom,--living, breathing, only for wisdom and knowledge,--renouncing
+every passion but the one for truth,--highly dangerous to thee [Satan]
+and to us all, if he were ever to be a teacher of the people." Satan
+resolves at once to seduce and destroy him. But Faustus's good angel
+has mercy on him. He buries him in a deep sleep, and creates in his
+place a phantom, with which the cheated devils try successfully the
+whole process of temptation and seduction. All this appears to Faustus
+in a dream. He awakes; the Devil discovers his error, and flies with
+shame and fury, and Faustus, thanking Providence for its warning,
+clings to truth and virtue more firmly than ever.
+
+The other plan, to judge from the fragment we possess, is less
+fanciful, and seems to follow more closely the popular tradition,
+according to which the temptations of Faustus were by no means
+external, but lay deep in his individual mind. In one of its
+lightly-sketched scenes, the poet has evidently availed himself of the
+one from the Miracle-Book heretofore mentioned, and, indeed, with a
+great deal of force. Faustus, impatient and annoyed at the slow process
+of human action, desires the quickest servant from hell, and
+successively cites seven spirits. One after another he rejects. The
+arrows of the plague, the wings of the winds, the beams of light, are
+all not quick enough for him. The fifth spirit rises:--
+
+"_Faustus_. How quick art thou?
+
+"_Fifth Spirit_. As quick as the thoughts of men.
+
+"_Faustus_. That is something!--But the thoughts of men are not always
+quick. They are slothful when truth and virtue demand them. Thou canst
+be quick, if thou wilt. But who will warrant me thy being always
+quick?--No, I trust thee as little as I ought to have trusted
+myself.--Ah!--(to the sixth spirit.) Now tell me how quick thou art!
+
+"_Sixth Spirit_. As quick as the vengeance of the Avenger.
+
+"_Faustus_. Of the Avenger? Of what Avenger?
+
+"_Sixth Spirit_. Of the All-powerful, the Terrible, who has kept
+vengeance for himself alone, because vengeance is his delight.
+
+"_Faustus_. Devil, thou blasphemest, for I see thou art
+trembling!--Quick, thou sayest, as the vengeance of----no! he may not
+be named among us! Quick, thou sayest, is his vengeance? Quick? And I
+still live? And I still sin?
+
+"_Sixth Spirit_. That he suffereth thee still to sin is the beginning
+of his vengeance.
+
+"_Faustus_. Oh that a Devil should teach me this!--But no, his
+vengeance is not quick; if thou art no quicker, begone!--(To the
+seventh spirit.) How quick art thou?
+
+"_Seventh Spirit_. Unsatisfiable (_unzuvergnuegender_) mortal! If I,
+too, am not quick enough for thee------
+
+"_Faustus_. Tell me, then, how quick?
+
+"_Seventh Spirit_. No more nor less than the transition from Good to
+Evil.
+
+"_Faustus_. Ha! thou art my devil! Quick as the transition from Good to
+Evil!--Yes, that is quick! Nothing is quicker!--Away from here, ye
+horrors of Orcus! Away!--Quick as the transition from Good to Evil!--I
+have learned how quick that is! I know it!"
+
+Lessing had this fragment printed in the "Literaturbriefe," professedly
+as a specimen of one of the old popular dramas, despised at that time
+by the higher classes, though Lessing remarks,--"How fond was Germany
+once of its Dr. Faustus,--and is so, partly, still!" But even this bold
+reformer of German taste seems not to have had the temerity to come
+forward at once as the author of a conception so entirely contrary to
+the reigning rules and the Frenchified taste by which, at the period of
+the "Literaturbriefe," (1759-1763,) Germany was still subjugated.
+
+We do not know whether some of the young poets who took hold of the
+subject a short time after were instigated by this fragment of
+Lessing's, or whether they were moved by the awakening German Genius,
+who, just at that period, was beginning to return to his national
+sources for the quenching of his thirst. Between 1770 and 1780, Lenz
+and Maler Mueller composed, the former his "Hoellenrichter," the latter
+his dramatized Life of Dr. Faustus. No more appropriate hero could have
+been found for the young "Kraft-Genies" of the "Sturm und Drang
+Periode" (Storm and Stress period) of German literature. Schreiber,
+Soden, Klinger, Schink, followed them, the last-named with several
+productions referring to the subject. In 1786, Goethe communicated to
+the world, for the first time, a fragment of that astonishing dramatic
+poem which has since been acknowledged, by the whole literary public,
+as his masterpiece, and the most remarkable monument of his great
+genius.[6] The whole first part of the tragedy, still under the name of
+a fragment, was not published before 1808. Since then Germany may be
+said to have been inundated by "Fausts" in every possible shape. Dramas
+by Nic. Voigt, K. Schoene, Benkowitz,--operas by Adolph Baeurle, J. von
+Voss, Bernard, (with music by Spohr,)--tales in verse and prose by
+Kamarack, Seybold, Gerle, and L. Bechstein,--and besides these, the
+productions of various anonymous writers, followed close upon each
+other in the course of the next twenty years. Chamisso's tragedy of
+"Faustus," "in one actus," in truth only a fragment, had already
+appeared in the "Musenalmanach" of 1804.
+
+To Goethe the legendary literature of his nation had been familiar from
+his boyhood. Very early in life, and several years before the
+publication of Maler Mueller's spirited drama, his mind was powerfully
+impressed by the Faust-fable, and the greater part of the present
+fragmentary poem was already written and ready for print when Mueller's
+first sketch, under the title, "Situations in the Life of Dr. Faustus,"
+appeared (1776). As the entire poetry of Goethe was more or less
+_autobiographical_,--that is, as all his poetical productions reflect,
+to a certain extent, his own personal sensations, trials, and
+experiences,--he fused himself and his inner life into the mould of
+Faustus, with all his craving for knowledge, his passionate love of
+Nature, his unsatisfied longings and powerful temptations, adhering
+closely in all external action to the popular story, though of course
+in a symbolic spirit Goethe had, as he tells us himself, a happy
+faculty of delivering himself by poetical production, as well of all
+the partly imaginary, partly morbid cares and doubts which troubled his
+mind, as of the real and acute sufferings which tormented him, for a
+certain period, even to agony. Love, doubt, sorrow, passion,
+remorse--all found an egress from his soul into a poem, a novel, a
+parable, a dramatic character, or some other form of poetical
+expression. He felt as if eased of a burden, after having thus given
+his feelings body and shape. Thus his works became his history.
+"Faust," in its two parts, is the production of his lifetime. Conceived
+in early youth, worked out in manhood, completed in old age, it became
+a vehicle for all the various commotions of his existence. There is no
+other poem which contains such a diversity of thought and feeling, such
+a variety of sentences, pictures, scenes, and situations. For enlarging
+on the poetical value of this incomparable work this is not the place.
+Closely as Goethe has followed up the popular legend, it is
+emphatically and entirely his own production, because it contains his
+complete self.
+
+Nearly a quarter of a century passed before this extraordinary poem was
+followed by its second part. It is not difficult to trace in this
+continuation, published only after the death of the aged poet, the few
+scenes which may have been composed contemporarily with or soon after
+the first part; but that the whole is conceived and executed in a
+totally different spirit not even the most unconditional admirers of
+Goethe's genius will deny. There is no doubt that he regarded his
+"Faust" only as a beginning, and always contemplated a continuation.
+The _role_ of Dr. Faustus, the popular magician, was only half-played.
+Its most brilliant part, his intercourse with the great of the earth
+and the heroes of the past, had not yet commenced. But as, in the
+course of advancing life, the poet's views and ideas changed, the
+mirror of his soul reflected an altered world to him; and as the second
+part of "Faust" is hardly less an image of himself than the first, it
+is not unnatural that it is as different from the latter as the Goethe
+the septuagenarian was from Goethe the youth.
+
+Meanwhile the _literati_ of Germany became exceedingly impatient for
+the promised second part; and when the master lingered, and did not
+himself come forth with the solution of the mystery, the disciples
+attempted to supply him as well as they could. C.C.L. Schoene and J.D.
+Hoffmann had both the requisite courage for such an undertaking; and
+the first even sent his production, with perfect _naivete_, to the
+great master, as the second part of his own work. C. Rosenkranz and
+Gustav Pfitzer--two very honorable names--also wrote after-plays.
+
+We must confess that we have never felt any desire to see "Faust"
+continued. It ought to have remained a fragment. Its last scene,
+perhaps, surpasses, in sublimity and heart-rending power, anything ever
+written. No light of this world can ever entirely clear up the sacred
+mystery of the Beyond, but that scene gives us a surety for the
+salvation of Margaret, and _hope_ for Faust, to every one who has not
+forgotten the words of the Lord in the second Prologue:--
+
+  "Draw down this spirit from its source,
+  And, _canst thou catch him_, to perdition
+  Carry him with thee in thy course;
+  But stand abashed, if thou must needs confess
+  That a good man, though passion blur his vision,
+  Has of the right way still a consciousness."[7]
+
+By the appearance of the second part of "Faust" the magic spell was
+completely broken. No work of Art of a more chilling, disenchanting
+character was ever produced. For the striking individuality of the
+first part, we have here nothing but abstractions; for its deep poetry,
+symbolism; for its glow and thrilling pathos, a plastic finish, hard
+and cold as marble; for its psychological truth, a bewildering
+mysticism. All the fine thoughts and reflections, and all the abundance
+of poetical passages, scattered like jewels through the thick mist of
+the whole work, cannot compensate for its total want of interest; and
+we doubt whether many readers have ever worked their way through its
+innumerable obscure sayings and mystical allegories without feeling
+something of the truth of Voltaire's remark: "_Tout genre est permis
+hors le genre ennuyeux_."
+
+The impression which the first part of "Faust," the poetical
+masterpiece of German literature, made among foreigners, was, though in
+some instances ultimately powerful, yet on the whole surprisingly slow.
+While the popular legend, in its coarsest shape, had, in its time,
+spread with the rapidity of a running fire through all countries, the
+great German poet's conception of it, two hundred years later, found no
+responding echo in either French or English bosoms. Here and there some
+eccentric genius may have taken it up, as, for instance, Monk Lewis,
+who, in 1816, communicated the fundamental idea to Lord Byron, reading
+and translating it to him _viva voce_, and suggesting to him, in this
+indirect way, the idea of his "Manfred." But even the more profound
+among the few German scholars then extant in England did not understand
+"Faust," and were inclined to condemn it,--as, for instance, Coleridge,
+who, as we see from his "Table-Talk," misconceived the whole idea of
+the poem, and found fault with the execution, because it was different
+from what he fancied he himself would have made of this legend, had he
+taken it in hand. The first English translation was published in the
+same year as the first French version, that is, in 1825; both were
+exceedingly imperfect. Since then several other translations in prose
+and verse have appeared in both languages, especially in
+English,--though the "twenty or thirty metrical ones" of which Mr. C.T.
+Brooks speaks in his preface are probably to be taken as a mere mode of
+speech,--and lately one by this gentleman himself, in our very midst.
+This latter comes, perhaps, as near to perfection as it is possible for
+the reproduction of all idiomatic poetical composition in another
+language to do. All this indicates that the time for the just
+appreciation of German literature in general and of Goethe in
+particular is drawing near at last; that its influence has for some
+time been felt is proved, among other things, by that paraphrastic
+imitation of "Faust," Bailey's "Festus."
+
+That a poem like "Faust" could not at first be generally understood is
+not unnatural. Various interpretations of its seeming riddles have been
+attempted; and if the volumes of German "Goethe-Literature" are
+numerous enough to form a small library, those of the "Faust-
+Literature" may be computed to form the fourth part of it. To
+the English reader we cannot recommend highly enough, for the full
+comprehension of "Faust," the commentary on this poem which Mr. Lewes
+gives in his "Life of Goethe," as perhaps the most excellent portion of
+that excellent work. Goethe himself has given many a hint on his own
+conception, and as to how far it was the reflex of his own soul. "The
+puppet-show-fable of 'Faust,'" he says, "murmured with many voices in
+my soul. I, too, had wandered into every department of knowledge, and
+had returned disgusted, and convinced of the vanity of science. And
+life, too, I had tried under various aspects, and had always come back
+sorrowing and unsatisfied." "Faust's character," he says in another
+place, "at the height to which the modern elaboration (_Ausbildung_) of
+the old, crude, popular tale has raised it, represents a man, who,
+feeling impatient and uncomfortable within the general limits of earth,
+esteems the possession of the highest knowledge, the enjoyment of the
+fairest worldly goods, inadequate to satisfy his longings even in the
+least degree, a mind which, turning to every side in search of this
+satisfaction, ever recedes into itself with increased unhappiness."--He
+remarks, too, that "the approbation which this poem has met with, far
+and near, may be owing to the rare peculiarity, that it fixes
+permanently the developing process of a human mind, which by everything
+that torments humanity is also pained, by all that troubles it is also
+agitated, by what it condemns is likewise enthralled, and by what it
+desires is also made happy."[8]
+
+If this article were devoted to Goethe's "Faust," instead of the
+popular legend of Faustus, of which the former is only the most eminent
+apprehension, it would be easy to add to these reasons for the
+universal "approbation" which it has won still others, founded on the
+great genius of the poet. This, however, would by far exceed our
+limits.
+
+[Footnote 1: Some regard Sabellicus and Faustus Socinus as one and the
+same person.]
+
+[Footnote 2: _Historie von D. Johann Fausten, aan weltbeschreyten
+Zauberer und Schwarzkuenstler_, etc. Frankfurt a. M. 1588.]
+
+[Footnote 3: _Wahrhaftige Historien von den greulichen und
+abscheulichen Suenden und Lastern, etc., so D. Johannes Faustus, etc.,
+bis an sein schreckliches End hat getrieben, etc._, erklaert durch Georg
+Rudolf Widmann. Hamburg, 1599.]
+
+[Footnote 4: Live, drink, and be merry, remembering this Faust and his
+punishment. It came slowly, but was in ample measure. 1525.]
+
+[Footnote 5: Dr. Faustus on this day From Auerbach's cellar rode away,
+Of a barrel of wine astride, Which many mothers'-children eyed; This
+through his subtle art achieved, And for it the Devil's reward
+received. 1525.]
+
+[Footnote 6: It first appeared in the fourth volume of his Works.
+Leipzig. Goeschen. 1786.]
+
+[Footnote 7: Mr. Brooks's translation.]
+
+[Footnote 8: _Kunst und Alterthum_. B. VI. Heft I., II.]
+
+
+
+MISS WIMPLE'S HOOP.
+
+
+"Believe in God and yourself, and do the best you can."
+
+In Hendrik on the Hudson, fifty miles from New York, there was, winter
+before last, a certain "patent seamless."--
+
+But a hooped skirt with a history, touching and teaching, is no theme
+for flippancy; so, by your leave, I will unwind my story tenderly, and
+with reverential regard for its smooth turns of sequence.
+
+The Wimples, of whom Sally is the last, were among the oldest and most
+respectable of Hendrik families. Sally's father, Mr. Paul Wimple, had
+been a publisher in good standing, and formerly did a flourishing
+business in New York; but seven years ago he failed, and so, quite
+penniless, his health sadly broken, his cheerfulness and energy all
+gone with his fortunes, without heart for any new beginning, he
+returned to Hendrik, his native place.
+
+There, the friends of his youth, steadfast and generous, pitying his
+sad plight, and having perfect faith in his unimpeached integrity,
+purchased--principally at the sale in bankruptcy of his own effects--a
+modest stock of new and second-hand books and magazines, together with
+some stationery and a few fancy articles in that line, and
+reestablished him in the humble but peaceful calling of a country
+bookseller. They called his shop "The Hendrik Athenaeum and Circulating
+Library," and all the county subscribed; for, at first, the Wimples
+were the fashionable charity, "the Wimples were always so very
+respectable, you know," and Sally was such a sweet girl that really it
+was quite an interesting case. Mrs. Splurge forthwith began improving
+the minds of her girls to the extent of three full annual subscriptions
+for Josephine, Adelaide, and Madeline respectively; and that triplet of
+fair students, who, separately or conjointly, were at all times
+competent to the establishment of a precedent for the graceful
+charities of Hendrik good society, handsomely led off with a ten-dollar
+investment in "fountain" pens, "cream-laid assembly note,"
+motto-wafers, Blessington envelopes "with crest and initial," ivory
+tablets, pencil-sharpeners, and ink-erasers.
+
+But all their munificence came to nought. Mr. Paul Wimple's heart was
+broken,--as they say of any weary Sysiphus who lies down by his stone
+and sleeps forever;--so he died.
+
+Poor little Sally! The first thing she did was to disappoint her
+friends, and shock the decencies of Hendrik; for it had been agreed on
+all sides that "the poor dear thing would take on dreadfully, or else
+fret herself into fits, or perhaps fall into one of them clay-cold,
+corpsy swoons, like old Miss Dunks has regular every 'revival.'" But
+when they came, with all their tedious commonplaces of a stupid
+condolence not wholly innocent of curiosity, Sally thanked them with
+dry eyes and prudent lips and quiet nerves, and only said she thought
+she should do very well after she had set the house to rights and slept
+awhile. The sewing-circle of that week was a coroner's inquest on
+Sally's character, and "ungrateful," "cold-blooded," "indecent," "worse
+than a hypocrite," were not the hardest epithets in the verdict of the
+jury.
+
+But Sally set the place to rights, and bade her father's old friends to
+the funeral, and buried him with all the money that was in the house,
+neither asking nor accepting aid from any; and with the poor pittance
+that her severe conscience could afford her sorrow she procured some
+cheap material of the doleful sort and went into the most unbecoming of
+"full mourning." When she made her appearance in church,--which she
+did, as usual, the very first Sunday after the funeral,--that plainest
+of bonnets and straitest of black delaines, unadorned save by the
+old-fashioned and dingy lace-cape, descended through many shifts of
+saving from her long-ago-dead-and-gone mother, were so manifestly a
+condescending concession to the conventionalities or superstitions of
+Hendrik, and said so plainly, "This is for your 'decencies,'--it is all
+that I can honestly spare, and more than you should demand,--my life is
+mourning enough,"--that all the congregation bristled at the affront.
+Henceforth Miss Wimple--no longer dear Sally, or even Miss Sally, but
+sharp "Miss Wimple"--had that pew to herself.
+
+Now I believe it was not generally known in Hendrik that Miss Wimple
+had narrowly escaped being a very pretty girl. She was but just in her
+nineteenth year when her father died. Her features were regular, her
+expression lovely, her complexion, before trouble nipped the roses of
+her cheeks, full of the country's freshness. She had tender eyes,
+profoundly overshadowed by long, pensive lashes; in the sweet lines of
+her very delicate mouth a trace of quiet pride was prettily blended
+with thoughtfulness, and a just-forming smile that was always
+melancholy. Her feet were little, and her hands were soft and white;
+nor had toil and sorrow, and the weariness, and indifference to self,
+that come of them, as yet impaired the symmetry of her well-turned
+shape, or the elasticity of her free and graceful carriage. Her
+deportment was frank and self-reliant, and her manners, though
+reserved, far from awkward; her complete presence, indeed, compelled
+consideration and invited confidence.
+
+In her father's lifetime, she had sought, on occasions of unwonted
+cheerfulness, to please him with certain charming tricks of attire; and
+sometimes, with only a white rose-bud gleaming through the braided
+shadows of her hair, lighted herself up as with a star; then, not a
+carping churl, not an envious coquette in Hendrik, but confessed to the
+prettiness of Sally Wimple.
+
+But now there was no longer a grateful life for her white rose-star to
+brighten; so she sat down, in her loneliness and sombre unbecomingness,
+between her forlorn counters with their pitiful shows of stock, and let
+her good looks go by, entertaining only brave thoughts of duty,--till
+she grew pale "and fell into the portion of weeds and outworn faces,"
+so that "how anybody could see the least beauty in that distressing
+Miss Wimple" began to be with many a sincere and almost reasonable
+expression of surprise, instead of a malicious sin against knowledge.
+She waited for customers, but they seldom came,--often, from opening to
+window-barring, not one; for the unwilting little martyr of the Hendrik
+Athenaeum and Circulating Library had made herself a highly
+disapproved-of Miss Wimple by her ungrateful and contumacious behavior
+at her father's death, even if the hard and sharp black lines of that
+scrimped delaine had not sufficed to turn the current of admiration,
+interest, and custom. Besides, the attractions of her slender stock
+were all exhausted. She had not the means of refreshing it with pretty
+novelties and sentimental toys in that line,--with albums and
+valentines, fancy portfolios and pocket-secretaries, pearl paper-knives
+and tortoise-shell cardcases, Chinese puzzles and _papier-mache_
+checker-boards. Nor was the Library replenished "to keep up with the
+current literature of the day"; its last new novel was a superannuated
+dilapidation; not one of its yearly subscribers but had worked through
+the catalogue once and a half.
+
+Since the funeral, and especially since the inauguration of the
+delaine, Mrs. Marmaduke Splurge had been less alive to the necessity of
+improving the minds of her girls; and that virginal ten-dollar
+investment had provided Josephine, Adelaide, and Madeline with supplies
+of small arms and ammunition enough for a protracted campaign of
+epistolary belligerence, interrupted by hair-strokes of coquettish
+diplomacy.
+
+In the flaunting yellow house on the hill the widow and daughters of
+the late Marmaduke Splurge, Esq., railroad-director and real-estate
+broker, fondled and hated each other. Mrs. Marmaduke was a
+well-preserved woman, stylish, worldly-minded, and weak. Miss
+Josephine, her eldest, was handsome, patronizing, _passee_, and a
+sentimental fool; Miss Adelaide, who came next, was handsome,
+eccentric, malicious, and sly; and Miss Madeline, the youngest, was
+handsome, distinguished-looking, intellectual, passionate, and proud.
+
+Mrs. Marmaduke's heart was set on marrying her daughters
+"advantageously," and she gave all of her narrow mind to that thankless
+department. Josephine insisted on a romantic attachment, and pursued a
+visionary spouse with all the ardor and obstinacy of first-rate
+stupidity. Adelaide had the weakness to hate Josephine, the shrewdness
+to fear Madeline, and the viciousness to despise her mother; she
+skilfully and diligently devoted herself to the thwarting of the
+family. Madeline waited, only waited,--with a fierceness so dangerously
+still that it looked like patience,--hated her insulting bondage, but
+waited, like Samson between the pillars upon which the house of Dagon
+stood, resolved to free herself, though she dragged down the edifice
+and were crushed among the wreck.
+
+Mrs. Marmaduke talked tediously of the trials and responsibilities of
+conscientious mothers who have grown-up daughters to provide for, was
+given to frequent freshets of tears, consumed many "nervous pills" of
+the retired-clergyman-whose-sands-of-life-have-nearly-run-out sort, and
+netted bead purses for the Select Home for Poor Gentlemen's Daughters.
+Josephine let down her back hair dowdily, partook recklessly of poetry
+and pickles, read inordinately in bed,--leaning all night on her
+elbow,--and was threatened with spinal curvature and spiritualism.
+Adelaide set invisible little traps in every nook and cranny, every
+cupboard and drawer, from basement to attic, and with a cheerful,
+innocent smile sat watching them night and day. Madeline, fiercely
+calm, warned off the others, with pale lips and flashing eyes and
+bitter tongue, resenting _en famille_ the devilish endearments she so
+sweetly suffered in company; but ever as she groped about in her soul's
+blindness she felt for the central props of that house of Dagon.
+
+All the good society of Hendrik said the Splurges were a charming
+family, a most attached and happy family, lovely in their lives and in
+death not to be divided, and that they looked sweetly in hoops. And yet
+the Splurges had but few visitors; the young women of the neighborhood,
+when they called there, left always an essential part of their true
+selves behind them as they entered, and an ornamental part of their
+reputations when they took their departure; nor were the young men
+partial to the name,--for Josephine bored them, and Adelaide taunted
+them, and Madeline snubbed them, and Mrs. Marmaduke pumped them, and
+the combined family confounded them. Only Mr. Philip Withers was the
+intimate and encouraged _habitue_ of the house.
+
+Mr. Philip Withers was the very man for the looser principles of
+Hendrik,--a fine gentleman's fine son, and his only one, who, by the
+death of his father, had come, whilst he was yet very young, into a
+pretty property in the neighborhood,--a sort of idyllic man of the
+world, with considerable cleverness, a neat miscellaneous education,
+handsome person, effective clothes, plausible address, mischievous
+brilliancy of versatile talk, a deep voice, two or three
+accomplishments best adapted to the atmosphere of sentimental women,
+graceful self-possession, small feet, nice hands, striking attitudes, a
+subduing smile, magnetic whisper, Machiavellian tact, and French
+morals. He could sing you into tears, and dance you into love, and talk
+you into wonder; when he drew, you begged for his portrait by himself,
+and when he wrote, you solicited his autograph.
+
+Mr. Philip Withers had taken his moustache to foreign parts, and done
+the Continent sophisticatedly. He was well-read in cities, and had
+brought home a budget of light, popular, and profusely illustrated
+articles of talk on an equivocal variety of urban life, which he
+prettily distributed among clovery pastorals, Wordsworthian ballads, De
+Coverly entertainments, Crayon sketches, and Sparrowgrass Papers, for
+the benefit of his country subscribers. From all of which you have no
+doubt gathered by this time that Mr. Philip Withers was a graceful
+scamp, and a friend of the Splurges,--who had money, which Mr. Philip
+Withers had not; for he had been a munificent patron of elegant
+pleasures abroad, and since his return had erected an addition to his
+father's house in the shape of a pair of handsome mortgages, as a
+proprietor of romantic tastes in architecture might flank his front
+door with mediaeval donjons.
+
+Mrs. Marmaduke made much of that good-looking and delightful Withers.
+Though not a pious man, in the formal sense of the term, she felt sure
+he was religious according to that stained-glass and fragrant religion
+of the tastes which is an essential attribute of every gentleman,--that
+is, of every well-born man of cultivated preferences and sensitive
+antipathies,--and she had no doubt that gentlemen's souls could be
+saved by that arrangement just as satisfactorily, and so much more
+gracefully. She only wished, my dear, you could hear Mr. Withers
+express himself on those subjects,--his ideas were so delightfully
+"your deal, my love"--clear, his illustrations so sweetly pretty, and
+his manner so earnest; really, he stirred her like--"hearts, did you
+say?--a trump."
+
+Josephine Splurge contented herself with letting down her back hair for
+Mr. Withers and making eyes at him.
+
+"Good-morrow to the guileless Genevieve!"--Withers delighted in
+dispensing equivocal nothings to the dowdy Muse of the sofa and back
+hair.--"Charming weather!"
+
+"There, you bewildering Joseph Surface, you need not go on,--I know
+what you are going to say, and I will neither be flattered nor
+fascinated. Come, confess now, like a dear candid creature, throw off
+your irresistibly bewitching mask, and own that your sentiments are all
+rhetoric."
+
+"Josy, dear," Adelaide would insinuate, "what a wonderful memory you
+have!--so well managed, too! Now whom _did_ you hear say that?"
+
+Josephine was wont to declare that the Admirable Crichton lived again
+in that kaleidoscopic creature; but he was so dazzling, so bewildering,
+so dangerous, that to converse with him was like having fireworks in
+one's boudoir.
+
+With Madeline Withers was on strange terms, if any terms at all. She
+threatened to him in the middle of his best stories, smiled quietly
+when he preached, yawned to his poetical recitations, left the room
+when he sang, mistook the subjects of his sketches with a
+verisimilitude of innocence that often deceived even himself, was
+silent and sneered much whenever he was present. And all these
+rudenesses she performed with a successful air of genuine abstraction;
+they never failed of their intention by being overdone, or by being too
+_directly_ directed at him.
+
+Remarks seldom passed between these two; when they did, Withers spoke
+always first, and Madeline replied briefly and with politeness. And yet
+there were occasions when a sharp-sighted and suspicious observer might
+have detected a strange discomposure in Madeline's conduct in the
+presence of Withers,--when, indeed, she seemed to be laboring under
+irritability, and proneness to singular excitement, which began with
+his entrance and disappeared with his departure. At such times she
+would break her haughty quiet with fierce sallies upon her sisters; but
+Withers stung her back into silence with sharp and telling retorts,--as
+you may have seen a practised beast-tamer in a cage flog an angry
+tigress, when her eyes flashed, and her ears were set back, and she
+unsheathed her horrid claws, and lashed her sides, and growled with all
+the appalling fee-faw-fum of the jungle,--flog her back into her
+corner, with nought more formidable than a lady's riding-whip, dainty,
+slender, and sharp. But Withers administered the chastisement with such
+devilish grace that it was unperceived, save by the quick, shrewd
+Adelaide perhaps, who perceived everything,--but never _saw_, nor ever
+spoke. If you could have beheld the lips and the eyes of Madeline, on
+such occasions, you would have cursed this Philip Withers, or beaten
+him to her feet.
+
+Between Withers and Adelaide the relations were plainer; indeed, before
+the small Splurge set they appeared as avowed lovers. Toward "Addy"
+Withers was all elegant devotion and gracious gallantry, knight-like in
+his chivalric and debonair devoir.
+
+For Withers Addy was, openly, all deference and tenderly wistful
+solicitude, but in secret not all security and exultation. Even while
+it seemed high triumph in her heart's camp, her well-drilled eyes and
+ears were still on guard, and her hidden thoughts lay upon their arms.
+
+Still it wore the aspect of a lyric match, and the hearts of humbler
+Hendrik lovers set it to music.
+
+"For other guests," Withers seemed to say,
+
+  "I wile the hours with tale or song,
+    Or web of fancy, fringed with careless rhyme;
+  But how to find a fitting lay for thee,
+    Who hast the harmonies of every time?"
+
+And Addy _looked_,
+
+  "Thou art to me most like a royal guest,
+    Whose travels bring him to some humble roof,
+  Where simple rustics spread their festal fare,
+    And, blushing, own it is not good enough.
+
+  "Bethink thee, then, whene'er thou com'st to me,
+    From high emprise and noble toil to rest,
+  My thoughts are weak and trivial, matched with thine,
+    But the poor mansion offers thee its best."
+
+So Mrs. Marmaduke exalted her horn and exceedingly magnified her
+manoeuvring office. On the strength of it, she treated herself to
+profuse felicitations and fished among her neighbors for more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+And now I will let you into a secret, which, according to the received
+rules for story-construction, should be barred against you yet a little
+longer. I will fling it wide open at once, instead of holding it ajar
+and admitting you edgewise, as it were, one conjecture at a time.
+
+Miss Wimple had a lover;--she had had him since six months before her
+father died, and the decayed publisher had never guessed of him nor
+Sally confessed him; for the good, thoughtful daughter knew it would
+but complicate the old man's perplexities and cares to no purpose. To
+be sure, his joyful consent was certain; but so long as he lived, "the
+thing was not to be thought of," she said, and it was not wise to plant
+in his mind a wish with which her duty could not accord. So Sally's
+lover was hushed up,--hidden in discretion as in a closet.
+
+Simon Blount was his name, and he was a young farmer of five hundred
+acres in first-rate cultivation, with barns, stables, and offices in
+complete repair,--a well-stocked, well-watered place, with "all the
+modern improvements," and convenient to the Hendrik branch of the New
+York and Bunker Hill railroad.
+
+The young man had inherited this very neat property from his father,--a
+thriving, intelligent farmer of the best class, Mr. Wimple's oldest
+friend, his playmate in boyhood, and his crony when he died. Simon's
+mother and Sally's had likewise been schoolmates, and intimates to the
+last, fondly attached to each other, and mutually confiding in each
+other's love and truth in times of pain and trouble.
+
+But Mr. Blount and Mrs. Wimple had been dead these ten years;--they
+died in the same month. Simon and Sally were children when that
+happened, and since then they had grown up together in the closest
+family intimacy, interrupted only by Sally's winter schooling in New
+York, and renewed every summer by her regular seasons at Hendrik.
+
+To the young man and the ripening maiden, then, their love came as
+naturally as violets and clover-blooms, and was as little likely to
+take their parents or the familiar country-folk by surprise.
+
+When Simon took trips to New York, he "stopped" at Mr. Wimple's, and
+Sally's summer home in Hendrik was always "Aunt Phoebe's," as she had
+been taught to call Simon's mother.
+
+You will wonder, then, that Mr. Paul Wimple should have blushed and
+struggled and died in the forlorn little "Athenaeum," and that Sally
+should sit down in her loneliness and "that fright of a delaine" to
+wait for customers that came not, when in their old friends' house were
+comfortable mansions, and in their old friends' hearts tearful kisses
+and welcome free as air. But you must remember that with sudden poverty
+comes, often, shrinking pride, and a degree of suspicion, and high
+scorn of those belittled pensioners who hang upon old ties; that old
+age, when it is sorely beset, is not always patient, clear-sighted, and
+just; that, when the heart of a young girl, in Sally's extremity,
+carries the helpless love that had been clad in purple, and couched in
+eider, and pampered with bonny cats, and served in gold, to Pride, and
+asks, "Stern master, what shall I do with this now?" the answer will
+be, "Strip it of its silken fooleries,--let it lie on the ground, the
+broad bosom of its honest, hearty mother,--teach it the wholesomeness
+of brown bread and cresses, fairly earned, and water from the
+spring,--and let it wait on itself, and wait for the rest!" Once, when
+the talk at the Splurge house descended for a moment from its lofty
+flights to describe a few eccentric mocking circles around the Hendrik
+Athenaeum and Miss Wimple, Madeline said, "If you have sense or
+decency, be silent;--the girl is true and brave, every way better
+taught than we, and prouder than she knows. If we were truly as
+scornful of her as she is indifferent to us, we would let her glorious
+insignificance alone."
+
+So Miss Wimple waited in her shabby little shop and plied her needle
+for hire. Her lover was a handsome fellow, with a bright, frank face,
+and a vigorous, agile, and graceful form; there was more than common
+intellect in his clear, broad brow, overhung with close clusters of
+brown country curls; taste was on his lips and tenderness in his eyes;
+his soul was full of generosity, candor, and fidelity; his every
+movement and attitude denoted native refinement, and in his talk he
+displayed an excellent understanding and remarkable cultivation; for
+his father had bestowed on him superior advantages of education;--"as
+fine a young fellow, Sir," that estimable old Doctor Vandyke would say,
+"as ever you saw."
+
+It was true, Simon's travels had never reached beyond New York; but,
+unlike Mr. Philip Withers, he had brought home solid comforts, useful
+facts, wholesome sentiments, natural manners, and sensible, but modest
+conversation,--instead of an astonishing variety of intellectual
+curiosities and intricate moral toys, whereat plain people
+marvelled--as in the case of a certain ingenious Chinese puzzle, ball
+within ball, all save the last elaborately carved--how the very
+diminutive _plain_ one at the centre ever got in there, or ever could
+be got out.
+
+In another respect the young farmer enjoyed a noticeable advantage over
+the man-of-the-world;--he was quite able to tear down those fancy
+donjon additions, and erect a plain, honest, substantial, very
+comfortable, and very cheerful Yankee porch on their site.
+
+But Miss Wimple said to Simon,--"For a season you will keep aloof from
+this place and from me. I must see you no oftener than it would be
+allowable for an occasional customer of the better sort to drop in; and
+when you do come, state your business--let it always be _business_, or
+pass by--and take your leave, like any indifferent neighbor who came to
+change a book, or purchase a trifle, or engage work. On these terms our
+love must wait, until by my own unaided exertions--without help, mark
+you, Simon, from any man or woman on earth--I have discharged the debt
+of charity that is due to the good people of this place who helped my
+father in his utmost need, and gave him this shop and these things in
+trust. From you, of all men, Simon, I will accept no aid. Play no
+tricks of kindness upon me; nor let your love tempt you to experiment,
+with disguised charity, upon my purpose. You would only find that you
+had failed, and ruined all. The proceeds of this poor shop must belong
+to those whose money procured it, until I shall have paid its price; on
+no pretext shall that fund be touched for other purposes. I will
+sustain myself independently; you know that I ply a nimble needle, and
+that my handiwork will be in esteem among the richer folks of Hendrik.
+And now, dear Simon, let me have my way. You need no more earnest
+assurance of my love than the pains I would take, in this matter, to
+make you respect me more. When my task is done, I will deck myself as
+of old, and again light up the rose-star in my hair, and stand in the
+door and clap my hands to call you hither, and hold you fast; but not
+till then. Let me have my way till then."
+
+And Simon said,--"You are wiser than I, Sally, and braver, and every
+way better. I will obey you in this, and wait,--the more cheerfully
+because I shall be always at hand, and, if your heart should fail you,
+I know you will not refuse my aid, nor prefer another's to mine."
+
+And so they passed for mere acquaintances; and there were some who
+said--Philip Withers among them--that "that plausible Golden Farmer,
+young Blount, had treated the forlorn thing shabbily."
+
+About that time hoops came in, and the Splurge girls flourished the
+first that appeared in Hendrik.
+
+One day, as Miss Wimple sat in a low Yankee rocking-chair, sewing among
+her books, she was favored with the extraordinary apparition of Miss
+Madeline Splurge,--her first visitor that day, whether on business or
+curiosity.
+
+"I wish to procure a small morocco pocket-book, Miss Wimple, if you
+keep such things."
+
+Miss Wimple, with a slight bow of assent, took from a glass
+counter-case a paper box in which was a miscellaneous assortment of
+such articles; there were five or six of the pocket-books. Madeline
+selected one,--a small, flexible affair, of some dark-colored morocco
+lined with pink silk. She paid the trifle the shy, demure little
+librarian demanded, and was taking her leave in silence, without even a
+"Good-day," when, as she was passing the door, Miss Wimple espied on
+the counter, near where her customer had stood, a visiting-card; her
+eye fell on the engraved name,--"Mr. Philip Withers"; of course Miss
+Splurge had dropped it unawares. She hastened with it to the
+door,--Madeline had just stept into the street,--
+
+"This card is yours, I presume, Miss Splurge?"
+
+Madeline turned upon her with a surprised air, inquiringly,--looked in
+her own hands, and shook her handkerchief with the quick, nervous,
+alarmed movement of one who suddenly discovers a very particular
+loss,--became, in an instant, pale as death, stared for a moment at
+Miss Wimple with fixed eyes, and slightly shivered. Then, quickly and
+fiercely, she snatched the card from Miss Wimple's hand,--
+
+"Where--where did you find this? Did--did I leave--drop--?"
+
+"You left it on my counter," Miss Wimple quietly replied, with a
+considerate self-possession that admirably counterfeited
+unconsciousness of Madeline's consternation.
+
+"Come hither, into the shop,--a word with you,"--and Madeline entered
+quickly, and closed the door behind her. For a moment she leaned with
+her elbow on the counter, and pressed her eyes with her fingers.
+
+"Are you ill, Miss Splurge?" Miss Wimple gently inquired.
+
+"No. Did you read what is on this card?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You--you--you read"----Madeline's hands were clenched, her face red
+and distorted; she gnashed her teeth, and seemed choking.
+
+"Why, Miss Splurge, what is the matter with you? Yes, I read the
+name,--Mr. Philip Withers. The card lay on the counter,--I could not
+know it was yours,--I read the name, and immediately brought it to you.
+What excites you so? Sit down, and calm yourself; surely you are ill."
+
+Madeline did not accept the stool Miss Wimple offered her, but,
+availing herself of the pause to assume a forced calmness which left
+her paler than at first, she fixed her flashing eyes steadily on the
+deep, still eyes of her companion, and asked,--
+
+"You did not turn this card, then?--you did not look on the other
+side?"
+
+"On my honor, I did not."
+
+"On your honor! You are not lying, girl?"--Miss Splurge thrust the card
+into the newly-purchased pocket-book, and hid that in her bosom.
+
+"Miss Splurge," said Miss Wimple, very simply, and with no excitement
+of tone or expression, "when you feel sufficiently recovered to appear
+on the street, without exposing yourself there as you have done in
+here, go out!"
+
+And Miss Wimple turned from Madeline and would have resumed her sewing;
+but Madeline cried,--
+
+"Stay, stay, Miss Wimple, I beseech you! I knew not what I said;
+forgive me, ah, forgive me!--for you are merciful, as you are pure and
+true. If you were aware of all, you would know that I could not insult
+you, if I would. Trouble, distraction, have made me coarse,--false,
+too, to myself as unjust and injurious to you; for I know your virtues,
+and believe in them as I believe in little else in this world or the
+next. If in my hour of agony and shame I could implore the help of any
+human being, I would come to you--dear, honest, brave girl!--before all
+others, to fling myself at your feet, and kiss your hands, and beseech
+you to pity me and save me from myself, to hold my hot head on your
+gentle bosom, and your soothing hand on my fierce heart. Good-by!
+Good-by! I need not ask your pardon again,--you have no anger for such
+as I. But if your blessed loneliness is ever disturbed by vulgar,
+chattering visitors, you will not name me to them, or confess that you
+have seen me." And ere Miss Wimple could utter the gentle words that
+were already on her lips, Madeline was gone.
+
+For a while Miss Wimple remained standing on the spot, gazing
+anxiously, but vacantly, toward the door by which the half-mad lady had
+departed,--her soft, deep eyes full of painful apprehension. Then she
+resumed her little rocking-chair, and, as she gathered up her work from
+the floor where she had dropped it, tears trickled down her cheeks; she
+sighed and shook her head, in utter sorrow.
+
+"They were always strange women," she thought, "those Splurges,--not a
+sound heart nor a healthy mind among them. Could their false, barren
+life have maddened this proud Madeline? Else what did she mean by her
+'hot head' and her 'fierce heart'? And what had that Philip Withers to
+do with her trouble and her distraction? She recollected now that Simon
+had once said, in his odd, significant way, that Mr. Withers was a
+charming person to contemplate from a safe distance,--Simon, who never
+lent himself to idle detraction. She remembered, too, that she had
+often reproached herself for her irrational prejudice against the
+man,--that she was forever finding something false and sinister in the
+face that every one else said was eminently handsome, and ugly
+dissonance in the voice that all Hendrik praised for its music. Was he
+on both sides of that card?--Ah, well! it might be just nothing, after
+all; the poor lady might be ill, or vexed past endurance at home; or
+some unhappy love affair might have come to fret her proud, impatient,
+defiant temper. But not Withers,--oh, of course not Withers!--for was
+it not well known that Adelaide was his choice, that his assiduous and
+graceful attentions to her silenced even his loudest enemies, who could
+no longer accuse him of duplicity and disloyalty to women? But she
+would feel less disturbed, and sleep better, perhaps, if she knew that
+Madeline was safe at home, and tranquil again."
+
+Thinking of sleep reminded Miss Wimple that she had a pious task to
+perform before she could betake her to her sweet little cot. A
+superannuated and bedridden woman, who had nursed her mother in her
+last illness, lived on the northern outskirts of the town; and she must
+cross the long covered bridge that spanned the Hendrik River to take a
+basket full of comforting trifles to old Hetty that night.
+
+About nine o'clock Miss Wimple had done her charitable errand, and was
+on her way home again, with a light step and a happy heart, an empty
+basket and old Hetty's abundant blessings. She was alone, but feared
+nothing,--the streets of Hendrik at night were familiar to her and she
+to them; and although her shy and quiet traits were not sufficiently
+understood to make her universally beloved, not a loafing ruffian in
+town but knew her modest face, her odd attire, and her straightforward
+walk; and the rudest respected her.
+
+As she approached the covered bridge, the moon was shining brightly at
+the entrance, making the gloom within profounder. It was a long, wooden
+structure, of a kind common enough on the turnpikes of the Atlantic
+States, where they cross the broader streams. Stout posts and
+cross-beams, and an arch that stretched from end to end, divided the
+bridge into two longitudinal compartments, for travellers going and
+coming respectively; there were small windows on each side, and at
+either end, on a conspicuous signboard, were the Company's
+"Rules,"--"Walk your Horses over this Bridge, or be subject to a Fine
+of not less than Five nor exceeding Twenty Dollars"--"Keep to the
+Right, as the Law directs."
+
+As Miss Wimple entered the shadow of the bridge on the right hand, she
+was startled by hearing excited voices, which seemed to come from the
+other side of the central arch, and about the middle of the bridge,
+where the darkness was deepest:--
+
+"Speak low, I say, or be silent! Some one will be coming presently;--I
+heard steps approaching even now"--Miss Wimple instinctively stopped,
+and stood motionless, almost holding her breath, at the end of the arch
+where the moonlight did not reach. She was no eavesdropper, mark
+you,--the meannesses she scorned included that character in a special
+clause. But she had recognised the voice, and with her own true
+delicacy would spare the speaker the shame of discovery and the dread
+of exposure.--"Speak low, or I will leave you. If you are indifferent
+for yourself, you shall not toss me to the geese of Hendrik."
+
+"You are right";--it was a woman's voice; but, whatever her tone had
+been before, she spoke so low now, and with a voice so hoarse with
+suppressed emotion, so altered by a sort of choking whisper, that Miss
+Wimple, if she had ever heard it before, could not recognize it;--"You
+are right; the time for that has not come;--I could not stay to enjoy
+it;--I am going now, but we will meet again."
+
+"What would you have? I have said I would marry you,--and leave
+you,--so soon as I can shake myself clear of that other stupid
+infatuation."
+
+"Now, Philip Withers, what a weak, pusillanimous wretch you must be,
+having known me so long, and tried my temper so well, to hope to find
+me such a fool, after all,--that kind of fool, I mean! My deepest
+shame, in this unutterably shameful hour, is that I chose such a
+cowardly ass to besot myself with.--There, the subject sickens me, and
+I am going. Dare to follow me, and the geese of Hendrik shall have you.
+I go scot-free, fearing nothing, having nothing to lose; but I hold
+you, my exquisite Joseph Surface--oh, the wit of my sister! oh, the
+wisdom of fools!--by your fine sentiments; and when I want you I shall
+find you. I can take care of me and _mine_; but beware how you dare to
+claim lot or portion in what I choose to call my own, even though your
+brand be on it,--Joseph!"
+
+She hissed the name, and, with hurried steps, and a low, scornful
+laugh, departed. As Miss Wimple, all aghast, leaned forward with quick
+breath and tumultuous heart, and peered through the gloom toward where
+the silver moonlight lay across the further end of the bridge, she saw
+a white dress flash across a bright space and disappear. Then Philip
+Withers stepped forth into the moonlight, stood there for a minute or
+two, and gazed in the direction of a branch road which made off from
+the turnpike close to the bridge, and led, at right angles to it, to
+the railroad station on the right; then slowly, and without once
+looking back, he followed the turnpike to the town.
+
+All astonished, bewildered, full of strange, vague fears, Miss Wimple
+remained in the now awful gloom and stillness of the bridge till he had
+quite disappeared. Then gathering up her wits with an effort, she
+resumed her homeward way. As she emerged from the shadows into the same
+bright place which Withers and his mysterious companion had just
+passed, she spied something dark lying on the ground. She stooped and
+picked it up; it was a small morocco pocket-book lined with pink silk.
+
+Good Heaven! She remembered,--the one she had sold to Miss Madeline
+Splurge that afternoon,--the very same! So, then, that was her voice,
+her dress; she had, indeed, dimly thought of Madeline more than once,
+while that woman was speaking so bitterly,--but had not recognized her
+tones, nor once fancied it might be she. Now she easily recalled her
+words, and understood some of her allusions. And her wild, distracted,
+incoherent speech in the shop, too,--ah! it was all too plain; that was
+surely she; but what might be the nature or degree of her trouble Miss
+Wimple dared not try to guess. This Philip Withers,--was he a villain,
+after all? "Had he--this poor lady--Oh, God forbid! No, no, no!"
+
+She opened the pocket-book;--a visiting-card was all it contained. She
+drew it forth,--"Mr. Philip Withers,"--yes, she knew it by that broken
+corner, as though it had been marked so for a purpose. She held it up
+before her eyes where the moon was brightest, and--turned the other
+side.
+
+"Ah, me!" exclaimed that Chevalier Bayard in shabby, skimped delaine,
+"what was I going to do?"
+
+Blushing, she returned the card to its place, and hiding the
+pocket-book in her honorable bosom, hurried homeward. But her soul was
+troubled as she went; sometimes she sobbed aloud, and more than once
+she stood still and wrung her hands.
+
+"Ah! if Simon Blount would but come now to advise me what is safest and
+best to do!"
+
+Should she go to Mrs. Splurge and tell her all? No,--what right had
+she? That would but precipitate an exposure which might not be
+necessary. The case was not clear enough to justify so officious a
+step. Madeline was in no immediate danger. Perhaps she had only taken a
+different road to avoid the odious companionship of Withers. No doubt
+she was half-way home already. She would wait till morning, for clearer
+judgment and information. Till then she would hope for the best.
+
+When Miss Wimple reached her humble little nest, she knelt beside her
+bed and prayed, tearfully, to the God who averts danger and forgives
+sin; but she did not sleep all night.
+
+In the morning a gossiping neighbor came with the news;--"that little
+cooped-up Wimple never hears anything," she thought.
+
+Miss Madeline Splurge had disappeared. Mr. Philip Withers was searching
+for her high and low. She had not been seen since yesterday
+afternoon,--had not returned home last night. It was feared she had
+drowned herself in the river for spite. She, the knowing neighbor, "had
+always said so,--had always said that Madeline Splurge was a quare
+girl,--sich high and mighty airs, and _sich_ a temper. Now here it was,
+and what would people say,--specially them as had always turned up
+their nose at her opinion?"
+
+Miss Wimple said nothing; but she treated Pity to two poor little
+lies;--one she told, and the other she looked:--She was not well, she
+said, which was the reason why she was so pale; and then she looked
+surprised at the news of Madeline's flitting.
+
+Later in the day another report:--A letter left by Madeline had been
+found at home. She had taken offence at some sharp thing that sarcastic
+Mr. Withers, who always did hate her, had said; and had gone off in a
+miff, without even good-by or a carpet-bag, and taken the night train
+to New York, where she had an uncle on the mother's side.--And a good
+riddance! Now Miss Addy and Mr. Withers would have some peace of their
+time. Such a sweet couple, too!
+
+Madeline _had_ left a note:--"I was sick of you all, and I have escaped
+from you. You will be foolish to take any trouble about it."
+
+[To be continued.]
+
+
+
+
+THE CUP.
+
+
+  The cup I sing is a cup of gold,
+  Many and many a century old,
+  Sculptured fair, and over-filled
+  With wine of a generous vintage, spilled
+  In crystal currents and foaming tides
+  All round its luminous, pictured sides.
+
+  Old Time enamelled and embossed
+  This ancient cup at an infinite cost.
+  Its frame he wrought of metal that run
+  Red from the furnace of the sun.
+  Ages on ages slowly rolled
+  Before the glowing mass was cold,
+  And still he toiled at the antique mould,
+  Turning it fast in his fashioning hand,
+  Tracing circle, layer, and band,
+  Carving figures quaint and strange,
+  Pursuing, through many a wondrous change,
+  The symmetry of a plan divine.
+  At last he poured the lustrous wine,
+  Crowned high the radiant wave with light,
+  And held aloft the goblet bright,
+  Half in shadow, and wreathed in mist
+  Of purple, amber, and amethyst.
+
+  This is the goblet from whose brink
+  All creatures that have life must drink:
+  Foemen and lovers, haughty lord
+  And sallow beggar with lips abhorred.
+  The new-born infant, ere it gain
+  The mother's breast, this wine must drain.
+  The oak with its subtile juice is fed,
+  The rose drinks till her cheeks are red,
+  And the dimpled, dainty violet sips
+  The limpid stream with loving lips.
+  It holds the blood of sun and star,
+  And all pure essences that are:
+  No fruit so high on the heavenly vine,
+  Whose golden hanging clusters shine
+  On the far-off shadowy midnight hills,
+  But some sweet influence it distils
+  That slideth down the silvery rills.
+  Here Wisdom drowned her dangerous thought,
+  The early gods their secrets brought;
+  Beauty, in quivering lines of light,
+  Ripples before the ravished sight;
+  And the unseen mystic spheres combine
+  To charm the cup and drug the wine.
+
+  All day I drink of the wine and deep
+  In its stainless waves my senses steep;
+  All night my peaceful soul lies drowned
+  In hollows of the cup profound;
+  Again each morn I clamber up
+  The emerald crater of the cup,
+  On massive knobs of jasper stand
+  And view the azure ring expand:
+  I watch the foam-wreaths toss and swim
+  In the wine that o'erruns the jewelled rim,
+  Edges of chrysolite emerge,
+  Dawn-tinted, from the misty surge;
+  My thrilled, uncovered front I lave,
+  My eager senses kiss the wave,
+  And drain, with its viewless draught, the lore
+  That warmeth the bosom's secret core,
+  And the fire that maddens the poet's brain
+  With wild sweet ardor and heavenly pain.
+
+
+
+THE LANGUAGE OF THE SEA.
+
+
+Every calling has something of a special dialect. Even where there is,
+one would think, no necessity for it, as in the conversation of
+Sophomores, sporting men, and reporters for the press, a dialect is
+forthwith partly invented, partly suffered to grow, and the sturdy stem
+of original English exhibits a new crop of parasitic weeds which often
+partake of the nature of fungi and betoken the decay of the trunk
+whence they spring.
+
+Is this the case with the language of the sea? Has the sea any
+language? or has each national tongue grafted into it the technology of
+the maritime calling?
+
+The sea has its own laws,--the common and unwritten law of the
+forecastle, of which Admiralty Courts take infrequent cognizance, and
+the law of the quarter-deck, which is to be read in acts of Parliament
+and statutes of Congress. The sea has its own customs, superstitions,
+traditions, architecture, and government; wherefore not its own
+language? We maintain that it has, and that this tongue, which is not
+enumerated by Adelung, which possesses no grammar and barely a lexicon
+of its own, and which is not numbered among the polyglot achievements
+of Mezzofanti or Burritt, has yet a right to its place among the
+world's languages.
+
+Like everything else which is used at sea,--except salt-water,--its
+materials came from shore. As the ship is originally wrought from the
+live-oak forests of Florida and the pine mountains of Norway, the iron
+mines of England, the hemp and flax fields of Russia, so the language
+current upon her deck is the composite gift of all sea-loving peoples.
+But as all these physical elements of construction suffer a sea-change
+on passing into the service of Poseidon, so again the landward phrases
+are metamorphosed by their contact with the main. But no one set of
+them is allowed exclusive predominance. For the ocean is the only true,
+grand, federative commonwealth which has never owned a single master.
+The cloud-compelling Zeus might do as he pleased on land; but far
+beyond the range of outlook from the white watch-tower of Olympus
+rolled the immeasurable waves of the wine-purple deep, acknowledging
+only the Enosigaios Poseidon. Consequently, while Zeus allotted to this
+and that hero and demigod Argos and Mycene and the woody Zacynthus,
+each to each, the ocean remained unbounded and unmeted. Nation after
+nation, race after race, has tried its temporary lordship, but only at
+the pleasure of the sea itself. Sometimes the ensign of sovereignty has
+been an eagle, sometimes a winged lion,--now a black raven, then a
+broom,--to-day St. Andrew's Cross, to-morrow St George's, perhaps the
+next a starry cluster. There is no permanent architecture of the main
+by which to certify the triumphs of these past invaders. Their ruined
+castles are lying "fifty fathom deep,"--Carthaginian galley and Roman
+trireme, the argosy of Spain, the "White Ship" of Fitz Stephen, the
+"Ville de Paris," down to the latest "non-arrival" whispered at
+Lloyd's,--all are gone out of sight into the forgotten silences of the
+green underworld. Upon the land we can trace Roman and Celt, Saxon and
+Norman, by names and places, by minster, keep, and palace. This one
+gave the battlement, that the pinnacle, the other the arch. But the
+fluent surface of the sea takes no such permanent impression. Gone are
+the quaint stern-galleries, gone the high top-gallant fore-castles,
+gone the mighty banks of oars of the olden time. It is only in the
+language that we are able to trace the successive nations in their
+march along the mountain waves; for to that each has from time to time
+given its contribution, and of each it has worn the seeming stamp, till
+some Actium or Lepanto or Cape Trafalgar has compelled its reluctant
+transfer to another's hands.
+
+Or rather, we may say, the language of the sea comes and makes a part,
+as it were, of the speech of many different nations, as the sailor
+abides for a season in Naples, Smyrna, Valparaiso, Canton, and New
+York,--and from each it borrows, as the sailor does, from this a silk
+handkerchief, from that a cap, here a brooch, and there a scrap of
+tattooing, but still remains inhabitant of all and citizen of
+none,--the language of the seas.
+
+What do we mean by this? It is that curious nomenclature which from
+truck to keelson clothes the ship with strange but fitting
+phrases,--which has its proverbs, idioms, and forms of expression that
+are of the sea, salt, and never of the land, earthy. Wherever tidewater
+flows, goes also some portion of this speech. It is "understanded of
+the people" among all truly nautical races. It dominates over their own
+languages, so that the Fin and Mowree, (Maori,) the Lascar and the
+Armorican, meeting on the same deck, find a common tongue whereby to
+carry on the ship's work,--the language in which to "hand, reef, and
+steer."
+
+Whence did it come? From all nautical peoples. Not from the Hebrew
+race. To them the possession of the soil was a fixed idea. The sea
+itself had nothing wherewith to tempt them; they were not adventurers
+or colonizers; they had none of that accommodating temper as to creed,
+customs, and diet, which is the necessary characteristic of the sailor.
+But the nations they expelled from Canaan, the worshippers of the
+fish-tailed Dagon, who fled westward to build Tartessus (Tarshish) on
+the Gaditanian peninsula, or who clung with precarious footing to the
+sea-shore of Philistia and the rocky steeps of Tyre and Sidon,--these
+were seafarers. From them their Greek off-shoots, the Ionian islanders,
+inherited something of the maritime faculty. There are traces in the
+"Odyssey" of a nautical language, of a technology exclusively belonging
+to the world "off soundings," and an exceeding delight in the rush and
+spray-flinging of a vessel's motion,--
+
+  "The purple wave hissed from the bow of the
+  bark in its going."
+
+Hence the Greek is somewhat of a sailor to this day, and in many a
+Mediterranean port lie sharp and smartly-rigged brigantines with
+classic names of old Heathendom gilt in pure Greek type upon their
+sterns.
+
+But the Greek and Carthaginian elements of the ocean language must now
+lie buried very deep in it, and it is hard to recognize their original
+image and superscription in those smooth-worn current coins which form
+the basis of the sea-speech. It is not within the limits of a cursory
+paper like this to enter into too deep an investigation, or to trace
+perhaps a fanciful lineage for such principal words as "mast," and
+"sail," and "rope." In one word, "anchor," the Greek plainly
+survives,--and doubtless many others might be made out by a skilful
+philologist.
+
+The Roman, to whom the empire of the sea, or, more properly speaking,
+the petty principality of the Mediterranean, was transferred, had
+little liking for that sceptre. He was driven to the water by sheer
+necessity, but he never took to it kindly. He was at best a
+sea-soldier, a marine, not brought up from the start in the
+merchant-service and then polished into the complete blue-jacket and
+able seaman of the navy. Nobody can think of those ponderous old
+Romans, whose comedies were all borrowed from Attica, whose poems were
+feeble echoes of the Greek, and whose architecture, art, and domestic
+culture were at best the work of foreign artists,--nobody can think of
+them at sea without a quiet chuckle at the inevitable consequences of
+the first "reef-topsail breeze." Fancy those solemn, stately
+Patricians, whose very puns are ponderous enough to set their galleys a
+streak deeper in the water, fancy them in a brisk sea with a nor'wester
+brewing to windward, watching off the port of Carthage for Admiral
+Hasdrubal and his fleet to come out. They were good hand-to-hand
+fighters,--none better; and so they won their victories, no doubt; but,
+having won them, they dropped sea-going, and made the conquered nations
+transport their corn and troops, while they went back to their
+congenial camps and solemn Senate-debates.
+
+But Italy was not settled by the Roman alone. A black-haired,
+fire-eyed, daring, flexible race had colonized the Sicilian Islands,
+and settled thickly around the Tarentine Gulf, and built their cities
+up the fringes of the Apennines as far as the lovely Bay of Parthenope.
+Greek they were,--by tradition the descendants of those who took
+Troy-town,--Greek they are to this day, as any one may see who will
+linger on the Mole or by the Santa Lucia Stairs at Naples. At Salerno,
+at Amalfi, were cradled those fishing-hamlets which were to nurse
+seamen, and not soldiers. Far up the Adriatic, the storm of Northern
+invasion had forced a fair-haired and violet-eyed folk into the
+fastnesses of the lagoons, to drive their piles and lay their keels
+upon the reedy islets of San Giorgio and San Marco; while on the
+western side an ancient Celtic colony was rising into prominence, and
+rearing at the foot of the Ligurian Alps the palaces of Genoa the
+Proud.
+
+Thus upon the Italian stock was begun the language of the seas. Upon
+the Italian main the words "tack" and "sheet," "prow" and "poop," were
+first heard; and those most important terms by which the law of the
+marine highway is given,--"starboard" and "larboard." For if, after the
+Italian popular method, we contract the words _questo bordo_ (this
+side) and _quello bordo_ (that side) into _sto bordo_ and _lo bordo_,
+we have the roots of our modern phrases. And so the term "port," which
+in naval usage supersedes "larboard," is the abbreviated _porta lo
+timone_, (carry the helm,) which, like the same term in military usage,
+"port arms," seems traditionally to suggest the left hand.
+
+But while the Italian races were beginning their brief but brilliant
+career, there was in training a nobler and hardier race of seamen, from
+whose hands the helm would not so soon be wrested. The pirates of the
+Baltic were wrestling with the storms of the wild Cattegat and braving
+the sleety squalls of the Skager Rack, stretching far out from the land
+to colonize Iceland and the Faroes, to plant a mysteriously lost nation
+in Eastern Greenland, and to leave strange traces of themselves by the
+vine-clad shores of Narraganset Bay. For, first of all nations and
+races to steer boldly into the deep, to abandon the timid fashion of
+the Past, which groped from headland to headland, as boys paddle skiffs
+from wharf to wharf, the Viking met the blast and the wave, and was no
+more the slave, but the lord of the sea. He it was, who, abandoning the
+traditionary rule which loosened canvas only to a wind dead aft or well
+on the quarter, learned to brace up sharp on a wind and to baffle the
+adverse airs. Yet he, too, was overmuch a fighter to make a true
+seaman, and his children no sooner set foot on the shore than they drew
+their swords and went to carving the conquered land into Norman
+lordships. But where they piloted the way others followed, and city
+after city along the German Ocean and upon the British coasts became
+also maritime. For King Alfred had come, and the English oaks were
+felled, and their gnarled boughs found exceedingly convenient for the
+curved knees of ships. Upon the Italian stock became engrafted the
+Norman, and French, and Danish, the North German and Saxon elements.
+And so, after a century of crusading had thoroughly broken up the
+stay-at-home notions of Europe, the maritime spirit blazed up. Spain
+and Portugal now took the lead and were running races against each
+other, the one in the Western, the other in the Eastern seas, and
+flaunting their crowned flags in monopoly of the Indian archipelagos
+and the American tropics. Just across the North Sea, over the low
+sand-dykes of Holland, scarce higher than a ship's bulwarks, looked a
+race whom the spleeny wits of other nations declared to be born
+web-footed. Yet their sails were found in every sea, and, like resolute
+merchants, as they were, they left to others the glory while they did
+the world's carrying. Their impress upon the sea-language was neither
+faint nor slight. They were true marines, and from Manhattan Island to
+utmost Japan, the brown, bright sides, full bows, and bulwarks tumbling
+home of the Dutchman were familiar as the sea-gulls. Underneath their
+clumsy-looking upper-works, the lines were true and sharp; and but the
+other day, when the world's clippers were stooping their lithe
+racehorse-like forms to the seas in the great ocean sweepstakes, the
+fleetest of all was--a Dutchman.
+
+But to combine and fuse all these elements was the work of England. To
+that nation, with its noble inheritance of a composite language,
+incomparably rich in all the nomenclature of natural objects and
+sounds, was given especially the coast department, so to speak, of
+language. Every variety of shore, from shingly beaches to craggy
+headlands, was theirs. While the grand outlines and larger features are
+Italian, such as Cape, Island, Gulf, the minuter belong to the Northern
+races, who are closer observers of Nature's nice differences, and who
+take more delight in a frank, fearless acquaintance and fellowship with
+out-door objects. Beach, sand, headland, foreland, shelf, reef,
+breaker, bar, bank, ledge, shoal, spit, sound, race, reach, are words
+of Northern origin. So, too, the host of local names by which every
+peculiar feature of shore-scenery is individualized,--as, for instance,
+the Needles, the Eddystone, the Three Chimneys, the Hen and Chickens,
+the Bishop and Clerks. The strange atmospheric phenomena, especially of
+the tropics, have been christened by the Spaniard and Portuguese, the
+Corposant, the Pampero, the Tornado, the Hurricane. Then follows a host
+of words of which the derivation is doubtful,--such as sea, mist, foam,
+scud, rack. Their monosyllabic character may only be the result of that
+clipping and trimming which words get on shipboard. Your seaman's
+tongue is a true bed of Procrustes for the unhappy words that roll over
+it. They are docked without mercy, or, now and then, when not properly
+mouth-filling, they are "spliced" with a couple of vowels. It is
+impossible to tell the whys and wherefores of sea-prejudices.
+
+We have now indicated the main sources of the ocean-language. As new
+nations are received into the nautical brotherhood, and as new
+improvements are made, new terms come in. The whole whaling diction is
+the contribution of America, or rather of Nantucket, New Bedford, and
+New London, aided by the islands of the Pacific and the mongrel Spanish
+ports of the South Seas. Here and there an adventurous genius coins a
+phrase for the benefit of posterity,--as we once heard a mate order a
+couple of men to "go forrard and trim the ship's whiskers," to the
+utter bewilderment of his captain, who, in thirty years' following of
+the sea, had never heard the martingale chains and stays so designated.
+But the source of the great body of the sea-language might be marked
+out on the map by a current flowing out of the Straits of Gibraltar and
+meeting a similar tide from the Baltic, the two encountering and
+blending in the North Sea and circling Great Britain, while not
+forgetting to wash the dykes of Holland as they go. How to distinguish
+the work of each, in founding the common tongue, is not here our
+province.
+
+It would be difficult to classify the words in nautical
+use,--impossible here to do more than hint at such a possibility. A
+specimen or two will show the situation of the present tongue, and the
+blending process already gone through with. We need not dip for this so
+far into the tar-bucket as to bother (_nautice_, "galley") the
+landsman. We will take terms familiar to all. The three masts of a ship
+are known as "fore," "main," and "mizzen." Of these, the first is
+English, the second Norman-French, the third Italian (_mezzano_). To go
+from masts to sails, we have "duck" from the Swedish _duk_, and
+"canvas" from the Mediterranean languages,--from the root _canna_, a
+cane or reed,--thence a cloth of reeds or rushes, a mat-sail,--hence
+any sail. Of the ends of a ship, "stern" is from the Saxon _stearn_,
+steering-place; "stem," from the German _stamm_. The whole family of
+ropes--of which, by the way, it is a common saying, that there are but
+three to a ship, namely, _bolt_-rope, _bucket_-rope, and _man_-rope,
+all the rest of the cordage being called by its special name, as
+_tack_, _sheet_, _clew-line_, _bow-line_, _brace_, _shroud_, or
+_stay_--the whole family of ropes are akin only by marriage. "Cable" is
+from the Semitic root _kebel_, to cord, and is the same in all nautical
+uses. "Hawser"--once written _halser_--is from the Baltic stock,--the
+rope used for halsing or hauling along; while "painter," the small rope
+by which a boat is temporarily fastened, is Irish,--from _painter_, a
+snare. "Sheet" is Italian,--from _scotta_; "brace" French, and "stay"
+English. "Clew" is Saxon; "garnet" (from _granato_, a fruit) is
+Italian,--that is, the garnet- or pomegranate-shaped block fastened to
+the clew or corner of the courses, and hence the rope running through
+the block. Then we find in the materials used in stopping leaks the
+same diversity. "Pitch" one easily gets from _pix_ (Latin); "tar" as
+easily from the Saxon _tare_, _tyr_. "Junk," old rope, is from the
+Latin _juncus_, a bulrush,--the material used along the Mediterranean
+shore for calking; "oakum," from the Saxon _oecumbe_, or hemp. The verb
+"calk" may come from the Danish _kalk_, chalk,--to rub over,--or from
+the Italian _calafatare_. The now disused verb "to pay" is from the
+Italian _pagare_;--it survives only in the nautical aphorism, "Here's
+the Devil to _pay_,"--that is, to pitch the ship,--"and no pitch hot."
+In handing the sails, "to loose" is good English,--"to furl" is
+Armorican, and belongs to the Mediterranean class of words. "To rake,"
+which is applied to spars, is from the Saxon _racian_, to incline;--"to
+steeve," which is applied to the bowsprit, and often pronounced
+"stave," is from the Italian _stivare_. When we get below-decks, we
+find "cargo" to be Spanish,--while "ballast" (from _bat_, a boat, and
+_last_, a load) is Saxon. A ship in ballast comes from the Baltic,--a
+vessel and cargo from the Bay of Biscay. Sailors must eat; but there is
+a significant distinction between merchant-seamen and man-o'-war's-men.
+The former is provided for at the "caboose," or "camboose," (Dutch,
+_kombuis_); the latter goes to the "galley," (Italian, _galera_, in
+helmet, primitively). This distinction is fast dying out,--the naval
+term superseding the mercantile,--just as in America the title
+"captain" has usurped the place of the more precise and orthodox term,
+"master," which is now used only in law-papers. The "bowsprit" is a
+compound of English and Dutch. The word "yard" is English; the word
+"boom," Dutch. The word "reef" is Welsh, from _rhevu_, to thicken or
+fold; "tack" and "sheet" are both Italian; "deck" is German. Other
+words are the result of contractions. Few would trace in "dipsey," a
+sounding-lead, the words "deep sea"; or in "futtocks" the combination
+"foot-hooks,"--the name of the connecting-pieces of the floor-timbers
+of a ship. "Breast-hook" has escaped contraction. Sailors have, indeed,
+a passion for metamorphosing words,--especially proper names. Those lie
+a little out of our track; but two instances are too good to be
+omitted:--The "Bellerophon," of the British navy, was always known as
+the "Bully-ruffian," and the "Ville de Milan," a French prize, as the
+"Wheel-'em-along." Here you have a random bestowal of names which seems
+to defy all analysis of the rule of their bestowal.
+
+If the reader inclines to follow up the scent here indicated, we can
+add a hint or two which may be of service. We have shown the sources,
+which should, for purposes of classification, be designated, not as
+English, Italian, Danish, etc., but nautically, as Mediterranean,
+Baltic, or Atlantic. These three heads will serve for general
+classification, to which must be added a fourth or "off-soundings"
+department, into which should go all words suggested by whim or
+accidental resemblances,--such terms as "monkey-rail," "Turk's head,"
+"dead-eye," etc.,--or which get the name of an inventor, as a
+"Matthew-Walker knot." More than that cannot well be given without
+going into the whole detail of naval history, tactics, and science,--a
+thing, of course, impossible here.
+
+This brings us to another view of the subject, which may serve for
+conclusion. A great many people take upon themselves to act for and
+about the sailor, to preach to him, make laws for him, act as his
+counsel, write tracts for him, and generally to look after his moral
+and physical well-being. Now eleven out of every dozen of these are
+continually making themselves ridiculous by an utter ignorance of all
+nautical matters. They pick up a few worn-out phrases of sea-life,
+which have long since left the forecastle, and which have been bandied
+about from one set of landsmen to another, have been dropped by
+sham-sailors begging on fictitious wooden-legs, then by small
+sea-novelists, handed to smaller dramatists for the Wapping class of
+theatres, to be by them abandoned to the smallest writers of pirate and
+privateer tales for the Sunday press. And stringing these together,
+with a hazy apprehension of their meaning, they think they are "talking
+sailor" in great perfection. Now the sailor will talk with pleasure to
+any straightforward and perfectly "green" landsman, and the two will
+converse in an entirely intelligible manner. But confusion worse
+confounded is the result of this ambitious ignorance,--confusion of
+brain to the sailor, and confusion of face to the landsman.
+
+For the sea has a language, beyond a peradventure,--an exceedingly
+arbitrary, technical, and perplexing one, unless it be studied with the
+illustrated grammar of the full-rigged ship before one, with the added
+commentaries of the sea and the sky and the coast chart. To learn to
+speak it requires about as long as to learn to converse passably in
+French, Italian, or Spanish; and unless it be spoken well, it is
+exceedingly absurd to any appreciative listener.
+
+If you desire to study it philologically, after the living manner of
+Dean Trench, it will well repay you. If you desire to use it as a
+familiar vehicle of discourse, wherewith to impress the understanding
+and heart of the sailor, you undertake a very difficult thing. For
+though men are moved best by apt illustrations from the things familiar
+to them, _un_apt illustrations most surely disgust them.
+
+But if you earnestly desire it, we know of but one certain course,
+which is best explained in a brief anecdote. An English gentleman, who
+was in all the agonies of a rough and tedious passage from Folkestone
+to Boulogne, was especially irritated by the aggravating nonchalance of
+a fellow-passenger, who perpetrated all manner of bilious feats, in
+eating, drinking, and smoking, unharmed. English reserve and the agony
+of sea-sickness long contended in Sir John's breast. At last the latter
+conquered, and, leaning from the window of his travelling-carriage,
+which was securely lashed to the forward deck of the steamer, he
+exclaimed,--"I say, d'ye know, I'd give a guinea to know your secret
+for keeping well in this infernal Channel." The traveller solemnly
+extended one hand for the money, and, as it dropped into his palm, with
+the other shaded his mouth, that no portion of the oracle might fall on
+unpaid-for ears, and whispered,--"Hark ye, brother, GO TO SEA TWENTY
+YEARS, AS I HAVE."
+
+
+
+THE WHIRLIGIG OF TIME.
+
+
+"And thus the whirligig of time brings in his revenges."--TWELFTH
+NIGHT.
+
+My friend Jameson, the lawyer, has frequently whiled away an evening in
+relating incidents which occurred in his practice during his residence
+in a Western State. On one occasion he gave a sketch of a criminal
+trial in which he was employed as counsel; the story, as developed in
+court and completed by one of the parties subsequently, made so
+indelible an impression on my mind that I am constrained to write down
+its leading features. At the same time, I must say, that, if I had
+heard it without a voucher for its authenticity, I should have regarded
+it as the most improbable of fictions. But the observing reader will
+remember that remarkable coincidences, and the signal triumph of the
+right, called poetical justice, are sometimes seen in actual life as
+well as in novels.
+
+The tale must begin in Saxony. Carl Proch was an honest farmer, who
+tilled a small tract of crown land and thereby supported his aged
+mother. Faithful to his duties, he had never a thought of discontent,
+but was willing to plod on in the way his father had gone before him.
+Filial affection, however, did not so far engross him as to prevent his
+casting admiring glances on the lovely Katrine, daughter of old
+Rauchen, the miller; and no wonder, for she was as fascinating a damsel
+as ever dazzled and perplexed a bashful lover. She had admiration
+enough, for to see her was to love her; many of the village youngsters
+had looked unutterable things as they met her at May-feasts and
+holidays, but up to this time she had received no poetical epistles nor
+direct proposals, and was as cheerful and heart-free as the birds that
+sang around her windows. Her father was the traditional guardian of
+beauty, surly as the mastiff that watched his sacks of flour and his
+hoard of thalers; and though he doted on his darling Katrine, his heart
+to all the world beside seemed to be only a chip from one of his old
+mill-stones. When Carl thought of the severe gray eyes that shot such
+glances at all lingering youths, the difficulty of winning the pretty
+heiress seemed to be quite enough, even with a field clear of rivals.
+But two other suitors now made advances, more or less openly, and poor
+Carl thought himself entirely overshadowed. One was Schoenfeld, the most
+considerable farmer in the neighborhood, a widower, with hair beginning
+to show threads of silver, and a fierce man withal, who was supposed to
+have once slain a rival, wearing thereafter a seam in his cheek as a
+souvenir of the encounter. The other was Hans Stolzen, a carpenter,
+past thirty, a shrewd, well-to-do fellow, with nearly a thousand
+thalers saved from his earnings. Carl had never fought a duel,--and he
+had not saved so much as a thousand groschen, to say nothing of
+thalers; he had only a manly figure, a cheery, open face, the freshness
+of one-and-twenty, and a heart incapable of guile. Katrine was not long
+in discovering these excellences, and, if his boldness had equalled his
+passion, she would have shown him how little she esteemed the
+pretensions of the proud landholder or the miserly carpenter. But he
+took it for granted that he was a fool to contend against such odds,
+and, buttoning his jacket tightly over his throbbing heart, toiled away
+in his little fields, thinking that the whole world had never contained
+so miserable a man.
+
+Hans Stolzen was the first to propose. He began by paying court to the
+jealous Rauchen himself, set forth his property and prospects, and
+asked to become his son-in-law. The miller heard him, puffed long
+whiffs, and answered civilly, but without committing himself. He was in
+no hurry to part with the only joy he had, and, as Katrine was barely
+eighteen, he naturally thought there would be time enough to consider
+of her marriage hereafter. Hans hardly expected anything more decisive,
+and, as he had not been flatly refused, came frequently to the house
+and chatted with her father, while his eyes followed the vivacious
+Katrine as she tripped about her household duties. But Hans was
+perpetually kept at a distance; the humming-bird would never alight
+upon the outstretched hand. He had not the wit to see that their
+natures had nothing in common, although he did know that Katrine was
+utterly indifferent towards him, and after some months of hopeless
+pursuit he began to grow sullenly angry. He was not long without an
+object on which to vent his rage.
+
+One evening, as Katrine was returning homeward, she chanced to pass
+Carl's cottage. Carl was loitering under a tree hard by, listening to
+the quick footsteps to which his heart kept time. It was the coming of
+Fate to him, for he had made up his mind to tell her of the love that
+was consuming him. Two days before, with tears on his bashful face, he
+had confided all to his mother; and, at her suggestion, he had now
+provided a little present by way of introduction. Katrine smiled
+sweetly as she approached, for, with a woman's quick eye, she had read
+his glances long before. His lips at first rebelled, but he struggled
+out a salutation, and, the ice once broken, he found himself strangely
+unembarrassed. He breathed freely. It seemed to him that their
+relations must have been fixed in some previous state of existence, so
+natural was it to be in familiar and almost affectionate communication
+with the woman whom before he had loved afar off, as a page might sigh
+for a queen.
+
+"Stay, Katrine," he said,--"I had nearly forgotten." He ran hastily
+into the cottage, and soon returned with a covered basket. "See,
+Katrine, these white rabbits!--are they not pretty?"
+
+"Oh, the little pets!" exclaimed Katrine. "Are they yours?"
+
+"No, Katrinchen,--that is, they were mine; now they are yours."
+
+"Thank you, Carl. I shall love them dearly."
+
+"For my sake?"
+
+"For their own, Carl, certainly; for yours also,--a little."
+
+"Good-bye, Bunny," said he, patting the head of one of the rabbits.
+"Love your mistress; and, mind, little whitey, don't keep those long
+ears of yours for nothing; tell me if you ever hear anything about me."
+
+"Perhaps Carl had better come and hear for himself,--don't you think
+so, Bunny?" said Katrine, taking the basket.
+
+The tone and manner said more than the words. Carl's pulses bounded; he
+seized her unresisting hand and covered it with kisses. "So! this is
+the bashful young man!" thought Katrine. "I shall not need to encourage
+him any more, surely."
+
+The night was coming on; Katrine remembered her father, and started
+towards the mill, whose broad arms could scarcely be seen through the
+twilight. Carl accompanied her to the gate, and, after a furtive glance
+upward to the house-windows, bade her farewell, with a kiss, and turned
+homeward, feeling himself a man for the first time in his life.
+
+Frau Proch had seen the pantomime through the flowers that stood on the
+window-sill, not ill-pleased, and was waiting her son's return. An hour
+passed, and he did not come. Another hour, and she began to grow
+anxious. When it was near midnight, she roused her nearest neighbor and
+asked him to go towards the mill and look for Carl. An hour of terrible
+suspense ensued. It was worse than she had even feared. Carl lay by the
+roadside, not far from the mill, insensible, covered with blood,
+moaning feebly at first, and afterwards silent, if not breathless.
+Ghastly wounds covered his head, and his arms and shoulders were livid
+with bruises. The neighboring peasants surrounded the apparently
+lifeless body, and listened with awe to the frenzied imprecations of
+Frau Proch upon the murderer of her son. "May he die in a foreign
+land," said she, lifting her withered hands to Heaven, "without wife to
+nurse him or priest to speak peace to his soul! May his body lie
+unburied, a prey for wolves and vultures! May his inheritance pass into
+the hands of strangers, and his name perish from the earth!" They
+muttered their prayers, as they encountered her bloodshot, but tearless
+eyes, and left her with her son.
+
+For a whole day and night he did not speak; then a violent brain-fever
+set in, and he raved continually. He fancied himself pursued by Hans
+Stolzen, and recoiled as from the blows of his staff. When this was
+reported, suspicion was directed at once to Stolzen as the criminal;
+but before an arrest could be made, it was found that he had fled. His
+disappearance confirmed the belief of his guilt. In truth, it was the
+rejected suitor, who, in a fit of jealous rage, had waylaid his rival
+in the dark, beat him, and left him for dead.
+
+Katrine, who had always disliked Stolzen, especially after he had
+pursued her with his coarse and awkward gallantry, now naturally felt a
+warmer affection for the victim of his brutality. She threw off all
+disguise, and went frequently to Frau Proch's cottage, to aid in
+nursing the invalid during his slow and painful recovery. She had, one
+day, the unspeakable pleasure of catching the first gleam of returning
+sanity in her hapless lover, as she bent over him and with gentle
+fingers smoothed his knotted forehead and temples. An indissoluble tie
+now bound them together; their mutual love was consecrated by suffering
+and sacrifice; and they vowed to be faithful in life and in death.
+
+When Carl at length became strong and commenced labor, he hoped
+speedily to claim his betrothed, and was waiting a favorable
+opportunity to obtain her father's consent to their marriage. The scars
+were the only evidence of the suffering he had endured. No bones had
+been broken, and he was as erect and as vigorous as before the assault.
+But Carl, most unfortunate of men, was not destined so soon to enjoy
+the happiness for which he hoped,--the love that had called him back to
+life. As the robber eagle sits on his cliff, waiting till the hawk has
+seized the ring-dove, then darts down and beats off the captor, that he
+may secure for himself the prize,--so Schoenfeld, not uninformed of what
+was going on, stood ready to pounce upon the suitor who should gain
+Katrine's favor, and sweep the last rival out of the way. An officer in
+the king's service appeared in the village to draw the conscripts for
+the army, and the young men trembled like penned-up sheep at the
+entrance of the blood-stained butcher, not knowing who would be seized
+for the shambles. The officer had apparently been a friend and
+companion of Schoenfeld's in former days, and passed some time at his
+house. It was perhaps only a coincidence, but it struck the neighbors
+as very odd at least, that Carl Proch was the first man drawn for the
+army. He had no money to hire a substitute, and there was no
+alternative; he must serve his three years. This last blow was too much
+for his poor mother. Worn down by her constant assiduity in nursing
+him, and overcome by the sense of utter desolation, she sunk into her
+grave, and was buried on the very day that Carl, with the other
+recruits, was marched off.
+
+What new torture the betrothed Katrine felt is not to be told. Three
+years were to her an eternity; and her imagination called up such
+visions of danger from wounds, privations, and disease, that she parted
+from her lover as though it were forever. The miller found that the
+light and the melody of his house were gone. Katrine was silent and
+sorrowful; her frame wasted and her step grew feeble. To all his offers
+of condolence she made no reply, except to remind him how with tears
+she had besought his interference in Carl's behalf. She would not be
+comforted. The father little knew the feeling she possessed; he had
+thought that her attachment to her rustic lover was only a girlish
+fancy, and that she would speedily forget him; but now her despairing
+look frightened him. To the neighbors, who looked inquisitively as he
+sat by the mill-door, smoking, he complained of the quality of his
+tobacco, vowing that it made his eyes so tender that they watered upon
+the slightest whiff.
+
+For six months Schoenfeld wisely kept away; that period, he thought,
+would be long enough to efface any recollection of the absent soldier.
+Then he presented himself, and, in his usual imperious way, offered his
+hand to Katrine. The miller was inclined to favor his suit. In wealth
+and position Schoenfeld was first in the village; he would be a powerful
+ally, and a very disagreeable enemy. In fact, Rauchen really feared to
+refuse the demand; and he plied his daughter with such argument as he
+could command, hoping to move her to accept the offer. Katrine,
+however, was convinced of the truth of her former suspicion, that Carl
+was a victim of Schoenfeld's craft; and her rejection of his proposal
+was pointed with an indignation which she took no pains to conceal. The
+old scar showed strangely white in his purple face, as he left the
+mill, vowing vengeance for the affront.
+
+Rauchen and his daughter were now more solitary than ever. The father
+had forgotten the roaring stories he used to tell to the neighboring
+peasants, over foaming flagons of ale, at the little inn; he sat at his
+mill-door and smoked incessantly. Katrine shunned the festivities in
+which she was once queen, and her manner, though kindly, was silent and
+reserved; she went to church, it is true, but she wore a look of
+settled sorrow that awed curiosity and even repelled sympathy. But
+scandal is a plant that needs no root in the earth; like the houseleek,
+it can thrive upon air; and those who separate themselves the most
+entirely from the world are apt, for that very reason, to receive the
+larger share of its attention. The village girls looked first with
+pity, then with wonder, and at length with aversion, upon the gentle
+and unfortunate Katrine. Careless as she was with regard to public
+opinion, she saw not without pain the altered looks of her old
+associates, and before long she came to know the cause. A cruel
+suspicion had been whispered about, touching her in a most tender
+point. It was not without reason, so the gossip ran, that she had
+refused so eligible an offer of marriage Schoenfeld's. The story reached
+the ears of Rauchen, at last. With a fierce energy, such as he had
+never exhibited before, he tracked it from cottage to cottage, until he
+came to Schoenfeld's housekeeper, who refused to give her authority. The
+next market-day Rauchen encountered the former suitor and publicly
+charged him with the slander, in such terms as his baseness deserved.
+Schoenfeld, thrown off his guard by the sudden attack, struck his
+adversary a heavy blow; but the miller rushed upon him, and left him to
+be carried home, a bundle of aches and bruises. After this the tongues
+of the gossips were quiet; no one was willing to answer for guesses or
+rumors at the end of Rauchen's staff; and the father and daughter
+resumed their monotonous mode of life.
+
+The three years at length passed, and Carl Proch returned home,--a
+trifle more sedate, perhaps, but the same noble, manly fellow. How
+warmly he was received by the constant Katrine it is not necessary to
+relate. Rauchen was not disposed to thwart his long-suffering daughter
+any further; and with his consent the young couple were speedily
+married, and lived in his house. The gayety of former years came back;
+cheerful songs and merry laughter were heard in the lately silent
+rooms. Rauchen himself grew younger, especially after the birth of a
+grandson, and often resumed his old place at the inn, telling the old
+stories with the old _gusto_ over the ever-welcome ale. But one
+morning, not long after, he was found dead in his bed; a smile was on
+his face, and his limbs were stretched out as in peaceful repose.
+
+There was no longer any tie to bind Carl to his native village. All his
+kin, as well as Katrine's, were in the grave. He was not bred a miller,
+and did not feel competent to manage the mill. Besides, his mind had
+received new ideas while he was in the army. He had heard of countries
+where men were equal before the laws, where the peasant owed no
+allegiance but to society. The germ of liberty had been planted in his
+breast, and he could no longer live contented with the rank in which he
+had been born. At least he wished that his children might grow up free
+from the chilling influences that had fallen upon him. At his earnest
+persuasion, Katrine consented that the mill should be sold, and soon
+after, with his wife and child, he went to Bremen and embarked for
+America.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We must now follow the absconding Stolzen, who, with his bag of
+thalers, had made good his escape into England. He lived in London,
+where he found society among his countrymen. His habitual shrewdness
+never deserted him, and from small beginnings he gradually amassed a
+moderate fortune. His first experiment in proposing for a wife
+satisfied him, but in a great city his sensual nature was fully
+developed. His brutal passions were unchecked; conscience seemed to
+have left him utterly. At length he began to think about quitting
+London. He was afraid to return to Germany, for, as he had left Carl to
+all appearance dead, he thought the officers of the law would seize
+him. He determined to go to Australia, and secured a berth in a clipper
+ship bound for Melbourne, but some accident prevented his reaching the
+pier in season; the vessel sailed without him, and was never heard of
+afterwards. Then he proposed to buy an estate in Canada; but the owner
+failed to make his appearance at the time appointed for the
+negotiation, and the bargain was not completed. At last he took passage
+for New York, whither a Hebrew acquaintance of his had gone, a year or
+two before, and was established as a broker. Upon arriving in that
+city, Stolzen purchased of an agent a tract of land in a Western State,
+situated on the shore of Lake Michigan; and after reserving a sum of
+money for immediate purposes, he deposited his funds with his friend,
+the broker, and started westward. He travelled the usual route by rail,
+then a short distance in a mail-coach, which carried him within six
+miles of his farm. Leaving his luggage to be sent for, he started to
+walk the remaining distance. It was a sultry day, and the prairie road
+was anything but pleasant to a pedestrian unaccustomed to heat and
+dust. After walking less than an hour, he determined to stop at a small
+house near the road, for rest, and some water to quench his thirst; but
+as he approached, the baying hounds, no less than the squalid children
+about the door, repelled him, and he went on to the next house. He now
+turned down a green lane, between rows of thrifty trees, to a neat
+log-cabin, whose nicely-plastered walls and the regular fence inclosing
+it testified to the thrift and good taste of the owner. He knocked; all
+was still. Again, and thirsty as he was, he was on the point of
+leaving, when he heard a step within. He waited; the door opened, and
+before him stood----Katrine!
+
+She did not know him; but he had not forgotten that voluptuous figure
+nor those melting blue eyes. He preferred his requests, looking through
+the doorway at the same time to make sure that she had no protector.
+Katrine brought the stranger a gourd of water, and offered him a chair.
+She did not see the baleful eyes he threw after her as she went about
+her household duties. Stolzen had dropped from her firmament like a
+fallen and forgotten star. Secure in her unsuspecting innocence, she
+chirruped to her baby and resumed her sewing.
+
+That evening, when Carl Proch returned from his field, after his usual
+hard day's labor, he found his wife on the floor, sobbing, speechless,
+and the child, unnoticed, crying in his cradle. His dog sat by the
+hearth with a look of almost intelligent sympathy, and whined as his
+master entered the room. He raised Katrine and held her in his arms
+like a child, covered her face with kisses, and implored her to speak.
+She seemed to be in a fearful dream, and shrunk from some imagined
+danger in the extremest terror. Gradually her sobs became less
+frequent, her tremors ceased, and she smiled upon the manly face that
+met hers, as though she had only suffered from an imaginary fright. But
+when she felt her hair floating upon her shoulders, saw the almost
+speaking face of the dog, Bruno, and became conscious of the cries of
+the neglected child, the wave of agony swept over her again, and she
+could utter only broken ejaculations. As word after word came from her
+lips, the unhappy husband's flesh tingled; his hair stiffened with
+horror; every nerve seemed to be strung with a new and maddening
+tension. There was for him no such thing as fatigue, no distance, no
+danger,--no law, no hereafter, no God. All thought and feeling were
+drowned in one wild desire for vengeance,--vengeance swift, terrible,
+and final.
+
+He first caressed the dog as though he had been a brother; he put his
+arms about the shaggy neck, and shook each faithful paw; he made his
+wife caress him also. "God be praised, dear Katrine, for your
+protector, the dog!" said he. "Come, now, Bruno!"
+
+Katrine saw him depart with his dog and gun; but if she guessed his
+errand, she did not dare remonstrate. He walked off rapidly,--the dog
+in advance, now and then baying as though he were on a trail.
+
+In the night he returned, and he smiled grimly as he set down the rifle
+in its accustomed corner. His wife was waiting for him with intense
+anxiety. It was marvellous to her that he was so cheerful. He trotted
+her upon his knee, pressed her a hundred times to his bosom, kissed her
+forehead, lips, and cheeks, called her his pretty Kate, his dear wife,
+and every endearing name he knew. So they sat, like lovers in their
+teens, till the purpling east told of a new day.
+
+The luggage of one Stolzen, a stagecoach passenger, remained at the
+tavern uncalled-for, for nearly a year. No one knew the man, and his
+disappearance, though a profound mystery, was not an uncommon thing in
+a new country. The Hebrew broker in New York received no answers to his
+letters, though he had carefully preserved the post-office address
+which Stolzen had given him. He began to fear lest he should be obliged
+to fulfil the duty of heirship to the property deposited with him. To
+quiet his natural apprehensions in view of this event, he determined to
+follow Stolzen's track, as much of it as lay in _this_ world, at least,
+and find out what had become of him. Upon arriving in the neighborhood,
+the Jew had a thorough search made. The country was scoured, and on the
+third day there was a discovery. A man walking on the sandy margin of a
+river, about two or three miles from Carl's house, saw a skull before
+him. As the steep bluff nearly overhung the spot where he stood, he
+conjectured that the body to which the skull belonged was to be found
+above on its verge. He climbed up, and there saw a headless skeleton.
+It was the body of Stolzen, as his memorandum-book and other articles
+showed. His pistol was in his pocket, and still loaded; that fact
+precluded the idea of suicide. Moreover, upon examining more closely, a
+bullet-hole was found in his breast-bone, around which the parts were
+broken _outwardly_, showing that the ball must have entered from
+behind. It was clear that Stolzen had been murdered.
+
+The curse of Frau Proch had been most terribly fulfilled.
+
+Circumstances soon pointed to Carl Proch as the perpetrator. A
+stranger, corresponding to the deceased in size and dress, had been
+seen, about the time of his disappearance, by the neighboring family,
+walking towards Proch's house; and on the evening of the same day an
+Irishman met Carl going at a rapid rate, with a gun on his shoulder, as
+though in furious pursuit of some one. A warrant for his arrest was
+issued, and he was lodged in jail to await his trial. If now the Hebrew
+had followed the _lex talionis_, after the manner of his race in
+ancient times, it might have fared badly with poor Carl. But as soon as
+the broker was satisfied beyond a peradventure that the depositor was
+actually dead, he hastened back to New York, joyful as a crow over a
+newly-found carcass, to administer upon the estate, leaving the law to
+take its own course with regard to the murderer.
+
+Beyond the two facts just mentioned as implicating Carl, nothing was
+proved at the trial. Jameson, the lawyer, whom I mentioned at the
+beginning of this story, was engaged for the defence. He found Carl
+singularly uncommunicative; and though the government failed to make
+out a shadow of a case against his client, he was yet puzzled in his
+own mind by Carl's silence, and his real or assumed indifference.
+Katrine was in court with her child in her arms, watching the
+proceedings with the closest attention; though she, as well as Carl,
+was unable to understand any but the most familiar and colloquial
+English. The case was speedily decided; the few facts presented to the
+jury appeared to have no necessary connection, and there was no known
+motive for the deed. The jury unanimously acquitted Carl, and with his
+wife and boy he left the court-room. The verdict was approved by the
+spectators, for no man in the neighborhood was more universally loved
+and respected than Carl Proch.
+
+Having paid Jameson his fee for his services, Carl was about to depart,
+when the lawyer's curiosity could be restrained no longer, and he
+called his client back to the private room of his office.
+
+"Carl," said he, "you look like a good fellow, above anything mean or
+wicked; but yet I don't know what to make of you. Now you are entirely
+through with this scrape; you are acquitted; and I want to know what is
+the meaning of it all. I will keep it secret from all your neighbors.
+Did you kill Stolzen, or not?"
+
+"Well, if I did," he answered, "can they do anything with me?"
+
+"No," said Jameson.
+
+"Not if I acknowledge?"
+
+"No, you have been acquitted by a jury; and by our law a man can never
+be tried twice for the same offence. You are safe, even if you should
+go into court and confess the deed."
+
+"Well, then, I did kill him,--and I would again!"
+
+For the moment, a fierce light gleamed upon the calm and kindly face.
+Then, feeling that his answer would give a false view of the case,
+without the previous history of the parties, Carl sat down and in his
+broken English told to his lawyer the story I have here attempted to
+record. It was impossible to doubt a word of it; for the simplicity and
+pathos of the narrative were above all art. Here was a simple case,
+which the boldest inventor of schemes to punish villany would have been
+afraid to use. Its truth is the thing that most startles the mind
+accustomed to deal with fictions.
+
+We leave Carl to return to his farm with his wife, for whom he had
+suffered so much, and with the hope that no further temptation may come
+to him in such a guise as almost to make murder a virtue.
+
+
+
+THE TELEGRAPH.
+
+  Thou lonely Bay of Trinity,
+    Ye bosky shores untrod,
+  Lean, breathless, to the white-lipped sea
+    And hear the voice of God!
+
+  From world to world His couriers fly,
+    Thought-winged and shod with fire;
+  The angel of His stormy sky
+    Rides down the sunken wire.
+
+  What saith the herald of the Lord?--
+    "The world's long strife is done!
+  Close wedded by that mystic cord,
+    Her continents are one.
+
+  "And one in heart, as one in blood,
+    Shall all her peoples be;
+  The hands of human brotherhood
+    Shall clasp beneath the sea.
+
+  "Through Orient seas, o'er Afric's plain,
+    And Asian mountains borne,
+  The vigor of the Northern brain
+    Shall nerve the world outworn.
+
+  "From clime to clime, from shore to shore,
+    Shall thrill the magic thread;
+  The new Prometheus steals once more
+    The fire that wakes the dead!
+
+  "Earth gray with age shall hear the strain
+    Which o'er her childhood rolled;
+  For her the morning stars again
+    Shall sing their song of old.
+
+  "For, lo! the fall of Ocean's wall,
+    Space mocked, and Time outrun!--
+  And round the world, the thought of all
+    Is as the thought of one!"
+
+  Oh, reverently and thankfully
+    The mighty wonder own!
+  The deaf can hear, the blind may see,
+    The work is God's alone.
+
+  Throb on, strong pulse of thunder! beat
+    From answering beach to beach!
+  Fuse nations in thy kindly heat,
+    And melt the chains of each!
+
+  Wild terror of the sky above,
+    Glide tamed and dumb below!
+  Bear gently, Ocean's carrier-dove,
+    Thy errands to and fro!
+
+  Weave on, swift shuttle of the Lord,
+    Beneath the deep so far,
+  The bridal robe of Earth's accord,
+    The funeral shroud of war!
+
+  The poles unite, the zones agree,
+    The tongues of striving cease;
+  As on the Sea of Galilee,
+    The Christ is whispering, "Peace!"
+
+
+
+THE BIRDS OF THE GARDEN AND ORCHARD.
+
+
+The singing-birds whose notes are familiar to us, in towns and villages
+and the suburbs of the city, are found in the breeding-season only in
+these places, and are strangers to the deep woods and solitary
+pastures. Most of our singing-birds follow in the wake of the pioneer
+of the wilderness, and increase in numbers with the clearing and
+settlement of the country,--not, probably, from any dependence on the
+protection of mankind, but on account of the increased abundance of the
+insect food upon which they subsist, consequent upon the tilling of the
+ground. It is well known that the labors of the husbandman cause an
+excessive multiplication of all those species of insects whose larvae
+are cherished in the soil, and of all that infest the orchard and
+garden. The farm is capable of supporting insects just in proportion to
+its capacity for producing corn and fruit. Insects will multiply with
+their means of subsistence in and upon the earth; and birds, if not
+destroyed by artificial methods, will increase in proportion to the
+multiplication of those insects which constitute their principal food.
+
+These considerations will sufficiently account for the fact, which
+often excites a little astonishment, that more singing-birds are found
+in the suburbs of the city, and among the parks and gardens of the
+city, than in the deep forest, where, even in the singing-season, the
+silence is sometimes melancholy. It is still to be remarked, that the
+species which are thus familiar in their habits do not include all the
+singing-birds, but they include all that are well known to the majority
+of our people. These are the birds of the garden and orchard. There are
+many other species, wild and solitary in their habits, which are
+delightful songsters in uncultivated regions remote from the town. But
+even these are rare in the depths of the forest. They live on the edge
+of the wood and in the half-wooded pasture.
+
+The birds of the garden and orchard have been frequently described, and
+their habits are very generally known; but in the usual descriptions
+little has been said of their powers and peculiarities of song. In the
+present sketches, I have given particular attention to the vocal powers
+of the different birds, and have endeavored to designate the parts
+which each one performs in the grand hymn of Nature. I shall first
+introduce the Song-Sparrow, (_Fringilla melodia_,) a little bird that
+is universally known and admired. The Song-Sparrow is the earliest
+visitant and the latest resident of the vocal tenants of the field. He
+is plain in his vesture, undistinguished from the female by any
+superiority of plumage, and comes forth in the spring and takes his
+departure in the autumn in the same suit of russet and gray by which he
+is always recognized.
+
+In March, before the violet has ventured to peep out from the southern
+knoll of the pasture or the sunny brow of the hill, while the northern
+skies are liable to pour down at any hour a storm of sleet and snow,
+the Song-Sparrow, beguiled by southern winds, has already made his
+appearance, and, on still mornings, may be heard warbling his few merry
+notes, as if to make the earliest announcement of his arrival. He is,
+therefore, the true harbinger of spring, and, though not the sweetest
+songster of the woods, has the merit of bearing to man the earliest
+tidings of the opening year, and of declaring the first vernal promises
+of Nature. As the notes of those birds that sing only in the night come
+with a double charm to our ears, because they are harmonized by silence
+and hallowed by the hour that is sacred to repose--in like manner does
+the Song-Sparrow delight us in tenfold measure, because he sings the
+sweet prelude to the universal hymn of Nature.
+
+His haunts are the pastures which have been half reduced to tillage,
+and are still partially filled with wild shrubbery; for he is not so
+familiar in his habits as the Hair-bird, that comes close up to our
+door-step, to find the crumbs that are swept from our tables. Though
+his voice is constantly heard in the garden and orchard, he selects a
+more retired spot for his nest, preferring not to trust his progeny to
+the doubtful mercy of the lords of creation. In some secure retreat,
+under a tussock of herbage or a tuft of shrubbery, the female sits upon
+her nest of soft dry grass, containing four or five eggs, of a greenish
+white ground, almost entirely covered with brownish specks. Commencing
+in April, she rears three broods of young during the season, and her
+mate prolongs his notes until the last brood has flown from the nest.
+
+The notes of the Song-Sparrow would not entitle him to be ranked among
+our principal singing-birds, were it not for the remarkable variations
+of his song, in which respect he is equalled, I think, by no other
+bird. Of these variations there are seven or eight which may be
+distinctly recognized, and differing enough to be considered separate
+tunes. The bird does not warble these in regular succession; he is in
+the habit of repeating one several times, and then leaves it, and
+repeats another in a similar manner. Mr. Paine[1] took note, on one
+occasion, of the number of times a Song-Sparrow sang each of the tunes,
+and the order of singing them. Of the tunes, as he had numbered them,
+the bird "sang No. 1, 27 times; No. 2, 36 times; No. 3, 23 times; No.
+4, 19 times; No. 5, 21 times; No. 6, 32 times; No. 7, 18 times. Perhaps
+next he would sing No. 2, then perhaps No. 4, or 5, and so on." Mr.
+Paine adds, "Some males will sing each tune about fifty times, though
+seldom; some will only sing them from five to ten times. But as far as
+I have observed, each male has his seven songs. I have applied the rule
+to as many as a dozen different birds, and the result has been the
+same."
+
+An individual will sometimes, for half a day, confine himself almost
+entirely to a few of these variations; but he will commonly sing each
+one more or less in the course of the day. I have observed also, that,
+when one principal singer takes up a particular tune, other birds in
+the vicinity will unite in the same. The several variations are mostly
+in triple time, a few in common time, and there is an occasional
+blending of both in the same tune, which consists usually of four bars
+or strains, sometimes five, though the song is frequently broken off at
+the end of the third strain. This habit of varying his notes through so
+many permutations, and the singularly fine intonations of many of them,
+entitle the Song-Sparrow to a very high rank as a singing-bird.
+
+There is a manifest difference in the expression of these several
+tunes. The one which I have marked as No. 3 is particularly plaintive,
+and is usually in common time. No. 2 is the one which I think is most
+frequently sung. No. 5 is querulous and entirely unmusical. There is a
+remarkable precision in the song of this bird, and the finest singers
+are those which, in the language of musicians, have the least
+execution. There are some individuals that blend their notes together
+so promiscuously, and use so many flourishes, that it is difficult to
+identify their song, or to perceive its expression. Whether these tunes
+of the Song-Sparrow express to his mate, or to others of his species,
+different sentiments, and convey different messages, or whether the
+bird adopts them for his own amusement, I have not been able to
+determine. Neither have I learned whether a certain hour of the day or
+a certain state of the weather predisposes him to sing a particular
+tune. This point may, perhaps, be determined by some future observer;
+and it may be ascertained that the birds of this species have their
+matins and their vespers, their songs of rejoicing and of complaining,
+of courtship when in presence of their mate, and of encouragement and
+solace when she is sitting upon her nest. As Nature has a benevolent
+and a definite object in every instinct which she has established among
+her creatures, it is not probable that this habit of the Song-Sparrow
+is the mere result of accident. All the variations of his song are
+given, with the specimens, at the end of this article, and, though
+individuals differ in their singing, the notes will afford the reader a
+good general idea of the several tunes.
+
+Soon after the arrival of the Song-Sparrow, when the spring-flowers
+have begun to be conspicuous in the meadow, we are greeted by the more
+fervent and lengthened notes of the Vesper-bird, (_Fringilla
+graminea_,) poured out with a peculiarly pensive modulation. This
+species closely resembles the former, but may be distinguished from it,
+when on the wing, by two white lateral feathers in the tail. The chirp
+of the Song-Sparrow is also louder, and pitched on a lower key, than
+that of the present species. By careless observers, these two Finches,
+on account of the similarity in their general appearance and habits,
+are considered identical. The Vesper-bird, however, is the least
+familiar of the two, and, when both are singing at the same time, will
+be found to occupy a position more remote from the house than the
+other. In several localities, these two species are distinguished by
+the names of Bush-Sparrow and Ground-Sparrow, from their supposed
+different habits of placing their nests, one in a bush and the other on
+the ground. But they do not in fact differ in this respect, as each
+species occasionally builds in both ways.
+
+The Vesper-bird attracts more general attention to his notes than the
+Sparrow, because he sings a longer, though a more monotonous song, and
+warbles with more fervency. His notes bear considerable resemblance to
+those of the Canary-bird, but they are more subdued and plaintive, and
+have a peculiar reedy sound, which is never perceived in the notes of
+the Canary. This bird is periodical in his habits of song, confining
+his lays to particular hours of the day and conditions of the weather.
+The Song-Sparrow, on the contrary, sings about equally from morning to
+night, and but little more at one hour than another; and the different
+performers of this species do not seem to join in concert. This habit
+renders the latter more companionable, at the same time it causes his
+notes to be less regarded than those of the Vesper-bird, who pours them
+forth more sparingly, and at regular periods.
+
+The Vesper-bird begins with all his kindred in a general concert at
+early dawn, after which they are comparatively silent until sunset,
+when they repeat their concert, with still greater zeal than they
+chanted in the morning. It is from this circumstance that it has
+obtained the name it bears--from its evening hymn, or vespers. I have
+heard this name applied to it only in one locality; but it is so
+precisely applicable to its habits, that I have thought it worthy of
+being retained as its distinguishing cognomen. There are particular
+states of the weather that frequently call out the birds of this
+species into a general concert at other periods of the day--as when
+rain is suddenly followed by sunshine, or when a clear sky is suddenly
+darkened by clouds, presenting to them a sort of occasional morn and
+occasional even. It may be remarked, that you seldom hear one of these
+birds singing alone; but when one begins, all others in the vicinity
+immediately join him.
+
+The usual resorts of the Vesper-bird are the pastures and the
+hay-fields; hence the name of Grass-Finch, by which he is usually
+distinguished. His voice is heard frequently by the rustic roadsides,
+where he picks up a considerable portion of his subsistence. This is
+the little bird that so generally serenades us during our evening
+walks, at a little distance from the town, and not so far into the
+woods as the haunts of the Thrushes. When we go out into the country,
+on pleasant days in June or July, at nightfall, we hear multitudes of
+them singing sweetly from a hundred different points in the fields and
+farms.
+
+Among the birds which are endowed by Nature with the gift of song in
+connection with gaudy plumage is the American Goldfinch, or Hemp-bird,
+(_Fringilla tristis_,) one of the most interesting and delicate of the
+feathered tribe. Of all our birds this bears the closest resemblance to
+the Canary, both in his plumage and in the notes of his song. He cannot
+be ranked with the finest of our songsters, being deficient in compass
+and variety. But he has great sweetness of tone, and is equalled by few
+birds in the rapidity of his execution. His note of complaint is
+exactly like that of the Canary, and is heard at almost all times of
+the year. He utters also, when flying, a very animated series of notes,
+during the repeated undulations of his night, and they seem to be
+uttered with each effort he makes to rise.
+
+It is remarkable that this bird, though he often rears two broods in a
+season, does not begin to build his nest until July, after the first
+broods of the Robin and the Song-Sparrow have flown from their nests.
+Mr. Augustus Fowler[2] is of opinion, from his observation of their
+habits of feeding their young, that the cause of this procrastination
+is, "that they would be unable to find, in the spring and early summer,
+those new and milky seeds which are the necessary food of their young,"
+and takes occasion to allude to that beneficent law of Nature which
+provides that these birds "should not bring forth their young until the
+very time when those seeds used by them for food have passed into the
+milk, in which state they are easily dissolved by the stomach, and when
+an abundant supply may always be found."
+
+The Hemp-birds are remarkable for associating at a certain season, and
+singing, as it were, in choirs. "During spring and summer," says Mr.
+Fowler, "they rove about in small flocks, and in July will assemble
+together in considerable numbers on a particular tree, seemingly for no
+other purpose than to sing. These concerts are held by them on the
+forenoon of each day, for a week or ten days, after which they soon
+commence building their nests. I am inclined to believe that this is
+their time of courtship, and that they have a purpose in these meetings
+beside that of singing. If perchance one is heard in the air, the males
+utter their call-note with great emphasis, particularly if the
+new-comer be a female; and while in her undulating flight she describes
+a circle, preparatory to alighting, they will stand almost erect, move
+their heads to the right and left, and burst simultaneously into song."
+
+While engaged in these concerts, it would seem as if they were governed
+by some rule, that enabled them to time their voices, and to swell or
+diminish the volume of sound. Some of this effect is undoubtedly
+produced by the gradual manner in which the different voices join in
+harmony, beginning with one or two, and increasing in numbers in a sort
+of geometrical progression, until all are singing at once, and then in
+the same gradual manner becoming silent. This produces the effect of a
+perfect _crescendo_ and _diminuendo_. Beginning, as it seems, at a
+distance, one voice leads on another, and the numbers multiply until
+they make a loud shout, which dies away gradually until one single
+voice winds up the chorus. These concerts are repeated at intervals,
+sometimes for an hour in duration.
+
+Another peculiar habit of the Hemp-bird is that of building a nest, and
+then tearing it to pieces before any eggs have been deposited in it,
+and using the materials to make a new nest in another locality. In
+former years I have repeatedly watched this singular operation, in the
+Lombardy poplars that stood before my study-windows. I have thought
+that the male bird only was addicted to this practice, and that this
+might be his method of amusement while unprovided with a partner. The
+nest of the Hemp-bird is made of cotton, the down of the fern, and
+other soft materials, woven together with threads and the fibres of
+bark, and lined with thistle-down, if it be late enough to obtain it,
+and sometimes with cow's hair. It is commonly placed in the fork of the
+slender branches of a maple, linden, or poplar, and is fastened to them
+with singular ingenuity.
+
+Among the earliest songsters of spring, occasionally tuning his voice
+before the arrival of the multitudinous choir, is the Crimson Finch or
+American Linnet (_Fringilla purpurea_). I have frequently heard his
+notes on warm days in March, and once, in a very mild season, I heard
+one warbling cheerily on the 18th of February. But the Linnet does not
+persevere like the Song-Sparrow, after he has once commenced. His voice
+is only occasionally heard, until the middle of April, after which he
+is a very constant singer.
+
+The notes of this bird are very simple and melodious, and some
+individuals greatly excel others in their powers of song. It is
+generally believed that the young males are the best singers, and that
+age diminishes their vocal capacity. The greater number utter only a
+few strains, resembling the notes of the Warbling Fly-catcher, (_Vireo
+gilvus_,) and these are constantly repeated during the greater part of
+the day. His song consists of four or five bars or strains; but there
+are individuals that extend them _ad libitum_, varying their notes
+after the manner of the Canary. The latter, however, sings with more
+precision, and is louder and shriller in his tones. I have not observed
+that this bird is more prone to sing in the morning and evening than at
+noonday and at all hours.
+
+I have alluded to the fact that the finest singing-birds build their
+nests and seek their food either on the ground or among the shrubbery
+and the lower branches of trees, and that, when singing, they are
+commonly perched rather low. The Linnet is an exception to this general
+habit of the singing-birds, and, in company with the Warbling
+Fly-catchers, he is commonly high up in an elm or some other tall tree,
+and almost entirely out of sight, when exercising himself in song. It
+is this preference for the higher branches of trees that enables these
+birds, as well as the Golden Robin, to be denizens of the city. Hence
+they may be heard singing as freely and melodiously from the trees on
+Boston Common as in the wild-wood or orchard in the country.
+
+I have seen the Linnet frequently in confinement; but he does not sing
+so well in a cage as in a state of freedom. His finest and most
+prolonged strains are delivered while on the wing. On such occasions
+only does he sing with fervor. While perched on a tree, his song is
+short and not greatly varied. If you closely watch his movements when
+he is singing, he may be seen on a sudden to take flight, and, while
+poising himself in the air, though still advancing, he pours out a
+continued strain of melody, not surpassed by the notes of any other
+bird. On account of the infrequency of these occasions, it is seldom we
+have an opportunity to witness a full exhibition of the musical powers
+of the Linnet.
+
+The male American Linnet is crimson on the head, neck, and throat,
+dusky on the upper part of its body, and beneath somewhat
+straw-colored. It is remarkable that a great many individuals are
+destitute of this color, being plainly clad, like the female. These are
+supposed to be old birds, and the loss of color is attributed to age.
+The same change takes place when the bird is confined.
+
+The little bird whose notes serve more than those of any other species
+to enliven the summer noondays in our villages is the House-Wren
+(_Troglodytes fulvus_). It is said to reside and rear its young chiefly
+in the Middle States; but it is far from being uncommon in
+Massachusetts, and, as it extends its summer migrations to Labrador, it
+is probable that it breeds there also. It is evident, however, that its
+breeding-places are not confined to northern latitudes. It is a
+migratory bird, is never seen here in winter, but commonly arrives in
+May and returns south early in October. It builds in a hollow tree,
+like the Blue-bird, or in a box or other vessel provided for it, and by
+furnishing such accommodations we may easily entice one to make its
+home in our inclosures.
+
+The Wren is a very active bird, and one of the most restless of the
+feathered tribe. He is continually in motion, and even when singing he
+is always flitting about and changing his position. We see him in
+almost all places, as it were, at the same moment of time,--now
+warbling in ecstasy from the roof of a shed, then, with his wings
+spread and feathers ruffled, scolding furiously at a Blue-bird or a
+Swallow that has alighted on his box, or driving a Robin from a
+cherry-tree that stands near his habitation. The next instant we
+observe him running along on a stone wall, and diving down and in and
+out, from one side to the other, through the openings between the
+stories, with all the nimbleness of a squirrel. He is on the ridge of
+the barn-roof, he is peeping into the dove-cote, he is in the garden
+under the currant-bushes, or chasing a spider or a moth under a
+cabbage-leaf; again he is on the roof of the shed, warbling
+vociferously; and all these manoeuvres and peregrinations have occupied
+hardly a minute, so rapid and incessant is he in his motions.
+
+The notes of the Wren are very lively and garrulous, and, if not
+uttered more frequently during the heat of the day, are certainly more
+noticeable at this hour. There is a concert at noonday, as well as in
+the morning and evening, among the birds, and in the former the Wren is
+one of the principal musicians. After the full rays of the sun have
+silenced the early performers, the Song-Sparrow and the Red Thrush
+continue to sing, at intervals, the greater part of the day. The Wren
+is likewise heard at all hours; but when the languishing heat of noon
+has arrived, and most of the birds are silent, the few that continue to
+sing become more than usually vocal, and seem to form a select company.
+They appear, indeed, to prefer the noonday, because the general silence
+that prevails at this hour renders their voices more distinguishable
+than at other times. The birds which are thus, as it were, associated
+with the Wren, in this noonday concert, are the Bobolink, the Cat-bird,
+and the two Warbling Fly-catchers, occasionally joined by the few and
+simple notes of the Summer Yellow-bird. If we are in the vicinity of
+the deep woods, we may also hear, at this hour, the loud and shrill
+voice of the Golden-Crowned Thrush, a bird that is partial to the heat
+of noon.
+
+Of all these, however, the Wren is the most remarkable, having a note
+that is singularly varied and animated. He exhibits great compass and
+power of execution, but wants variety in his tones. He begins very
+sharp and shrill, like a grasshopper, then suddenly falls to a series
+of low guttural notes, and ascends, like the rolling of a drum, to
+another series of high notes, rapidly trilled. Almost without a pause,
+he recommences with his querulous insect-chirp, and proceeds through
+the same trilling and demi-semiquavering as before. He is not
+particular about the part of the song which he makes his closing note,
+but will leave off right in the middle of a strain, when he appears to
+be in the height of ecstasy, to pick up a spider or a fly.
+
+As the Wren raises two broods of young in a season, his notes are
+prolonged to a late period of the summer, being frequently heard in the
+second or third week in August. He leaves for a southern clime about
+the first of October. In his migratory habits he differs from the
+European Wren, which is a constant resident in his native regions.
+
+Our American birds, like the American flowers, have not been celebrated
+in classic song. They are scarcely known, except to our own people, and
+they have not in general been exalted by praise above their real
+merits. We read, both in prose and verse, the praises of the European
+Lark, Linnet, and Nightingale, and the English Robin Redbreast has been
+immortalized in song. But the American Robin, (_Turdus migratorius_,)
+though surnamed Redbreast, is a bird of different species and different
+habits. Little has been written about him, and he enjoys but little
+celebrity; he has never been puffed and overpraised, and, though
+universally admired, the many who admire him are diffident all the
+while, lest they are mistaken in their judgment and are wasting their
+admiration upon an object that is unworthy of it, and whose true merits
+fall short of their own estimate.
+
+I shall not ask pardon of those critics who are always canting about
+genius--and who would probably deny this gift to the Robin, because he
+cannot cry like a chicken or squall like a cat, and because with his
+charming strains he does not mingle all sorts of discords and
+incongruous sounds--for assigning to the Robin the highest rank as a
+singing-bird. Let them say of him, in the cant of modern criticism,
+that his performances cannot be great, because they are faultless; it
+is enough for me, that his mellow notes, heard at the earliest flush of
+morning, in the more busy hour of noon, or the quiet lull of evening,
+come upon the ear in a stream of unqualified melody, as if he had
+learned to sing under the direct instruction of that beautiful Dryad
+who taught the Lark and the Nightingale. The Robin is surpassed by
+certain birds in some particular qualities. The Mocking-bird has more
+power, the Red Thrush more variety, the Vesper-bird more execution, and
+the Bobolink more animation; but each of these birds has more faults
+than the Robin, and would be less esteemed as a constant companion, a
+vocalist for all hours, whose strains never tire and never offend.
+
+There are thousands who admire the Mocking-bird, because, after pouring
+forth a continued stream of ridiculous and disagreeable sounds, or a
+series of two or three notes repeated more than a hundred times in
+uninterrupted and monotonous succession, he condescends to utter a
+single delightfully modulated strain. He often brings his tiresome
+_extravaganzas_ to a magnificent climax of melody, and just as often
+concludes an inimitable chant with a most contemptible bathos. But the
+notes of the Robin are all melodious, all delightful,--loud without
+vociferation, mellow without monotony, fervent without ecstasy, and
+combining more of mellowness of tone, plaintiveness, cheerfulness, and
+propriety of execution, than those of any other bird.
+
+The Robin is the Philomel of our spring and summer mornings in New
+England, and in all the country north and west of these States. Without
+his sweet notes, the mornings would be like a vernal landscape without
+flowers, or a summer-evening sky without tints. He is the chief
+performer in the delightful anthem that welcomes the rising day. Of the
+others, the best are but accompaniments of more or less importance.
+Remove the Robin from this woodland orchestra, and it would be left
+without a _soprano_. Over all the northern parts of this continent,
+wherever there are any human settlements, these birds are numerous and
+familiar. There is probably not an orchard in all New England that is
+not supplied with several of these musicians. When we consider the
+millions thus distributed over this broad country, we can imagine the
+sublimity of that chorus which, from the middle of April until the last
+of July, must daily ascend to heaven from the voices of these birds,
+not one male of which is silent, on any pleasant morning, from the
+earliest flush of dawn until sunrise.
+
+In my boyhood, an early morning-walk was one of my favorite
+recreations, and never can I forget those delightful matins that
+awaited me at every turn. Even then I wondered that so little
+admiration was expressed for the song of the Robin, who seemed to me to
+be worthy of the highest regard. The Robin, when reared in confinement,
+is one of the most affectionate and interesting of birds. His powers of
+song are likewise susceptible of great improvement. Though not prone to
+imitation, he may be taught to sing tunes, and to imitate the notes of
+other birds. I have heard one whistle "Over the water to Charlie" as
+well as it could be played with a fife. Indeed, this bird is so
+tractable, that I believe any well-directed efforts would never fail of
+teaching him to sing any simple melody.
+
+But what do we care about his power of learning artificial music? Even
+if he could be taught to perform like a _maestro_, this would not
+enhance his value as a minstrel of the woods. We are concerned with the
+birds only as they are in a state of nature. It is the simplicity of
+the songs of birds, as I have before remarked, that constitutes their
+principal charm; and were the Robins so changed in their nature as to
+relinquish their native notes, and sing only tunes hereafter, we should
+listen to them with as much indifference as to the whistling of boys in
+the streets.
+
+In the elms on Boston Common, and in all the lofty trees in the suburbs
+as well as in the country villages, are two little birds whose songs
+are heard daily and hourly, from the middle of May until the latter
+part of summer. These are the Warbling Fly-catchers (_Vireo gilvus and
+V. olivaceus_). The first is commonly designated as the Warbling Vireo,
+the second as the Red-eyed Vireo. The former arrives about a week or
+ten days earlier than the other, and becomes silent likewise at a
+somewhat earlier period. Both species are very similar in their habits,
+frequenting the villages in preference to the woods, singing at all
+hours of the day, particularly at noon, taking all their insect prey
+from the leaves and branches of trees, or seizing it as it flits by
+their perch, and amusing themselves, while thus employed, with
+oft-repeated fragments of song. Each builds a pensile nest, or places
+it in the fork of the slender branches of a tree. I have seen a nest of
+the Warbling Vireo placed less than fifteen feet from the ground, on a
+pear-tree, directly opposite the window of a chamber that was
+constantly occupied; but the nests of both species are usually
+suspended at a considerable height from the ground.
+
+The notes of the Warbling Vireo have been described by the words,
+"Brigadier, Brigadier, Bridget." They are few, simple, and melodious,
+and being often repeated, they form a very important part of the sylvan
+music of cultivated and thickly-settled places. It is difficult to
+obtain sight of this little warbler while he is singing, on account of
+his small size, the olive color of his plumage, and his habit of
+perching among the dense foliage of the trees.
+
+The Red-eyed Vireo is more generally known by his note, because he is
+particularly vocal during the heat of the long summer-days, when other
+birds are comparatively silent. The modulation of his notes is similar
+to that of the common Robin, but his tones are sharper, and he sings in
+a very desultory manner, leaving off very frequently in the middle of a
+strain to seize a moth or a beetle. Singing, while he is engaged in
+song, never seems to be his sole employment. This is the little bird
+that warbles for us late in the summer, after almost all other birds
+have become silent, uttering his moderate notes, as if for his own
+amusement, during all the heat of the day, from the trees by the
+roadsides and in our inclosures. We might then suppose him to be
+repeating very moderately the words, "Do you hear me? Do you see me?"
+with the rising inflection of the voice, and with a pause after each
+sentence, as if he waited for an answer.
+
+As soon as the cherry-tree is in blossom, and when the oak and the
+maple are beginning to unfold their plaited leaves, the loud and mellow
+notes of the Golden Robin (_Icterus Baltimore_) are heard for the first
+time in the year. I have never known the birds of this species to
+arrive before this date, and they seem to be governed by the supply of
+their insect food, which probably becomes abundant simultaneously with
+the flowering of the orchards. These birds may from that time be
+observed diligently hunting among the branches and foliage of the
+trees, and they appear to make a particular examination of the
+blossoms, from which they obtain a great variety of flies and beetles
+that are lodged in them. While thus employed, the bird frequently
+utters his brief, but loud and melodious notes; but he sings, like the
+Vireo, only while attending to the wants of life. Almost all remarkable
+singing-birds, when warbling, give themselves up entirely to song, and
+pay no regard to other demands upon their time until they have
+concluded. But the Golden Robin never relaxes from his industry, nor
+remains stationed upon the branch of a tree for the sole purpose of
+singing. He sings, like an industrious maid-of-all-work, only while
+employed in the ordinary concerns of life.
+
+The Golden Robin is said to inhabit North America from Canada to
+Mexico; but there is reason to believe that the species is most
+abundant in the north-eastern parts of the continent, and that a
+greater number breed in the New England States than either south or
+west of this section. They are also more numerous in the suburbs of
+cities and towns than in the ruder and more primitive parts of the
+country. Their peculiar manner of protecting their pensile nests, by
+hanging them from the extremities of the lofty branches of an elm or
+other tall tree, enables the bird to rear its young with great
+security, even in the heart of the city. The only animals that are able
+to reach their nests are the smaller squirrels, which sometimes descend
+the long, slender branches upon which they are suspended, and devour
+the eggs.
+
+This depredation I have never witnessed; but I have seen the Red
+Squirrel descend in this manner to devour the crysalis of a certain
+insect, which was rolled up in a leaf.
+
+The ways and manners of the Golden Robin are very interesting. He is
+remarkable for his vivacity, and his bright plumage renders all his
+movements conspicuous. His plumage needs no description, since every
+one is familiar with its colors, as they are seen like flashes of fire
+among the trees. The bird derives its specific name (Baltimore) from
+the resemblance of its colors to the livery of Lord Baltimore of
+Maryland. The name of a bird ought to have either a sylvan or a poetic
+origin. This has neither. I prefer, therefore, the common and
+expressive name of Golden Robin.
+
+This bird is supposed to possess considerable power of musical
+imitation. Still it may be observed that in all cases he gives the
+notes of those birds only whose voice resembles his own. Thus, he often
+repeats the song of the Red-bird, but in doing this he varies his own
+notes no more than he might do without meaning any imitation. Though he
+repeats but few notes, he utters them with great variety of modulation.
+Sometimes for several days he confines himself to a single strain, and
+afterwards for about an equal space of time he will adopt another
+strain. Sometimes he lengthens his brief notes into an extended melody,
+and sings in a sort of ecstasy, like the birds of the Finch tribe. Such
+musical paroxysms are exceedingly rare in his case, and seem to be
+occasioned by some momentary exultation.
+
+The Golden Robin rears but one brood of young in this part of the
+country, and his cheerful notes are discontinued soon after the young
+have left their nest. The song of the old bird seems after this period
+hardly necessary to the offspring, who keep up an incessant chirping
+from the moment of leaving their nest until they are able to accompany
+the old ones to the woods, whither they retire in the latter part of
+the season. It is remarkable, that, after a perfect silence of two or
+three weeks after this time, the Golden Robins suddenly make their
+appearance again for a few days, uttering the same merry notes with
+which they hailed the arrival of summer. They soon disappear again, and
+before autumn arrives they make their annual journey to the South,
+where they pass the winter.
+
+There is no singing-bird in New England that enjoys the notoriety of
+the Bobolink (_Icterus agripennis_). He is like a rare wit in our
+social or political circles. Everybody is talking about him and quoting
+his remarks, and all are delighted with his company. He is not without
+great merits as a songster; but he is well known and admired, because
+he is showy, noisy, and flippant, and sings only in the open field, and
+frequently while poised on the wing, so that everybody who hears him
+can see him, and know who is the author of the strains that afford him
+so much delight. He sings also at broad noonday, when everybody is out,
+and is seldom heard before sunrise, while other birds are pouring forth
+their souls in a united concert of praise. He waits until the sun is
+up, and when most of the early performers have become silent, as if
+determined to secure a good audience before exhibiting his powers.
+
+The Bobolink, or Conquedle, has unquestionably great talents as a
+musician. In the grand concert of Nature it is he who performs the
+_recitative_ parts, which he delivers with the utmost fluency and
+rapidity; and one must be a careful listener, not to lose many of his
+words. He is plainly the merriest of all the feathered creation, almost
+continually in motion, and singing upon the wing, apparently in the
+greatest ecstasy of joy.
+
+There is not a plaintive strain in his whole performance. Every sound
+is as merry as the laugh of a young child; and one cannot listen to him
+without fancying that he is indulging in some jocose raillery of his
+companions. If we suppose him to be making love, we cannot look upon
+him as very deeply enamored, but rather as highly delighted with his
+spouse, and overflowing with rapturous admiration. The object of his
+love is a neatly formed bird, with a mild expression of countenance, a
+modest and amiable deportment, and arrayed in the plainest apparel. It
+is evident that she does not pride herself upon the splendor of her
+costume, but rather on its neatness, and on her own feminine graces.
+She must be entirely without vanity, unless we suppose that it is
+gratified by observing the pomp and display which are made by her
+partner, and by listening to his delightful eloquence of song: for if
+we regard him as an orator, it must be allowed that he is unsurpassed
+in fluency and rapidity of utterance; and if we regard him only as a
+musician, he is unrivalled in brilliancy of execution.
+
+Vain are all attempts, on the part of other birds, to imitate his truly
+original style. The Mocking-bird gives up the attempt in despair, and
+refuses to sing at all when confined near one in a cage. I cannot look
+upon him as ever in a very serious humor. He seems to be a lively,
+jocular little fellow, who is always jesting and bantering, and when
+half a dozen different individuals are sporting about in the same
+orchard, I often imagine that they might represent the persons
+dramatized in some comic opera. These birds never remain stationary
+upon the bough of a tree, singing apparently for their own solitary
+amusement; but they are ever in company, and passing to and fro, often
+commencing their song upon the extreme end of the bough of an
+apple-tree, then suddenly taking flight, and singing the principal part
+while balancing themselves on the wing. The merriest part of the day
+with these birds is the later afternoon, during the hour preceding
+dewfall, and before the Robins and Thrushes commence their evening
+hymn. Then, assembled in company, it would seem as if they were
+practising a cotillon upon the wing, each one singing to his own
+movements, as he sallies forth and returns,--and nothing can exceed
+their apparent merriment.
+
+The Bobolink usually commences his warbling just after sunrise, when
+the Robin, having sung from the earliest dawn, brings his performance
+to a close. Nature seems to have provided that the serious parts of her
+musical entertainment in the morning shall first be heard, and that the
+lively and comic strains shall follow them. In the evening this order
+is reversed; and after the comedy is concluded, Nature lulls us to
+meditation and repose by the mellow notes of the little Vesper-bird,
+and the pensive and still more melodious strains of the solitary
+Thrushes.
+
+In pleasant, sunshiny weather, the Bobolink seldom flies without
+singing, often hovering on the wing over the place where his mate is
+sitting upon her ground-built nest, and pouring forth his notes with
+great loudness and fluency. The Bobolink is one of our social birds,
+one of those species that follow in the footsteps of man, and multiply
+with the progress of agriculture. He is not a frequenter of the woods;
+he seems to have no taste for solitude. He loves the orchard and the
+mowing-field, and many are the nests which are exposed by the scythe of
+the haymaker, if the mowing be done early in the season. Previously to
+the settlement of America, these birds must have been comparatively
+rare in the New England States, and were probably confined to the open
+prairies and savannas in the northwestern territory.
+
+
+THE O'LINCON FAMILY.
+
+
+  A flock of merry singing-birds were sporting in the grove;
+  Some were warbling cheerily, and some were making love:
+  There were Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, Conquedle,--
+  A livelier set was never led by tabor, pipe, or fiddle,--
+  Crying, "Phew, shew, Wadolincon, see, see, Bobolincon,
+  Down among the tickletops, hiding in the buttercups!
+  I know the saucy chap, I see his shining cap
+  Bobbing in the clover there,--see, see, see!"
+
+  Up flies Bobolincon, perching on an apple-tree,
+  Startled by his rival's song, quickened by his raillery.
+  Soon he spies the rogue afloat, curvetting in the air,
+  And merrily he turns about, and warns him to beware!
+  "'Tis you that would a-wooing go, down among the rushes O!
+  But wait a week, till flowers are cheery,--wait a week, and, ere you
+    marry,
+  Be sure of a house wherein to tarry!
+  Wadolink, Whiskodink, Tom Denny, wait, wait, wait!"
+
+  Every one's a funny fellow; every one's a little mellow;
+  Follow, follow, follow, follow, o'er the hill and in the hollow!
+  Merrily, merrily, there they hie; now they rise and now they fly;
+  They cross and turn, and in and out, and down in the middle, and
+    wheel about,--
+  With a "Phew, shew, Wadolincon! listen to me Bobolincon!--
+  Happy's the wooing that's speedily doing, that's speedily doing,
+  That's merry and over with the bloom of the clover!
+  Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, follow, follow me!"
+
+  Oh, what a happy life they lead, over the hill and in the mead!
+  How they sing, and how they play! See, they fly away, away!
+  Now they gambol o'er the clearing,--off again, and then appearing;
+  Poised aloft on quivering wing, now they soar, and now they sing:--
+  "We must all be merry and moving; we must all be happy and loving;
+  For when the midsummer has come, and the grain has ripened its ear,
+  The haymakers scatter our young, and we mourn for the rest of the
+    year.
+  Then Bobolincon, Wadolincon, Winterseeble, haste, haste, away!"
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE SONG-SPARROW, AND ITS VARIATIONS. Three
+lines of music. Line one is labelled THEME. Line 2 is labelled Var. 1
+and line 3 is Var. 2.]
+
+[Illustration: (musical notation) NOTE.--The notes marked _guttural_
+seem to me to be performed by a rapid trilling of these notes with
+their octave. It should be added, that no bird sings constantly in so
+regular time as is represented above, and the intervals between the
+high and low notes are very irregular. Both the time and the tune are
+in great measure _ad libitum_]
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE LINNET. (_Fringilla purpurea_.) (musical
+notation)]
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE WREN. (_Trogledytes fulvus_.) (musical
+notation)]
+
+[Illustration: SONG OF THE ROBIN. (_Turdus migratorius_.) (musical
+notation)]
+
+Another--Flexibly modulated, as if pronouncing the words below.
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] Tu lu lu, tu lu lu, tu lu lu, too loo.
+
+NOTE.--The Robin is continually varying his notes; so that the two
+specimens, as given above, may be considered but the theme upon which
+he constructs his melody.
+
+SONG OF THE WARBLING VIREO. (_V. Gilvus._)
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] Brigadier Brigadier Brigadier Briget.
+
+SONG OF THE RED-EYED VIREO. (_V. olivaceus._)
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] pauses to Take a fly.
+
+[Illustration: Musical staff] takes another, The same repeated without
+conclusion.
+
+SONG OF THE GOLDEN ROBIN. (_Icterus Baltimore._) [Illustration: Musical
+staff]
+
+[Footnote 1: Mr. Charles S. Paine, of East Randolph, who, I believe,
+was the first to observe this habit of the Song-Sparrow.]
+
+[Footnote 2: Mr. Augustus Fowler of Danversport, who has made one of
+the finest collections of the eggs of native birds. His drawings of the
+same are beautifully executed, accompanied by representations of the
+nests and of the foliage that surrounded them. This gentleman and his
+brother, Mr. S.P. Fowler, have found leisure, during the intervals of
+their occupation in a mechanical art, to acquire a knowledge of certain
+branches of natural history which would do honor to a professor.]
+
+
+
+THE OLD WELL.
+
+
+On a bright April morning many years ago, a stout, red-faced old
+gentleman, Geoffrey Purcill, followed by several workmen bearing
+shovels and pick-axes, took his way to a little knoll on which stood a
+wide-spreading chestnut-tree. When they reached the top of the knoll,
+the old man paused a moment and then struck his gold-headed cane upon
+the ground at some little distance from the trunk of the tree, saying,
+"Dig here."
+
+The workmen looked at each other and then at their master.
+
+"It would be useless to dig a well here, Sir," said one of the workmen,
+very respectfully,--"no water would ever come into it."
+
+"Who asked for your opinion?" inquired Geoffrey, in an angry tone. "Do
+as I bid you;--the well shall be digged here, and water _shall_ come
+into it."
+
+The man ventured no further remonstrance; he took off his jacket, and
+struck his pickaxe into the hard, dry soil near the point where the
+cane rested.
+
+Geoffrey Purcill was a choleric old gentleman, who, having had his own
+way all his life, was by no means inclined to forego that privilege now
+that he was advanced in years. As he sat beneath the chestnut-tree, one
+warm spring day, he felt very thirsty, and he suddenly thought what a
+good thing it would be to have a well there, so that he might refresh
+himself with a draught of clear, cool water, without the trouble of
+returning to the house. The more thirsty he grew, the pleasanter seemed
+the project to him,--a large, deep well, neatly stoned, with a sweep
+and buckets,--it would be a pretty object to look at, as well as
+comfort to man and beast. The well should be digged forthwith, and what
+Geoffrey Purcill once resolved upon he was not slow to execute; and,
+despite the remonstrances of those who knew better than he, the work
+was commenced at once.
+
+A more unpromising place for a well could not have been selected in all
+his extensive grounds; but he was not a man to be patiently baffled
+even by Nature herself, and he stood looking with grim satisfaction at
+the hole which rapidly widened and deepened under the vigorous efforts
+of his sturdy workmen.
+
+Day after day old Geoffrey watched his workmen on the knoll. The well
+increased in size till it was large enough to have watered a whole
+caravan,--but the desert of Sahara itself was not drier. Geoffrey
+fumed, raved, and swore; and when two of the men were killed by the
+falling of the earth, and the rest absolutely refused to work any
+longer, he bade them go, a pack of ungrateful scoundrels as they were,
+and, procuring more laborers, declared "he would dig there till the
+Devil came to fetch him."
+
+Geoffrey was as good as his word;--he labored with a pertinacity worthy
+of a better object, and dug deeper into the bowels of the earth, and
+partly stoned his well,--but no water, save that which fell from
+heaven, ever appeared in it.
+
+And when old Geoffrey was gathered to his fathers, he left his house
+and grounds to his only daughter, Eleanor Purcill, on the express
+condition that the well was not to be filled up, but to remain open
+till water did come into it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+One July day, when Geoffrey Purcill had been some twenty years with his
+fathers, or with Satan, (which two destinies might have been one and
+the same, after all, for he came of a turbulent, wicked race,) two
+children, a boy and girl, sat on the brink of the well and looked down
+into it. It was half filled with the rubbish of the fallen stones, but
+it was still deep, and dark enough to tempt their curious eyes into
+trying to discover what lay hidden in its shadowy depths. The great
+chestnut-tree, rich with drooping, feathery blossoms, shaded them from
+the burning sun,--a few stray beams only finding their way through the
+glossy leaves, and resting on the golden curls of the girl.
+
+The boy leaned over the well, and peered into it;--the little girl bent
+forward, as if to do the same, but drew back again.
+
+"Take hold of my hand, Mark," said she, "and let me lean over as you
+do."
+
+"What do you want to look in for?" asked the boy,--"there is nothing to
+see. Oh, yes," continued he, mischievously, "there is a horrid dragon,
+just such as St. George fought with, lying all curled up in the bottom
+of the well, with fire and smoke coming out of his mouth."
+
+Rosamond Purcill was too true a descendant of old Geoffrey to be
+frightened at the thought of a dragon. She caught hold of Mark's arm to
+steady herself, and leaned over the well.
+
+"Let me see! let me see!" cried she, eagerly.
+
+Mark made one or two feints of pushing her in, but at last held her
+firmly by the waist, while she looked in vain for the fabulous monster
+below.
+
+"Where is he, Mark? I don't see anything, and I don't believe you saw
+him."
+
+"Oh, yes, I did," said Mark;--"there, don't you see the end of his tail
+sticking out from under the largest stone? May-be he has had one little
+girl for breakfast this morning, and don't care about another for
+luncheon, or else he would spring up after you, and gobble you up in a
+minute."
+
+"What stories, Mark! Aunt Eleanor says there are no dragons, nor ever
+were."
+
+"Pooh!" retorted Mark, contemptuously,--"Aunt Eleanor has not seen
+everything that there is to be seen in the world. Look again, Rosy."
+
+Again the little curly head was bent over the well, somewhat puzzled
+which to believe, Aunt Eleanor or Mark, but half-inclined to credit
+Mark's eyes rather than Aunt Eleanor's words.
+
+"Do you think that can be one of his scales?" asked she, pointing to a
+small piece of tin which glittered in a stray sunbeam among the stones.
+
+Mark's eyes followed the direction of her finger, and he was about to
+declare that it must be a scale that the dragon had scraped off his
+back, wriggling among the stones, when both children were startled by a
+loud voice calling out, "What are you doing, children? You will fall
+into the well and break your good-for-nothing little necks!"
+
+Mark and Rosamond drew back, and saw a young man, their brother
+Bradford, with a basket and a fishing-rod in his hand, coming up the
+knoll.
+
+"Why are you here, Mark?" asked he. "Aunt Eleanor thinks it a dangerous
+place, and has forbidden you to play here."
+
+Mark looked up at his brother. "I come," said he, sturdily, "for that
+very reason,--because I am told not to. I won't mind Aunt Eleanor, nor
+any other woman."
+
+Bradford shook his head and burst out into a laugh. "Ah, Mark, my boy,"
+said he, with a serious, comical air, "it will do very well for you to
+talk,--you will find out, sooner or later, that all men have to do just
+what women wish."
+
+Mark opened his incredulous eyes, and inwardly resolved that this
+should never be the case with him; and considering that Bradford was
+only eighteen it is somewhat remarkable that he should have gained so
+much wisdom, either by observation or experience, at so early an age.
+
+"Mark says," chimed in Rosamond, "that there is a dragon at the bottom
+of the well; and I want to see him."
+
+"A dragon?" cried Bradford,--"Mark is a story-teller, and you are a
+goose;--but if there is one, I will catch him for you";--and he stood
+on the brink of the well, and sportively threw his line into it.
+
+"You are a pretty fellow to talk about catching a dragon, Brad!"
+retorted Mark, a little nettled at the tone in which Bradford spoke of
+him,--"you can't even catch a shiner!"--and he glanced at Bradford's
+empty basket.
+
+Bradford laughed louder than before. "And for that very reason I expect
+to catch the dragon. One kind of a line will not catch all kinds of
+fish; and this line may be good for nothing but dragons, after
+all.--There! I've got a bite. Stand back, Rosy," cried he, "the dragon
+will be on the grass in a minute."
+
+Bradford tried to pull up his line, but it was either entangled among
+the stones, or had some heavy object attached to it, for the rod bent
+beneath the weight as he with a strong pull endeavored to draw up his
+prize. Rosamond's eyes opened to their widest extent, and, fully
+expecting to see the dragon swinging wide-mouthed in the air over her
+head, drew a little closer to Mark, who, on his part, wondered what
+Bradford was at, and whether he was not playing some trick upon him.
+
+When the end of the line rose to the top of the well, they saw
+suspended by the two hooks, not a winged, scaly monster, but a small
+rusty box, in the fastenings of which the hooks had caught.
+
+Rosamond drew a long breath,--"Is that all, Bradford? I am so sorry! I
+thought, to be sure, you had the dragon."
+
+"Never mind the dragon, Rosy," cried he; "let us see what I have
+caught.
+
+"Who knows but the purse of Fortunatus or the slipper of Cinderella may
+be in here?--they have been lost for many a day, and nobody knows where
+they are."
+
+Bradford knelt down on the grass, and, unhooking his line, strove to
+undo the rusty hasp; but it resisted all the efforts of his fingers,
+and it was only by the aid of a knife and a stone that he opened the
+box. In it was a morocco case, much discolored, but still in tolerable
+preservation, from which he drew a small manuscript book.
+
+Rosamond's disappointment was greater than before. "It is nothing but a
+writing-book, after all," said she. "I wish you had not said anything
+about the purse or slipper, and then I should never have thought of
+them. You never heard anybody say where they thought the purse and
+slipper were hid,--did you?"
+
+"Come, Rosy," cried Mark, "come down to the meadow; there is nothing
+more to be got out of the old well. Let us leave Brad alone with his
+book and his fish."
+
+The children turned away towards the meadow,--Rosamond meditating upon
+the probability of her ever finding the purse and slipper, if she
+should ever set out in quest of them, and Mark thinking what a fool
+such a big fellow as Bradford must be, to mind any woman that ever was
+born.
+
+Bradford took the box and the book to the chestnut-tree, and,
+stretching himself at full length in the shade, began to turn over the
+leaves. It was a journal, written in a delicate, graceful hand; and
+though the paper was somewhat yellow, and the ink faded, the writing
+was perfectly legible. Bradford looked at it, carelessly reading here
+and there a sentence, till his eye catching some familiar names, he
+opened it at the commencement, and read as follows:--
+
+"_December_ 31.--It is the last night of the old year. A few more
+steps, and the old year will have vanished into the great hall of the
+Past, where all the ages that ever have been are gathered. I have been
+sitting the last hour by myself, and have fancied that time moved not
+with its usual swiftness,--that the old year lingered with a sad
+regret, as if loath to pass away and let the new come in. Even now the
+midnight clock is striking,--eleven,--twelve;--the last flutter of the
+old year's robe is out of sight, and the new year glides in with
+noiseless feet, like one who enters the chamber of the dead. These are
+but melancholy fancies;--because I am sad myself must I put all the
+world in mourning? The old year did not linger;--it is only I that am
+loath to go. I have been so happy here, that the prospect of spending
+the coming year with Cousin Eleanor fills my mind with sad
+forebodings;--and yet my childish remembrances of her have in them
+nothing unpleasant. I think of her as a grave, quiet woman, who never
+strove to attract and win the love of a child. How I shall miss the
+life and gayety, the jests and laughter of Madge and Bertha! Madge the
+more, because she is so full of whims and oddities. To-night she came
+into my room, and brought this little book for me to write a journal of
+all that befell me while I was gone, making me promise to write often
+in it. Not that she ever wished to see it again. Heaven forbid that she
+should ever be so cruelly punished as to be made to read anybody's
+journal!--least of all such a stupid one as mine must be, shut up with
+Cousin Eleanor!--but she thought that I could never draw the book from
+the case (she had chosen one that fitted very tightly, and would give
+me much trouble for that very reason) without thinking of her;--and to
+be thought of often by her friends she confesses she is weak enough to
+wish.--Dear Madge, I could not forget her, if I would. The book just
+fits in a little japanned box that belonged to my grandmother, in which
+she used to keep rouge and pearl-powder. I will keep it in that, and
+remember my promise to Madge.
+
+"_February_ 21.--The journey is over, and I am at Cousin Eleanor's. How
+the evils that we dread shrink into nothing when we fairly meet them!
+Cousin Eleanor received me kindly, and looked neither so grave nor so
+cold as my memory, assisted by my imagination, had pictured her; and
+Ashcroft is a pretty place, even in midwinter. I am never tired of
+sitting at the library-window, and looking at the bare branches of the
+black ash-trees, as they spread out their network against the winter
+sky. I have a little desk near the bay-window, where I have my drawing
+and writing materials, and where I pretend to write and draw, while
+Eleanor occupies a larger one at the opposite window. Eleanor is a
+woman of business,--keeps all her accounts, looks after her farm and
+servants, and manages all her own affairs, and, though a strict and
+exacting mistress, is neither harsh nor unkind;--she evidently intends
+to perform all her own duties punctually and faithfully, and expects
+others to do the same. I often look at her with wonder, her nature is
+so different from mine,--never impulsive, always cool and steady,--full
+of ceaseless activity, yet never hurried, and seemingly never
+perplexed. I sometimes think she sees the whole of her life mapped out
+before her, and takes up every event in order. With the exception of
+the servants, we are the only occupants of the house, Eleanor does not
+seek nor desire the society of her neighbors; and so while she works I
+dream, read, or answer Madge or Bertha's letters.
+
+"_February_ 28.--It has been snowing ceaselessly for two days. I have
+read, drawn, and sewed till I am as weary as Marianna in the moated
+grange. I have yawned aloud a dozen times, but Eleanor does not mind
+it. She has been extremely busy with accounts, papers, and letters. For
+the last four hours I do not think she has spoken a word. I hear
+nothing but the scratch of her pen as it moves over the paper, and the
+wind in the ash-trees. I have taken Madge's journal in despair. Ah,
+Madge! I wish the bonnie girl were here;--how we would talk nonsense by
+the hour together, just to keep our tongues in practice, and Madge
+would hunt down an idea through all its turnings and windings, as if it
+were a hare, and she a dog in chase of it! A ring at the door;--I hope
+it may be some human body that will make Cousin Eleanor open her lips
+at last.
+
+"_March_ 1.--The blots on the opposite page show with what haste I shut
+up my journal yesterday. The ring at the door brought more than I
+anticipated, and opened my eyes effectually for the rest of the day.
+'Mr. Lee,' said the servant, throwing the library-door wide open, and
+ushering in a man wrapped in a cloak, with a travelling-cap in his
+hand. Cousin Eleanor rose instantly, and advanced to meet him. I
+expected to see her extend her hand towards him, and welcome him in her
+usual courteous manner. Instead of that, she gave him a hearty kiss,
+which could be heard as well as felt, and which was returned, as I
+thought, with interest. If the marble Widow Wadman in the library had
+kissed the sympathizing face of Uncle Toby, I should not have been so
+much surprised, and should have thought it much more likely to happen.
+
+"'I am very glad to see you, Thornton,' said she. 'I did not think you
+could come till to-morrow.'
+
+"'I have made the best use of my time,' returned he, 'and had no wish
+to spend my precious hours at a country inn. It seemed good to see
+winter and snow again, after so many months of summer.'
+
+"Bending forward to catch a better view of him as he spoke, the
+rustling of my dress reminded Eleanor of my presence.
+
+"'My cousin Elizabeth Purcill, Thornton Lee,' said she. 'My two good
+friends I hope will also be friends to each other.'
+
+"Mr. Lee made me a gentlemanly bow, and said something about the
+pleasure of seeing me; but more than suspecting that my presence in the
+library was no pleasure to either of them, I shut up my journal,
+crowded it into the box, and stole out of the room at the first
+convenient opportunity. On the stairs I met Mrs. Bickford, the
+housekeeper.
+
+"'Is any one in the library with Miss Purcill?' asked she.
+
+"'Yes,--a Mr. Lee.'
+
+"'Mr. Lee?' exclaimed she, in surprise. 'I did not know as he was
+expected home now.'
+
+"'Who is Mr. Lee?'
+
+"'He is the gentleman whom Miss Purcill is to marry; but I thought he
+was not coming till autumn. I wonder if she knew it.'
+
+"What Eleanor knows she always keeps to herself; none of her household
+are any the wiser for it. I was more surprised than Mrs. Bickford.
+Eleanor affianced! I never thought or dreamed of such a thing. Eleanor
+in love must be a curious spectacle. I did not feel sleepy any longer.
+What could a woman, so independent, so self-relying, so sufficient for
+herself, want of a lover? She always seemed to be a whole, and did not
+need another half to complete herself. I speculated much on the
+subject, and, when the bell rang for tea, went down-stairs with
+something of the same feeling of eager curiosity with which I open the
+pages of a good novel. There is nothing so interesting to idle,
+observant people as a pair of lovers, provided they are not silly, in
+which stage they are perfectly unbearable, and never should suffer
+themselves to be seen even by their intimate friends. Was it my fancy,
+or not? I thought Eleanor had grown young since I left the library. A
+soft light beamed in her eyes, and a clear crimson--the first trace of
+color I had ever seen in her face--burned on her cheek. It was a very
+different countenance from that at which I had been casting sidelong
+glances half the day, and yet it seemed to me that she was ashamed of
+these signs of joy, and thought it but a weakness to feel so glad. I
+sat silent nearly all the evening;--words always come more readily to
+my pen than to my lips, and, were it not so, there would have been no
+occasion for any speech of mine. Their conversation flowed on
+uninterruptedly, like a full, free river, whose current is strong and
+deep. How much richer both their lives seemed than mine! He had
+travelled, thought, seen, and felt so much, and had brought such wealth
+home with him, fitly coined into aptly chosen words; and she had
+gathered treasures as priceless from the literature of her own and
+foreign lands. I had nothing to offer either of them but my ears, and
+for those I doubt whether they felt grateful,--and when that doubt
+became a certainty, I crept into the great window in the drawing-room,
+and looked out upon the lawn. The moon, breaking through the clouds,
+shone brightly on the new-fallen snow. I sat down on a low chair,--the
+curtains fell about me,--their voices came to me with a low, dreamy
+sound,--I leaned my head on my hand, and fell asleep. When I awoke, the
+fire had died away, and the chairs were empty.
+
+"_March_ 20.--Mr. Lee comes every day. His father lives only a few
+miles from us,--a distance so short as to be no obstacle to a lover
+with a good horse; though I suspect, if the horse could speak, he would
+wish the distance either less or greater. These midnight rides must be
+detrimental to the constitution of any steady horse, and he often wakes
+me up at night, pawing impatiently under the window while his master is
+making his lingering adieux on the door-step.
+
+"_April_ 1.--I dislike Eleanor more every day. I know not why, unless
+because I watch her so closely. When Mr. Lee is not here she works as
+industriously as ever. If I were in love, I would give myself up to a
+dream or reverie now and then, and build myself an air-castle, if it
+were only to see it tumble down, and call myself a fool for my pains;
+but she is too matter-of-fact to do that. Well, if there is not much
+romance about her love, perhaps there is more reality; yet Thornton Lee
+is just the man one could make an ideal of, if one only would. But this
+is not what I especially dislike her for; people must love according to
+their own nature and temperament, and not after another's pattern. The
+thing that frets me most just now is the way that Eleanor has of
+divining my thoughts before they are spoken, and even before they are
+quite clear to myself. Sometimes, when we are talking together, some
+subject comes up on which I do not care to express my opinion. Eleanor
+fixes her clear, penetrating eyes upon me, and drags my thought out
+into the light, just as a kingfisher pounces upon and pulls a fish out
+of the water. Had I anything to conceal, any secret, I should be afraid
+of her; and as it is, I do not like this invasion of my personal
+kingdom,--though my thoughts often acquire new strength and beauty from
+Eleanor's strong and vigorous language. Last evening, Mr. Lee, Eleanor,
+and myself were turning over the prints in a large portfolio. We paused
+at one, the Departure of Hagar into the Wilderness. The artist had
+represented Hagar turning away from the door of the tent with Ishmael
+and the bottle of water; Abraham was near her; while Sarah in the
+background with a triumphant face exulted at the driving out of the
+bondmaid. The picture had not much merit as a work of Art; but in
+Hagar's face was such a look of despairing, wistful tenderness, as she
+turned towards Abraham for the last time, that it moved me almost to
+tears. I drew a long breath as the picture was turned over. Looking up,
+I saw Eleanor's eyes fixed upon me.
+
+"'You pity Hagar, then? You think it was a harsh and cruel thing to
+drive her out into the wilderness with her child?'
+
+"'Yes,' said I, shortly,--a little provoked that she should have seen
+it in my face.
+
+"She went on: 'Sarah was right. Had I been she, I would have driven her
+out as remorselessly and as pitilessly. Did she not, presuming upon her
+youth, her beauty, and her child, despise her mistress? and why should
+her mistress feel compassion for her? The love of a long life might
+well thrust aside the passion of a few months, and Sarah, contemned by
+her bondmaid, is more worthy of pity than Hagar, in my eyes.'
+
+"I was about to say that Sarah was more to blame for Hagar's conduct
+than she was herself, when Mr. Lee observed 'that Abraham was more to
+be pitied than either of them, for he was unable or unwilling to
+protect either of the women whom he loved,--his wife from the contempt
+of her bondmaid, or the bondmaid from the fury of his wife.'
+
+"I fancied Eleanor did not exactly like this remark, for she turned to
+the next print hastily and began commenting upon it.
+
+"_May_ 6.--The groves and fields are beautiful with the fresh beauty of
+the early spring. We have given up our winter occupations for long
+rambles on the hills and in the woods. I sometimes decline being a
+third in the lovers' walks; but Eleanor seems so dissatisfied, if I
+refuse to accompany them, that I consent, lagging behind often, and
+have learned to be both blind and deaf as occasion requires. I think,
+too, that Mr. Lee is not sorry to have me with them. He and Eleanor
+have been separated for three years, and I sometimes wonder if they
+have not grown away from each other in that time. A long absence is a
+dangerous experiment even for friends, much more for lovers. Besides,
+no life is long enough to allow such great gaps in it.
+
+"_June_ 1.--We were sitting yesterday under the ash-trees on the
+lawn,--Eleanor netting, Mr. Lee reading Dante aloud, and I making
+myself rings and bracelets out of the shining blades of grass, and
+pretending to listen, when a servant brought Eleanor a letter. It was
+very short, for she did not turn the leaf. When she had read it she
+drew out her watch.
+
+"'I have an hour before the express-train starts. Tell Mrs. Bickford to
+pack my trunk for a journey. Harness the black horse to drive to the
+station.'
+
+"She put the letter into Mr. Lee's hands. 'My brother is very ill, and
+I shall go to him at once. Elizabeth, I am sorry to leave you here
+alone, but while I am gone I hope Thornton will consider you under his
+charge and protection.'
+
+"She rose, as she spoke, and went towards the house, followed by
+Thornton.
+
+"In a few minutes she appeared again, dressed in a gray
+travelling-dress,--kissed me lightly on the check, and bade me
+good-bye. All her preparations for this long journey had been made
+without any hurry or confusion, and she did not apparently feel so
+agitated or nervous at the thought of travelling this distance alone as
+I should to have gone by myself to the nearest town. Why Thornton did
+not accompany her, whether he could not or she did not wish it, I do
+not know; but he parted from her at the station, and soon returned for
+his horse.
+
+"_July_ 1.--Eleanor has been gone a month; in that time we have
+received but one letter from her. Her brother still lies in a very
+critical state, and she will not leave him at present. His motherless
+children, too, she thinks require her care. It seemed very lonesome at
+first without her. I did not think I could have missed an uncongenial
+person, one with whom I had so little sympathy, so much. I think I must
+belong to the tribe of creeping plants, which cling to whatever is
+nearest to them. Ashcroft grows daily more beautiful, and Thornton
+comes often to see me. We read together books that I like, (not Dante,)
+walk and sketch. We are on excellent terms, and call each other Cousin
+in view of our future relationship. I can talk more freely to him, now
+that Eleanor is not here,--and feel no disposition to hide my thoughts,
+now that I can keep them to myself, if I choose.
+
+"_July_ 24.--A week ago, one fair midsummer afternoon, we strolled to
+the knoll, and sat down under the blossoming boughs of the
+chestnut-tree.
+
+"'I think,' said I, 'this is the pleasantest place in all the grounds;
+but Eleanor never seemed willing to come here.'
+
+"'Eleanor has many unpleasant remembrances connected with the place,'
+replied Thornton. 'Her father's obstinate persistence in digging the
+well was a great annoyance to the whole household, and, unimaginative
+as Eleanor is, I fancy sometimes, from her avoidance of the spot, that
+she has some superstitious idea connected with the well,--that she
+fears through it some great misfortune may happen to some of the
+family.'
+
+"'I hardly see how that can be,' said I, rising and going to the brink
+of the well; 'it is very deep, but there was never any water in it.'
+
+"Just then I caught sight of a little flower growing out of the cleft
+of one of the stones. I knelt down and bent over to reach it. I
+slipped, I know not how, and should have fallen, had not Thornton
+sprung to my side and caught me.
+
+"'Ah, my foolish cousin!' said he, 'there needs not to be water in the
+well to make it a dangerous place. Promise me that you will not attempt
+such a thing again.'
+
+"'Not I,' said I, laughing gayly to conceal my fright,--for I did think
+I was about to break my neck on the stones below. 'There is no harm
+done, and I have got what I was after,'--and I held up the flower.
+
+"It was an ugly little thing, and looked not half so pretty in my hand
+as it did in the shadow of the well. I would not have gathered it, had
+I seen it growing by the roadside. 'Is it not pretty?'
+
+"'Humph!' said he, 'very!--worth breaking one's neck for!'
+
+"'I was about to offer it to you, but, since you despise it, I will
+keep it myself,'--and I stuck it into my hair.
+
+"Some time after, I missed the flower. I did not see it on the grass,
+but a leaf strangely similar peeped out of Thornton's waistcoat-pocket.
+When we passed by the well, on leaving the knoll, 'Promise me,' said he
+again, 'that you will not reach over the well for flowers any more.'
+
+"I was a little irritated at his pertinacity. 'I shall do no such
+thing,' returned I; 'you are growing as superstitious as Eleanor. On
+the contrary, I think I shall make a garden there and tend it every
+day; and whenever I go away from Ashcroft, I will leave something on
+the stone for you, to show how idle your fears are.'
+
+"Thornton did not answer. He was provoked, but showed his anger only by
+his silence. We sauntered back to the house in a different mood from
+that in which we had left it.
+
+"_August_ 4.--Thornton came into the library to-day with a letter from
+Eleanor. She cannot leave her brother, and wrote to Thornton about some
+papers that she wished sent to her without delay. They were in the
+drawer of the desk at which I was sitting. Thornton said he was in
+haste, as he wished to prepare the packet for the next mail. I rose at
+once. In his hurry he knocked the little japanned box on to the floor.
+Begging pardon for his awkwardness, he picked it up, and looked at it a
+moment to assure himself that it had suffered no damage.
+
+"'It is a curious little thing,' said he, 'and looks as if it were a
+hundred years old.'
+
+"'It belonged once to my grandmother, and held pearl-powder and rouge,'
+said I.
+
+"'And is used for the same purpose now?' inquired he.
+
+"'Yes,' returned I, my cheek reddening a little. 'I was just putting
+some on as you entered.'
+
+"'It must be very uncommon rouge,' remarked he, quietly fixing his eyes
+on me; 'it grows red after it is put on, and must require much care in
+the use of it.'
+
+"'I thought you were in a great hurry, Thornton, when you came in.'
+
+"'And so I am';--and he began undoing and separating papers, but every
+few moments he would steal a glance--a glance that made me feel
+uneasy--towards me, as I sat at the other window busying myself with my
+needle.
+
+"_August_ 25.--I wish Eleanor would come home. I sometimes think I will
+go away; but to leave Ashcroft now would imply a doubt of Thornton's
+honor, and impute thoughts to him which perhaps have no existence but
+in my vanity.
+
+"_October_ 3.--Ah, why was I so foolish? Why did I not go when I saw the
+danger so clearly, instead of cheating myself into the belief that
+there was none? Would that I had never come to Ashcroft, or had had the
+courage to leave it! These last six weeks, I do not know, I cannot
+tell, how they have been spent. Thornton was ever by my side, and
+I--did not wish him away. We sat this afternoon on the lawn under the
+great ash-tree,--the one under which he sat reading Dante to Eleanor
+the last day she was with us. The love which had burned in his eyes all
+day found utterance at last, and flamed out in fiery, passionate words.
+He drew me towards him. His vehemence frightened me, and I muttered
+something about Eleanor. It checked him for a moment, but, quickly
+recovering, he spoke freely of himself and of her,--of the love which
+had existed between them,--a feeling so feeble and so poor, compared to
+that which he felt for me, as to be unworthy of the name. He entreated,
+he implored my love. I was silent. He bent over me, gazing into my
+face. There was a traitor lurking in my heart, which looked out of my
+eyes, and spoke without my consent. He understood that language but too
+well. I bent my eyes upon the ground,--his arm was around my waist, his
+hand clasped mine, his lips approached my cheek. A shadow seemed
+suddenly to come between me and the sun. I looked up and saw Eleanor,
+clad in mourning, standing before us. I started at once to my feet,
+and, like the coward that I am, fled and left them together. I ran down
+to the old hawthorn-tree, against which I leaned, panting and
+trembling. Yet, in a few moments, ashamed of my weakness, I stole back
+to where I could see them unobserved. Eleanor stood upon the same spot,
+calm and motionless. Thornton was speaking, but I was too far off to
+hear more than the sound of his voice. When he had ended, he approached
+her, as if to bid her adieu; but she passed him with a stately bow, and
+entered the hall-door. Thornton took his way to the stables, and I soon
+heard the clattering of his horse's hoofs on the hard gravelled road.
+When the sound died away in the distance, I stole into the house and
+crept up to my chamber. How long I was there I could not tell; but when
+I heard the bell ring for tea, I washed my face and smoothed my hair.
+I would not be so cowardly as to fear to see Eleanor again, and perhaps
+it would be better for us both to meet in the presence of a third
+person.
+
+"Mrs. Bickford was alone at the table. 'Miss Purcill would not come
+down tonight,--she was fatigued with her journey.'
+
+"The good lady strove to entertain me with her conversation, but,
+finding that I neither heard, answered, nor ate, our meal was soon
+brought to a close. It is long past midnight. I have thought till I am
+sick and giddy with thinking. I cannot sleep, and have been writing
+here to control the wildness of my imaginings. I have been twice to
+Eleanor's chamber. The door is half ground-glass, and I can see her
+black shadow as she walks to and fro across the room. She has been
+walking so ever since she entered it.
+
+"_October_ 4.--What shall I do? Where shall I go? All night and all day
+Eleanor has walked her chamber-floor. I have been to the door. I have
+knocked. I have called her by name. I have turned the handle,--the door
+is locked. No answer comes to me,--nothing but the black shadow
+flitting across the panes. I sat down by the threshold and burst into
+tears.
+
+"Mrs. Bickford found me there. 'Do not grieve so, Miss Elizabeth,' said
+she, kindly. 'It is dreadful, I know; but Miss Purcill walked the floor
+all night after her father died, and would admit no one to her room.
+She will be better to-morrow.'
+
+"I shook my head. Could I believe that grief for the dead, and not
+sorrow for the conduct of the living, moved her thus, I should be
+happy. Then I could offer consolation and sympathy; but now, if I saw
+her, what could I say? Pity, sorrow for her grief, would be but idle
+words, which she would spurn with contempt,--and she would be right.
+There is but one thing left for me,--I must go from Ashcroft; then,
+perhaps, she and Thornton--But no, it cannot be; so wide asunder, they
+cannot come together again. And do I wish it? Is not his love as much
+mine now as it ever was hers? Ah, how some words once spoken cannot be
+forgotten! Before me now is the little picture of Hagar, which Eleanor
+had framed and hung in the library. Did she place it before my eyes as
+a warning to me? In Hagar's fate I see my own; for even now I hear
+Eleanor asking if the passion of a few hours is to thrust aside the
+love of long years. The bondmaid will go ere she is driven out. But
+Thornton--I cannot, will not, see him again. He has written to me
+to-day, saying that he cannot come here, and asking me to meet him at
+the well to-morrow. By that time I shall be far on my way to Madge. He
+will wait for me, and I shall not come. How can I leave him thus? He
+will believe me heartless and cruel. I grieve even now for his pain and
+grief. He will think that I did not love, but only sported with him.
+How dearly I love him words cannot tell; and I go that his way may be
+smoother, and that in my absence he may find--peace at last. A little
+dried flower lies on the page that I turned. It is one of those that
+grew in the well, that I wore on my bosom one day, that he might see
+and know it, and chide me for having been there again. His chiding was
+sweeter to me than others' praise. I will not be so unjust to myself. I
+will not go without one word. I jestingly told him once I would leave a
+token for him on the stone in the well when I went away from Ashcroft.
+I will put my journal there. He will see the box and remember it. He
+will learn that I have gone, and will know that I love, but that I
+leave and renounce him."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The remaining pages of the book were blank. Elizabeth Purcill's journal
+was ended. Bradford was busy with conjectures. Why had not Thornton
+found and kept the journal intended for him? Had it fallen at once to
+the bottom of the well, and lain there for years, while he waited in
+vain for her coming or her token? Her departure had not brought Eleanor
+Purcill and Thornton Lee together; for his aunt still remained
+unwedded, and he came every Sunday to the village church, with a sweet
+matronly-faced woman on his arm, and two children by his side.
+
+Bradford thrust the journal into his pocket, took up his fishing-rod
+and basket, and sauntered towards the village. He thought he remembered
+the name of Elizabeth Purcill on a head-stone in the church-yard. He
+opened the little wicket and went in. The setting sun threw the long
+shadows of the head-stones across the thick, rank grass. The sounds of
+the village children at play on the green came to his ear softened and
+mellowed by the distance.
+
+He turned towards the spot where, year after year, the Purcills had
+been gathered,--those who had died in their beds in their native town,
+and those who had perished in far-off climes, and whose bones had been
+brought to moulder by the old church-wall. He found the stone, and,
+bending down, read, "Elizabeth Purcill, died Oct. 5th, 18--, aged 19."
+Bradford opened the journal and looked at the last date. She had died,
+then, the day after the journal was ended. But how, and where?
+
+He sat down on the flat stone which covered his grandfather, and turned
+over the pages again, as if they could tell him more than he already
+knew. So absorbed was he, that he did not see a woman who a few minutes
+afterwards knelt down before the same stone, and with a sickle began to
+cut away the weeds and grass.
+
+Bradford looked up at last, and, as the woman raised her head for an
+instant, saw that it was Mrs. Bickford. He approached her and called
+her by name. She gave a little start, as she heard his voice.
+
+"Why, Master Bradford, who would have thought of seeing you here at
+this time?"
+
+Bradford smiled. "Whose grave is this that you are taking such pains to
+clear?"
+
+She pointed to the name with her sickle.
+
+"Yes, I know all that that can tell me. But who was Elizabeth
+Purcill?--what relation was she to me?--and how came she to die so
+young, and to be buried here?"
+
+"Why do you think I should know?" she replied. "People often die young;
+and no matter where the Purcills die, they all wish to come here at
+last;--that one died in Cuba,--that in France,--that in Greece,--and
+that at sea." And she turned her hand towards them, as she spoke.
+
+"But you do not care for their graves; look, how the grass and weeds
+nod over that tombstone; and you would not clear this, unless you knew
+something about the girl that lies underneath it."
+
+"It is an old story," said she, with a sigh, "and I can tell you but
+little of it." She laid her sickle down on the cut grass and sat down
+by it.
+
+"Elizabeth Purcill was the daughter of your grandfather's brother, and
+therefore your father's cousin. Long as I have lived in the family, I
+never saw him; for he went to India, while a young man, to seek a
+fortune, which was found too late to benefit either himself or his
+children. Elizabeth, his eldest daughter, was sent home for her
+education, and lived first with one of her kinsfolk, and then another,
+as her father's whims or their convenience dictated. You remember,
+though so young, when your Aunt Eleanor came to your father's house on
+her way to your Uncle Erasmus in his last illness?"
+
+Bradford nodded.
+
+"A little before that time Elizabeth Purcill came to Ashcroft. She was
+a pretty, lively girl, and it was pleasant to see in our sober
+household one who had time to be idle and could laugh. Your Aunt
+Eleanor was always a busy woman,--busier then than she is now,--and had
+no time for mirth. Every servant in the house liked Miss Elizabeth for
+her sunny smile and her pleasant ways. Shortly afterwards, Thornton Lee
+came home. He had been three years in Africa, and he and your aunt were
+to be married in the autumn.
+
+"When Miss Purcill went away, Mr. Lee remained, and came often to see
+Miss Elizabeth. She had a winsome face, that few men could look upon
+and not love; and I sometimes thought, when I saw them together, how
+much better she was suited to Mr. Lee than your Aunt Eleanor, and
+wondered if he had not found it out himself. Your aunt was away a long
+time, and, by some mistake, the letter, saying that she was coming
+home, did not reach us till the day after her arrival.
+
+"It was a beautiful October afternoon. I had been gathering the grapes
+that grew on the garden wall, and was carrying a basket of them to Miss
+Elizabeth, whom I had seen, half an hour before, with Mr. Lee, on the
+lawn. As I was crossing the hall, Miss Purcill, dressed in deep
+mourning, looking ghastly pale, entered the front door. I started as if
+I had seen a ghost, and dropped my basket. Miss Eleanor passed me
+quickly and went up-stairs. I spoke to her. She did not answer, but,
+entering her chamber, fastened the door behind her.
+
+"I looked out of the window. No one was on the lawn; but presently I
+saw Mr. Lee coming out of the stable, leading his horse. He mounted and
+was out of sight in an instant. Miss Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
+What had happened I could not tell. I could only guess.
+
+"Miss Elizabeth was the only one who came to tea, and her eyes were
+heavy and dull, and she seemed like one in a dream. That night was a
+wretched one to both. When I went to the library to see if the windows
+were fastened for the night, Miss Elizabeth sat by the smouldering fire
+with her face buried in her hands. I shut the door softly and left her,
+and till I slept I heard Miss Eleanor's steps across her chamber-floor.
+
+"The day was no better than the night. Miss Purcill did not leave her
+room, and her cousin wandered about the house, as if her thoughts would
+not let her rest. Once I found her in tears at your aunt's door, and
+tried to console her; but she shook her head impatiently, as if I could
+not understand the cause of her grief.
+
+"The next morning, while I was dressing, my niece Sally came to me in
+great haste, saying that Roger, the gardener, wished to see me at once.
+I hurried on my clothes and went down. I knew by the man's face that
+something dreadful had happened; but when he told me that he had been
+to the old well, and had found Miss Elizabeth lying dead at the bottom
+of it, I felt as if I was stunned.
+
+"I roused myself at last. I ran to Miss Purcill's door. I shook it
+violently and called her by name. She came and opened the door in her
+night-dress. Somehow, I know not and cared not how, for it seemed to me
+that she had something to do with all this, I told her that her Cousin
+Elizabeth was lying dead at the bottom of the old well. She staggered
+and leaned against the door like one who had received a heavy blow. For
+a moment I repented my roughness. But she was soon herself again. She
+thrust her feet into her slippers, and, wrapping her dressing-gown
+about her, went down-stairs, and gave directions, as calmly and
+collectedly as if she were (Heaven help her!) ordering a dinner for the
+men--to bring the body home. Ah, me! I never shall forget how the poor
+thing looked when the four men who bore the litter set it down on the
+library-floor. A bruise on the temple showed where she had struck on
+the cruel stones. The hoarfrost, which had turned into drops of dew,
+glittered among her soft brown curls."
+
+The tears which had been gathering in Mrs. Bickford's eyes fell in
+large drops into her lap as she went on.
+
+"On the day of the funeral, she lay in the library, still and cold in
+her coffin. I had gathered a few flowers, with which I was vainly
+trying to cheat death into looking more like life, by placing them on
+her bosom and in her stiffened fingers. Miss Eleanor sat at the foot of
+the coffin, almost as motionless as the form within it. I had finished
+my task and turned away, when the door opened and Mr. Lee came in
+silently. A slight shudder went through him, as he came to the coffin
+and bent over it. What a change had three days made in the man! Ten
+years would not have taken so much youth and life from him and made him
+look so old and wan. He looked upon her as a man who looks his last
+upon what he loved best in the world;--his whole soul was in his eyes.
+
+"I think he did not see Miss Eleanor till he was about to leave the
+room. She had not spoken, and he was unconscious of her presence. He
+turned towards her and held out his hand; his lips moved, but no words
+escaped them. I heard Miss Purcill's low, unfaltering answer to his
+unspoken thoughts. She did not take his proffered hand, but said,
+'Nothing can unite us again, Thornton,--not even death.'
+
+"His hand dropped by his side;--he quickly left the room, and never
+came to Ashcroft again. When I went to take a last look of Miss
+Elizabeth, I saw that the white rose which I had placed in her hand was
+gone;--he had taken it."
+
+Mrs. Bickford paused. Her story was ended. In a few minutes she took up
+her sickle again, and Bradford stood leaning against the head-stone
+till the grass was all cut on the grave. He had no more questions to
+ask,--for the journal had told him more of the dead below, than Mrs.
+Bickford, with all her love and sympathy, could do. She had fallen into
+the well, then, while endeavoring to place the box on the stone. When
+Mrs. Bickford's task was done, she walked silently back to Ashcroft
+with Bradford.
+
+Late in the evening he was alone in the library with his Aunt Eleanor.
+The picture of Hagar, now so full of interest to him, still hung on the
+wall, and the little desk was at the window which looked out upon the
+lawn. Should he show the journal to his aunt, or keep it to himself?
+Would Elizabeth Purcill wish her Cousin Eleanor to read her written
+words as she once read her untold thoughts?
+
+Wrapped up in his own musings, he started suddenly when Miss Purcill
+said to him, "Rosamond tells me that you found a book to-day in the old
+well; what was it?"--and answered promptly, "It was Elizabeth Purcill's
+journal."
+
+It was the first time Eleanor had heard the name for years. She showed
+no signs of emotion. "I should like to see it," said she; "give it to
+me."
+
+Bradford had been brought up in such habits of obedience, that he never
+thought of disputing his aunt's command. He drew the journal from his
+pocket and handed it to her without speaking.
+
+"You have read it?" said she, fixing her keen eyes upon him.
+
+"Yes."
+
+She drew the lamp towards her and opened the book. The shade on the
+lamp kept the light from her face; but had Bradford seen it, it would
+have told him no more of the thoughts beneath it than the stone in the
+churchyard had told him of Elizabeth Purcill.
+
+He watched her turning over the leaves slowly, and thought that her
+hand trembled a little at the close. Those pages must have stirred many
+a memory and many a grief, as the wind shakes the bare boughs of the
+trees, though blossom, fruit, and leaves have long since fallen.
+
+She closed the book, and spoke at last:--"I think, Bradford, this book
+belongs rightfully but to one person,--Mr. Thornton Lee. Shall I send
+it to him?"
+
+Eleanor's question was uttered in a tone that seemed to admit of but
+one reply. Bradford assented. If he might not keep the journal himself,
+he would rather Thornton Lee should have it than his aunt.
+
+The next day, Thornton Lee received a small packet, accompanied by a
+note which ran thus:--
+
+"To do justice to the memory of one who, years ago, came between us, I
+send you this little book, found in the old well yesterday. From it you
+will learn how she came by her death, and--how much she loved you.
+ELEANOR PURCILL."
+
+As Thornton Lee read the journal, his children climbed his knee and
+twined his gray curls around their fingers, and his wife came and
+leaned sportively over his shoulder and looked at the yellow leaves.
+
+In some lives, as in some years, there is an after-summer; but in
+others, the hoar-frosts are succeeded by the winter snow.
+
+
+THE DEAD HOUSE.
+
+  Here once my step was quickened,
+    Here beckoned the opening door,
+  And welcome thrilled from the threshold
+    To the foot it had felt before.
+
+  A glow came forth to meet me
+    From the flame that laughed in the grate,
+  And shadows a-dance on the ceiling
+    Danced blither with mine for a mate.
+
+  "I claim you, old friend," yawned the arm-chair,--
+    "This corner, you know, is your seat."
+  "Rest your slippers on me," beamed the fender,--
+    "I brighten at touch of your feet."
+
+  "We know the practised finger,"
+    Said the books, "that seems like brain";
+  And the shy page rustled the secret
+    It had kept till I came again.
+
+  Sang the pillow, "My down once quivered
+    On nightingales' throats that flew
+  Through moonlit gardens of Hafiz
+    To gather quaint dreams for you."
+
+  Ah, me, where the Past sowed heart's-ease,
+    The Present plucks rue for us men!
+  I come back: that scar unhealing
+    Was not in the churchyard then.
+
+  But, I think, the house is unaltered;
+    I will go and beg to look
+  At the rooms that were once familiar
+    To my life as its bed to a brook.
+
+  Unaltered! Alas for the sameness
+    That makes the change but more!
+  'Tis a dead man I see in the mirrors,
+    'Tis his tread that chills the floor!
+
+  To learn such a simple lesson
+    Need I go to Paris and Rome,--
+  That the many make a household,
+    But only one the home?
+
+  'Twas just a womanly presence,
+    An influence unexprest,--
+  But a rose she had worn on my grave-sod
+    Were more than long life with the rest!
+
+  'Twas a smile, 'twas a garment's rustle,
+    'Twas nothing that I can phrase,--
+  But the whole dumb dwelling grew conscious,
+    And put on her looks and ways.
+
+  Were it mine, I would close the shutters,
+    Like lids when the life is fled,
+  And the funeral fire should wind it,
+    This corpse of a home that is dead.
+
+  For it died that autumn morning
+    When she, its soul, was borne
+  To lie all dark on the hillside
+    That looks over woodland and corn.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+THE AUTOCRAT OF THE BREAKFAST-TABLE.
+
+EVERY MAN HIS OWN BOSWELL.
+
+[I did not think it probable that I should have a great many more talks
+with our company, and therefore I was anxious to get as much as I could
+into every conversation. That is the reason why you will find some odd,
+miscellaneous facts here, which I wished to tell at least once, as I
+should not have a chance to tell them habitually, at our
+breakfast-table.--We're very free and easy, you know; we don't read
+what we don't like. Our parish is so large, one can't pretend to preach
+to all the pews at once. Besides, one can't be all the time trying to
+do the best of one's best; if a company works a steam fire-engine, the
+firemen needn't be straining themselves all day to squirt over the top
+of the flagstaff. Let them wash some of those lower-story windows a
+little. Besides, there is no use in our quarrelling now, as you will
+find out when you get through this paper.]
+
+----Travel, according to my experience, does not exactly correspond to
+the idea one gets of it out of most books of travels. I am thinking of
+travel as it was when I made the Grand Tour, especially in Italy.
+Memory is a net; one finds it full of fish when he takes it from the
+brook; but a dozen miles of water have run through it without sticking.
+I can prove some facts about travelling by a story or two. There are
+certain principles to be assumed,--such as these:--He who is carried by
+horses must deal with rogues.--To-day's dinner subtends a larger visual
+angle than yesterday's revolution. A mote in my eye is bigger to me
+than the biggest of Dr. Gould's private planets.--Every traveller is a
+self-taught entomologist.--Old jokes are dynamometers of mental
+tension; an old joke tells better among friends travelling than at
+home,--which shows that their minds are in a state of diminished,
+rather than increased vitality. There was a story about "strahps to
+your pahnts," which was vastly funny to us fellows--on the road from
+Milan to Venice.--_Coelum, non animum_,--travellers change their
+guineas, but not their characters. The bore is the same, eating dates
+under the cedars of Lebanon, as over a plate of baked beans in Beacon
+Street.--Parties of travellers have a morbid instinct for "establishing
+raws" upon each other.--A man shall sit down with his friend at the
+foot of the Great Pyramid and they will take up the question they had
+been talking about under "the great elm," and forget all about Egypt.
+When I was crossing the Po, we were all fighting about the propriety of
+one fellow's telling another that his argument was _absurd_; one
+maintaining it to be a perfectly admissible logical term, as proved by
+the phrase, "reductio ad absurdum"; the rest badgering him as a
+conversational bully. Mighty little we troubled ourselves for _Padus_,
+the Po, "a river broader and more rapid than the Rhone," and the times
+when Hannibal led his grim Africans to its banks, and his elephants
+thrust their trunks into the yellow waters over which that pendulum
+ferry-boat was swinging back and forward every ten minutes!
+
+----Here are some of those reminiscences, with morals prefixed, or
+annexed, or implied.
+
+Lively emotions very commonly do not strike us full in front, but
+obliquely from the side; a scene or incident in _undress_ often affects
+more than one in full costume.
+
+  "Is this the mighty ocean?--is this all?"
+
+says the Princess in Gebir. The rush that should have flooded my soul
+in the Coliseum did not come. But walking one day in the fields about
+the city, I stumbled over a fragment of broken masonry, and lo! the
+World's Mistress in her stone girdle--_alta maenia Romae_--rose before
+me and whitened my cheek with her pale shadow as never before or since.
+
+I used very often, when coming home from my morning's work at one of
+the public institutions of Paris, to stop in at the dear old church of
+St. Etienne du Mont. The tomb of St. Genevieve, surrounded by burning
+candles and votive tablets, was there; the mural tablet of Jacobus
+Benignus Winslow was there; there was a noble organ with carved
+figures; the pulpit was borne on the oaken shoulders of a stooping
+Samson; and there was a marvellous staircase like a coil of lace. These
+things I mention from memory, but not all of them together impressed me
+so much as an inscription on a small slab of marble fixed in one of the
+walls. It told how this church of St. Stephen was repaired and
+beautified in the year 16**, and how, during the celebration of its
+reopening, two girls of the parish (_filles de la paroisse_) fell from
+the gallery, carrying a part of the balustrade with them, to the
+pavement, but by a miracle escaped uninjured. Two young girls,
+nameless, but real presences to my imagination, as much as when they
+came fluttering down on the tiles with a cry that outscreamed the
+sharpest treble in the Te Deum! (Look at Carlyle's article on Boswell,
+and see how he speaks of the poor young woman Johnson talked with in
+the streets one evening.) All the crowd gone but these two "filles de
+la paroisse,"--gone as utterly as the dresses they wore, as the shoes
+that were on their feet, as the bread and meat that were in the market
+on that day.
+
+Not the great historical events, but the personal incidents that call
+up single sharp pictures of some human being in its pang or struggle,
+reach us most nearly. I remember the platform at Berne, over the
+parapet of which Theobald Weinzaepfli's restive horse sprung with him
+and landed him more than a hundred feet beneath in the lower town, not
+dead, but sorely broken, and no longer a wild youth, but God's servant
+from that day forward. I have forgotten the famous bears, and all
+else.--I remember the Percy lion on the bridge over the little river at
+Alnwick,--the leaden lion with his tail stretched out straight like a
+pump-handle,--and why? Because of the story of the village boy who must
+fain bestride the leaden tail, standing out over the water,--which
+breaking, he dropped into the stream far below, and was taken out an
+idiot for the rest of his life.
+
+Arrow-heads must be brought to a sharp point, and the guillotine-axe
+must have a slanting edge. Something intensely human, narrow, and
+definite pierces to the seat of our sensibilities more readily than
+huge occurrences and catastrophes. A nail will pick a lock that defies
+hatchet and hammer. "The Royal George" went down with all her crew, and
+Cowper wrote an exquisitely simple poem about it; but the leaf that
+holds it is smooth, while that which bears the lines on his mother's
+portrait is blistered with tears.
+
+My telling these recollections sets me thinking of others of the same
+kind that strike the imagination, especially when one is still young.
+You remember the monument in Devizes market to the woman struck dead
+with a lie in her mouth. I never saw that, but it is in the books. Here
+is one I never heard mentioned;--if any of the "Note and Query" tribe
+can tell the story, I hope they will. Where is this monument? I was
+riding on an English stage-coach when we passed a handsome marble
+column (as I remember it) of considerable size and pretensions.--What
+is that?--I said.--That,--answered the coachman,--is _the hangman's
+pillar_. Then he told me how a man went out one night, many years ago,
+to steal sheep. He caught one, tied its legs together, passed the rope
+over his head, and started for home. In climbing a fence, the rope
+slipped, caught him by the neck, and strangled him. Next morning he was
+found hanging dead on one side of the fence and the sheep on the other;
+in memory whereof the lord of the manor caused this monument to be
+erected as a warning to all who love mutton better than virtue. I will
+send a copy of this record to him or her who shall first set me right
+about this column and its locality.
+
+And telling over these old stories reminds me that I have something
+that may interest architects and perhaps some other persons. I once
+ascended the spire of Strasburg Cathedral, which is the highest, I
+think, in Europe. It is a shaft of stone filigree-work, frightfully
+open, so that the guide puts his arms behind you to keep you from
+falling. To climb it is a noon-day nightmare, and to think of having
+climbed it crisps all the fifty-six joints of one's twenty digits.
+While I was on it, "pinnacled dim in the intense inane," a strong wind
+was blowing, and I felt sure that the spire was rocking. It swayed back
+and forward like a stalk of rye or a cat-o'nine-tails (bulrush) with a
+bobolink on it. I mentioned it to the guide, and he said that the spire
+did really swing back and forward,--I think he said some feet.
+
+Keep any line of knowledge ten years and some other line will intersect
+it. Long afterwards I was hunting out a paper of Dumeril's in an old
+journal,--the "Magazin Encyclopedique" for _l'an troisieme_, (1795,)
+when I stumbled upon a brief article on the vibrations of the spire of
+Strasburg Cathedral. A man can shake it so that the movement shall be
+shown in a vessel of water nearly seventy feet below the summit, and
+higher up the vibration is like that of an earthquake. I have seen one
+of those wretched wooden spires with which we very shabbily finish some
+of our stone churches (thinking that the lidless blue eye of heaven
+cannot tell the counterfeit we try to pass on it) swinging like a reed,
+in a wind, but one would hardly think of such a thing's happening in a
+stone spire. Does the Bunker-Hill Monument bend in the blast like a
+blade of grass? I suppose.
+
+You see, of course, that I am talking in a cheap way;--perhaps we will
+have some philosophy by and by;--let me work out this thin mechanical
+vein.--I have something more to say about trees, I have brought down
+this slice of hemlock to show you. Tree blew down in my woods (that
+were) in 1852. Twelve feet and a half round, fair girth;--nine feet,
+where I got my section, higher up. This is a wedge, going to the
+centre, of the general shape of a slice of apple-pie in a large and not
+opulent family. Length, about eighteen inches. I have studied the
+growth of this tree by its rings, and it is curious. Three hundred and
+forty-two rings. Started, therefore, about 1510. The thickness of the
+rings tells the rate at which it grew. For five or six years the rate
+was slow,--then rapid for twenty years. A little before the year 1550
+it began to grow very slowly, and so continued for about seventy years.
+In 1620 it took a new start and grew fast until 1714; then for the most
+part slowly until 1786, when it started again and grew pretty well and
+uniformly until within the last dozen years, when it seems to have got
+on sluggishly.
+
+Look here. Here are some human lies laid down against the periods of
+its growth, to which they corresponded. This is Shakspeare's. The tree
+was seven inches in diameter when he was born; ten inches when he died.
+A little less than ten inches when Milton was born; seventeen when he
+died. Then comes a long interval, and this thread marks out Johnson's
+life, during which the tree increased from twenty-two to twenty-nine
+inches in diameter. Here is the span of Napoleon's career;--the tree
+doesn't seem to have minded it.
+
+I never saw the man yet who was not startled at looking on this
+section. I have seen many wooden preachers,--never one like this. How
+much more striking would be the calendar counted on the rings of one of
+those awful trees which were standing when Christ was on earth, and
+where that brief mortal life is chronicled with the stolid apathy of
+vegetable being, which remembers all human history as a thing of
+yesterday in its own dateless existence!
+
+I have something more to say about elms. A relative tells me there is
+one of great glory in Andover, near Bradford. I have some recollections
+of the former place, pleasant and other. [I wonder if the old Seminary
+clock strikes as slowly as it used to. My room-mate thought, when he
+first came, it was the bell tolling deaths, and people's ages, as they
+do in the country. He swore--(ministers' sons get so familiar with good
+words that they are apt to handle them carelessly)--that the children
+were dying by the dozen, of all ages, from one to twelve, and ran off
+next day in recess, when it began to strike eleven, but was caught
+before the clock got through striking.] At the foot of "the hill," down
+in town, is, or was, a tidy old elm, which was said to have been hooped
+with iron to protect it from Indian tomahawks, (_Credat Hahnemannus_,)
+and to have grown round its hoops and buried them in its wood. Of
+course, this is not the tree my relative means.
+
+Also, I have a very pretty letter from Norwich, in Connecticut, telling
+me of two noble elms which are to be seen in that town. One hundred and
+twenty-seven feet from bough-end to bough-end! What do you say to that?
+And gentle ladies beneath it, that love it and celebrate its praises!
+And that in a town of such supreme, audacious, Alpine loveliness as
+Norwich!--Only the dear people there must learn to call it Norridge,
+and not be misled by the mere accident of spelling.
+
+  Nor_wich_.
+  Por_ch_mouth.
+  Cincinnat_ah_.
+
+What a sad picture of our civilization!
+
+I did not speak to you of the great tree on what used to be the Colman
+farm, in Deerfield, simply because I had not seen it for many years,
+and did not like to trust my recollection. But I had it in memory, and
+even noted down, as one of the finest trees in symmetry and beauty I
+had ever seen. I have received a document, signed by two citizens of a
+neighboring town, certified by the postmaster and a selectman, and
+these again corroborated, reinforced, and sworn to by a member of that
+extraordinary college-class to which it is the good fortune of my
+friend the Professor to belong, who, though he has _formerly_ been a
+member of Congress, is, I believe, fully worthy of confidence. The tree
+"girts" eighteen and a half feet, and spreads over a hundred, and is a
+real beauty. I hope to meet my friend under its branches yet; if we
+don't have "youth at the prow," we will have "pleasure at the 'elm."
+
+And just now, again, I have got a letter about some grand willows in
+Maine, and another about an elm in Wayland, but too late for anything
+but thanks.
+
+[And this leads me to say, that I have received a great many
+communications, in prose and verse, since I began printing these notes.
+The last came this very morning, in the shape of a neat and brief poem,
+from New Orleans. I could not make any of them public, though sometimes
+requested to do so. Some of them have given me great pleasure, and
+encouraged me to believe I had friends whose faces I had never seen. If
+you are pleased with anything a writer says, and doubt whether to tell
+him of it, do not hesitate; a pleasant word is a cordial to one, who
+perhaps thinks he is tiring you, and so becomes tired himself. I purr
+very loud over a good, honest letter that says pretty things to me.]
+
+----Sometimes very young persons send communications, which they want
+forwarded to editors; and these young persons do not always seem to
+have right conceptions of these same editors, and of the public, and of
+themselves. Here is a letter I wrote to one of these young folks, but,
+on the whole, thought it best not to send. It is not fair to single out
+one for such sharp advice, where there are hundreds that are in need of
+it.
+
+Dear Sir,--You seem to be somewhat, but not a great deal, wiser than I
+was at your age. I don't wish to be understood as saying too much, for
+I think, without committing myself to any opinion on my present state,
+that I was not a Solomon at that stage of development.
+
+You long to "leap at a single bound into celebrity." Nothing is so
+common-place as to wish to be remarkable. Fame usually comes to those
+who are thinking about something else,--very rarely to those who say to
+themselves, "Go to, now, let us be a celebrated individual!" The
+struggle for fame, as such, commonly ends in notoriety;--that ladder is
+easy to climb, but it leads to pillory which is crowded with fools who
+could not hold their tongues and rogues who could not hide their
+tricks.
+
+If you have the consciousness of genius, do something to show it. The
+world is pretty quick, nowadays, to catch the flavor of true
+originality; if you write anything remarkable, the magazines and
+newspapers will find you out, as the school-boys find out where the
+ripe apples and pears are. Produce anything really good, and an
+intelligent editor will jump at it. Don't flatter yourself that any
+article of yours is rejected because you are unknown to fame. Nothing
+pleases an editor more than to get anything worth having from a new
+hand. There is always a dearth of really fine articles for a first-rate
+journal; for, of a hundred pieces received, ninety are at or below the
+sea-level; some have water enough, but no head; some head enough, but
+no water; only two or three are from full reservoirs, high up that hill
+which is so hard to climb.
+
+You may have genius. The contrary is of course probable, but it is not
+demonstrated. If you have, the world wants you more than you want it.
+It not only a desire, but a passion, for every spark of genius that
+shows itself among us; there is not a bull-calf in our national pasture
+that can bleat a rhyme but it is ten to one, among his friends and no
+takers, that he is the real, genuine, no-mistake Osiris.
+
+_Qu'est ce qu'il a fait?_ What has he done? That was Napoleon's test.
+What have you done? Turn up the faces of your picture-cards, my boy!
+You need not make mouths at the public because it has not accepted you
+at your own fancy-valuation. Do the prettiest thing you can and wait
+your time.
+
+For the verses you send me, I will not say they are hopeless, and I
+dare not affirm that they show promise. I am not an editor, but I know
+the standard of a some editors. You must not expect to "leap with a
+single bound" into the society of those whom it is not flattery to call
+your betters. When "The Paetolian" has paid you for a copy of
+verses,--(I can furnish you a list of alliterative signatures,
+beginning with Annie Aureole and ending with Zoe Zenith,)--when "The
+Ragbag" has stolen your piece, after carefully scratching your name
+out,--when "The Nut-cracker" has thought you worth shelling, and strung
+the kernel of your cleverest poem,--then, and not till then, you may
+consider the presumption against you, from the fact of your rhyming
+tendency, as called in question, and let our friends hear from you, if
+you think it worth while. You may possibly think me too candid, and
+even accuse me of incivility; but let me assure you that I am not half
+so plain-spoken as Nature, nor half so rude as Time. If you prefer the
+long jolting of public opinion to the gentle touch of friendship, try
+it like a man. Only remember this,--that, if a bushel of potatoes is
+shaken in a market-cart without springs to it, the small potatoes
+always get to the bottom.
+
+Believe me, etc., etc.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I always think of verse-writers, when I am in this vein; for these are
+by far the most exacting, eager, self-weighing, restless, querulous,
+unreasonable literary persons one is like to meet with. Is a young man
+in the habit of writing verses? Then the presumption is that he is an
+inferior person. For, look you, there are at least nine chances in ten
+that he writes _poor_ verses. Now the habit of chewing on rhymes
+without sense and soul to match them is, like that of using any other
+narcotic, at once a proof of feebleness and a debilitating agent. A
+young man can get rid of the presumption against him afforded by his
+writing verses only by convincing us that they are verses worth
+writing.
+
+All this sounds hard and rough, but, observe, it is not addressed to
+any individual, and of course does not refer to any reader of these
+pages. I would always treat any given young person passing through the
+meteoric showers which rain down on the brief period of adolescence
+with great tenderness. God forgive us, if we ever speak harshly to
+young creatures on the strength of these ugly truths, and so, sooner or
+later, smite some tender-souled poet or poetess on the lips who might
+have sung the world into sweet trances, had we not silenced the
+matin-song in its first low breathings! Just as my heart yearns over
+the unloved, just so it sorrows for the ungifted who are doomed to the
+pangs of an undeceived self-estimate. I have always tried to be gentle
+with the most hopeless cases. My experience, however, has not been
+encouraging.
+
+----X. Y., aet. 18, a cheaply-got-up youth, with narrow jaws, and
+broad, bony, cold, red hands, having been laughed at by the girls in
+his village, and "got the mitten" (pronounced mittin) two or three
+times, falls to souling and controlling, and youthing and training, in
+the newspapers. Sends me some strings of verses, candidates for the
+Orthopedic Infirmary, all of them, in which I learn for the millionth
+time one of the following facts: either that something about a chime is
+sublime, or that something about time is sublime, or that something
+about a chime is concerned with time, or that something about a rhyme
+is sublime or concerned with time or with a chime. Wishes my opinion of
+the same, with advice as to his future course.
+
+What shall I do about it? Tell him the whole truth, and send him a
+ticket of admission to the Institution for Idiots and Feeble-minded
+Youth? One doesn't like to be cruel,--and yet one hates to lie.
+Therefore one softens down the ugly central fact of donkeyism,
+--recommends study of good models,--that writing verse should
+be an incidental occupation only, not interfering with the hoe, the
+needle, the lapstone, or the ledger,--and, above all, that there should
+be no hurry in printing what is written. Not the least use in all this.
+The poetaster who has tasted type is done for. He is like the man who
+has once been a candidate for the Presidency. He feeds on the madder of
+his delusion all his days, and his very bones grow red with the glow of
+his foolish fancy. One of these young brains is like a bunch of India
+crackers; once touch fire to it and it is best to keep hands off until
+it has done popping,--if it ever stops. I have two letters on file; one
+is a pattern of adulation, the other of impertinence. My reply to the
+first, containing the best advice I could give, conveyed in courteous
+language, had brought out the second. There was some sport in this, but
+Dulness is not commonly a game fish, and only sulks after he is struck.
+You may set it down as a truth which admits of few exceptions, that
+those who ask your _opinion_ really want your _praise_, and will be
+contented with nothing less.
+
+There is another kind of application to which editors, or those
+supposed to have access to them, are liable, and which often proves
+trying and painful. One is appealed to in behalf of some person in
+needy circumstances who wishes to make a living by the pen. A
+manuscript accompanying the letter is offered for publication. It is
+not commonly brilliant, too often lamentably deficient. If Rachel's
+saying is true, that "fortune is the measure of intelligence," then
+poverty is evidence of limited capacity, which it too frequently proves
+to be, notwithstanding a noble exception here and there. Now an editor
+is a person under a contract with the public to furnish them with the
+best things he can afford for his money. Charity shown by the
+publication of an inferior article would be like the generosity of
+Claude Duval and the other gentlemen highwaymen, who pitied the poor so
+much they robbed the rich to have the means of relieving them.
+
+Though I am not and never was an editor, I know something of the trials
+to which they are submitted. They have nothing to do but to develope
+enormous calluses at every point of contact with authorship. Their
+business is not a matter of sympathy, but of intellect. They must
+reject the unfit productions of those whom they long to befriend,
+because it would be a profligate charity to accept them. One cannot
+burn his house down to warm the hands even of the fatherless and the
+widow.
+
+
+
+THE PROFESSOR UNDER CHLOROFORM.
+
+
+--You haven't heard about my friend the Professor's first experiment in
+the use of anaesthetics, have you?
+
+He was mightily pleased with the reception of that poem of his about
+the chaise. He spoke to me once or twice about another poem of similar
+character he wanted to read me, which I told him I would listen to and
+criticize.
+
+One day, after dinner, he came in with his face tied up, looking very
+red in the cheeks and heavy about the eyes.--Hy'r'ye?--he said, and
+made for an arm-chair, in which he placed first his hat and then his
+person, going smack through the crown of the former as neatly as they
+do the trick at the circus. The Professor jumped at the explosion as if
+he had sat down on one of those small _calthrops_ our grandfathers used
+to sow round in the grass when there were Indians about,--iron stars,
+each ray a rusty thorn an inch and a half long,--stick through
+moccasins into feet,--cripple 'em on the spot, and give 'em lockjaw in
+a day or two.
+
+The Professor let off one of those big words which lie at the bottom of
+the best man's vocabulary, but perhaps never turn up in his life,--just
+as every man's hair _may_ stand on end, but in most men it never does.
+
+After he had got calm, he pulled out a sheet or two of manuscript,
+together with a smaller scrap, on which, as he said, he had just been
+writing an introduction or prelude to the main performance. A certain
+suspicion had come into my mind that the Professor was not quite right,
+which was confirmed by the way he talked; but I let him begin. This is
+the way he read it:--
+
+_Prelude_.
+
+  I'm the fellah that tole one day
+  The tale of the won'erful one-hoss-shay.
+
+  Wan' to hear another? Say.
+  --Funny, wasn'it? Made _me_ laugh,--
+  I'm too modest, I am, by half,--
+  Made me laugh 's _though I sh'd split_,--
+  Cahn' a fellah like fellah's own wit?
+  --Fellahs keep sayin',--"Well, now that's nice;
+  Did it once, but cahn' do it twice."--
+  Don' you b'lieve the'z no more fat;
+  Lots in the kitch'n 'z good 'z that.
+  Fus'-rate throw, 'n' no mistake,--
+  Han' us the props for another shake;--
+  Know I'll try, 'n' guess I'll win;
+  Here sh' goes for hit 'm ag'in!
+
+Here I thought it necessary to interpose.--Professor,--I said,--you are
+inebriated. The style of what you call your "Prelude" shows that it was
+written under cerebral excitement. Your articulation is confused. You
+have told me three times in succession, in exactly the same words, that
+I was the only true friend you had in the world that you would unbutton
+your heart to. You smell distinctly and decidedly of spirits.--I spoke,
+and paused; tender, but firm.
+
+Two large tears orbed themselves beneath the Professor's lids,--in
+obedience to the principle of gravitation celebrated in that delicious
+bit of bladdery bathos, "The very law that moulds a tear," with which
+the "Edinburgh Review" attempted to put down Master George Gordon when
+that young man was foolishly trying to make himself conspicuous. One of
+these tears peeped over the edge of the lid until it lost its
+balance,--slid an inch and waited for reinforcements,--swelled
+again,--rolled down a little further,--stopped,--moved on,--and at last
+fell on the back of the Professor's hand. He held it up for me to look
+at, and lifted his eyes, brimful, till they met mine.
+
+I couldn't stand it,--I always break down when folks cry in my
+face,--so I hugged him, and said he was a dear old boy, and asked him
+kindly what was the matter with him, and what made him smell so
+dreadfully strong of spirits.
+
+Upset his alcohol lamp,--he said,--and spilt the alcohol on his legs.
+That was it.--But what had he been doing to get his head into such a
+state?--had he really committed an excess? What was the matter?--Then
+it came out that he had been taking chloroform to have a tooth out,
+which had left him in a very queer state, in which he had written the
+"Prelude" given above, and under the influence of which he evidently
+was still.
+
+I took the manuscript from his hands and read the following
+continuation of the lines he had begun to read me, while he made up for
+two or three nights' lost sleep as he best might.
+
+PARSON TURELL'S LEGACY:
+
+OR, THE PRESIDENT'S OLD ARM-CHAIR.
+
+  Facts respecting an old arm-chair.
+  At Cambridge. Is kept in the College there.
+  Seems but little the worse for wear.
+  That's remarkable when I say
+  It was old in President Holyoke's day.
+  (One of his boys, perhaps you know,
+  Died, _at one hundred_, years ago.)
+  _He_ took lodging for rain or shine
+  Under green bed-clothes in '69.
+
+  Know old Cambridge? Hope you do.--
+  Born there? Don't say so! I was, too.
+  (Born in a house with a gambrel-roof,--
+  Standing still, if you must have proof.--
+  "Gambrel?--Gambrel?"--Let me beg
+  You'll look at a horse's hinder leg,--
+  First great angle above the hoof,--
+  That's the gambrel; hence gambrel-roof.)
+  --Nicest place that ever was seen,--
+  Colleges red and Common green,
+  Sidewalks brownish with trees between.
+  Sweetest spot beneath the skies
+  When the canker-worms don't rise,--
+  When the dust, that sometimes flies
+  Into your mouth and ears and eyes,
+  In a quiet slumber lies,
+  _Not_ in the shape of unbaked pies
+  Such as barefoot children prize.
+
+  A kind of harbor it seems to be,
+  Facing the flow of a boundless sea.
+  Bows of gray old Tutors stand
+  Ranged like rocks above the sand;
+  Rolling beneath them, soft and green,
+  Breaks the tide of bright sixteen,--
+  One wave, two waves, three waves, four,
+  Sliding up the sparkling floor;
+  Then it ebbs to flow no more,
+  Wandering off from shore to shore
+  With its freight of golden ore!
+  --Pleasant place for boys to play;--
+  Better keep your girls away;
+  Hearts get rolled as pebbles do
+  Which countless fingering waves pursue,
+  And every classic beach is strown
+  With heart-shaped pebbles of blood-red stone.
+
+  But this is neither here nor there;--
+  I'm talking about an old arm-chair.
+  You've heard, no doubt, of PARSON TURELL?
+  Over at Medford he used to dwell;
+  Married one of the Mather's folk;
+  Got with his wife a chair of oak,--
+  Funny old chair, with seat like wedge,
+  Sharp behind and broad front edge,--
+  One of the oddest of human things,
+  Turned all over with knobs and rings,--
+  But heavy, and wide, and deep, and grand,--
+  Fit for the worthies of the land,--
+  Chief-Justice Sewall a cause to try in,
+  Or Cotton Mather to sit--and lie--in,
+  --Parson Turell bequeathed the same
+  To a certain student,--SMITH by name;
+  These were the terms, as we are told:
+  "Saide Smith saide Chaire to have and holde;
+  When he doth graduate, then to passe
+  To ye oldest Youth in ye Senior Classe,
+  On payment of"--(naming a certain sum)--
+  "By him to whom ye Chaire shall come;
+  He to ye oldest Senior next,
+  And soe forever,"--(thus runs the text,)--
+  "But one Crown lesse then he gave to claime,
+  That being his Debte for use of same."
+
+  _Smith_ transferred it to one of the BROWNS,
+  And took his money,--five silver crowns.
+  _Brown_ delivered it up to MOORE,
+  Who paid, it is plain, not five, but four.
+  _Moore_ made over the chair to LEE,
+  Who gave him crowns of silver three.
+  _Lee_ conveyed it unto DREW,
+  And now the payment, of course, was two.
+  _Drew_ gave up the chair to DUNN,--
+  All he got, as you see, was one.
+  _Dunn_ released the chair to HALL,
+  And got by the bargain no crown at all.
+  --And now it passed to a second BROWN,
+  Who took it, and likewise _claimed a crown_.
+  When _Brown_ conveyed it unto WARE,
+  Having had one crown, to make it fair,
+  He paid him two crowns to take the chair;
+  And _Ware_, being honest, (as all Wares be,)
+  He paid one POTTER, who took it, three.
+  Four got ROBINSON; five got DIX;
+  JOHNSON _primus_ demanded six;
+  And so the sum kept gathering still
+  Till after the battle of Bunker's Hill.
+  --When paper money became so cheap,
+  Folks wouldn't count it, but said "a heap,"
+  A certain RICHARDS, the books declare,
+  (A.M. in '90? I've looked with care
+  Through the Triennial,--_name not there_,)
+  This person, Richards, was offered then
+  Eight score pounds, but would have ten;
+  Nine, I think, was the sum he took,--
+  Not quite certain,--but see the book.
+  --By and by the wars were still,
+  But nothing had altered the Parson's will.
+  The old arm-chair was solid yet,
+  But saddled with such a monstrous debt!
+  Things grew quite too bad to bear,
+  Paying such sums to get rid of the chair!
+  But dead men's fingers hold awful tight,
+  And there was the will in black and white,
+  Plain enough for a child to spell.
+  What should be done no man could tell,
+  For the chair was a kind of nightmare curse,
+  And every season but made it worse.
+
+  As a last resort, to clear the doubt,
+  They got old GOVERNOR HANCOCK out.
+  The Governor came with his Light-horse Troop
+  And his mounted trackmen, all cock-a-hoop;
+  Halberds glittered and colors flew,
+  French horns whinnied and trumpets blew,
+  The yellow fifes whistled between their teeth
+  And the bumble-bee bass-drums boomed beneath;
+  So he rode with all his band,
+  Till the President met him, cap in hand.
+  --The Governor "hefted" the crowns, and said,--
+  "A will is a will, and the Parson's dead."
+  The Governor hefted the crowns. Said he,--
+  "There is your p'int. And here's my fee.
+  These are the terms you must fulfil,--
+  On such conditions I BREAK THE WILL!"
+  The Governor mentioned what these should be.
+  (Just wait a minute and then you'll see.)
+  The President prayed. Then all was still,
+  And the Governor rose and BROKE THE WILL!
+  --"About those conditions?" Well, now you go
+  And do as I tell you, and then you'll know.
+  Once a year, on Commencement-day,
+  If you'll only take the pains to stay,
+  You'll see the President in the CHAIR,
+  Likewise the Governor sitting there.
+  The President rises; both old and young
+  May hear his speech in a foreign tongue,
+  The meaning whereof, as lawyers swear,
+  Is this: Can I keep this old arm-chair?
+  And then his Excellency bows,
+  As much as to say that he allows.
+  The Vice-Gub. next is called by name;
+  He bows like t'other, which means the same.
+  And all the officers round 'em bow,
+  As much as to say that _they_ allow.
+  And a lot of parchments about the chair
+  Are handed to witnesses then and there,
+  And then the lawyers hold it clear
+  That the chair is safe for another year.
+
+  God bless you, Gentlemen! Learn to give
+  Money to colleges while you live.
+  Don't be silly and think you'll try
+  To bother the colleges, when you die,
+  With codicil this, and codicil that,
+  That Knowledge may starve while Law grows fat;
+  For there never was pitcher that wouldn't spill,
+  And there's always a flaw in a donkey's will!
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+----Hospitality is a good deal a matter of latitude, I suspect. The
+shade of a palm-tree serves an African for a hut; his dwelling is all
+door and no walls; everybody can come in. To make a morning call on an
+Esquimaux acquaintance, one must creep through a long tunnel; his house
+is all walls and no door, except such a one as an apple with a
+worm-hole has. One might, very probably, trace a regular gradation
+between these two extremes. In cities where the evenings are generally
+hot, the people have porches at their doors, where they sit, and this
+is, of course, a provocative to the interchange of civilities. A good
+deal, which in colder regions is ascribed to mean dispositions, belongs
+really to mean temperature.
+
+Once in a while, even in our Northern cities, at noon, in a very hot
+summer's day, one may realize, by a sudden extension in his sphere of
+consciousness, how closely he is shut up for the most part.--Do you not
+remember something like this? July, between 1 and 2, P.M. Fahrenheit
+96 deg., or thereabout. Windows all gaping, like the mouths of panting
+dogs. Long, stinging cry of a locust comes in from a tree, half a mile
+off; had forgotten there was such a tree. Baby's screams from a house
+several blocks distant;--never knew of any babies in the neighborhood
+before. Tinman pounding something that clatters dreadfully,--very
+distinct, but don't know of any tinman's shop near by. Horses stamping
+on pavement to get off flies. When you hear these four sounds, you may
+set it down as a warm day. Then it is that one would like to imitate
+the mode of life of the native at Sierra Leone, as somebody has
+described it: stroll into the market in natural costume,--buy a
+watermelon for a halfpenny,--split it, and scoop out the middle,--sit
+down in one half of the empty rind, clap the other on one's head, and
+feast upon the pulp.
+
+----I see some of the London journals have been attacking some of
+their literary people for lecturing, on the ground of its being a
+public exhibition of themselves for money. A popular author can print
+his lecture; if he deliver it, it is a case of _quaestum corpore_, or
+making profit of his person. None but "snobs" do that. _Ergo_, etc. To
+this I reply,--_Negatur minor_. Her Most Gracious Majesty, the Queen,
+exhibits herself to the public as a part of the service for which she
+is paid. We do not consider it low-bred in her to pronounce her own
+speech, and should prefer it so to hearing it from any other person or
+reading it. His Grace and his Lordship exhibit themselves very often
+for popularity, and their houses every day for money.--No, if a man
+shows himself other than he is, if he belittles himself before an
+audience for hire, then he acts unworthily. But a true word, fresh from
+the lips of a true man, is worth paying for, at the rate of eight
+dollars a day, or even of fifty dollars a lecture. The taunt must be an
+outbreak of jealousy against the renowned authors who have the audacity
+to be also orators. The sub-lieutenants of the press stick a too
+popular writer and speaker with an epithet in England, instead of with
+a rapier, as in France.--Poh! All England is one great menagerie, and,
+all at once, the jackal, who admires the gilded cage of the royal
+beast, must protest against the vulgarity of the talking-bird's and the
+nightingale's being willing to become a part of the exhibition!
+
+
+THE LONG PATH.
+
+(_Last of the Parentheses_.)
+
+Yes, that was my last walk with the _schoolmistress_. It happened to be
+the end of a term; and before the next began, a very nice young woman,
+who had been her assistant, was announced as her successor, and she was
+provided for elsewhere. So it was no longer the school-mistress that I
+walked with, but--Let us not be in unseemly haste. I shall call her the
+schoolmistress still; some of you love her under that name.
+
+----When it became known among the boarders that two of their number
+had joined hands to walk down the long path of life side by side, there
+was, as you may suppose, no small sensation. I confess I pitied our
+landlady. It took her all of a suddin,--she said. Had not known that we
+was keepin' company, and never mistrusted anything partic'lar. Ma'am
+was right to better herself. Didn't look very rugged to take care of a
+family, but could get hired haaelp, she calc'lated.--The great maternal
+instinct came crowding up in her soul just then, and her eyes wandered
+until they settled on her daughter.
+
+----No, poor, dear woman,--that could not have been. But I am dropping
+one of my internal tears for you, with this pleasant smile on my face
+all the time.
+
+The great mystery of God's providence is the permitted crushing out of
+flowering instincts. Life is maintained by the respiration of oxygen
+and of sentiments. In the long catalogue of scientific cruelties there
+is hardly anything quite so painful to think of as that experiment of
+putting an animal under the bell of an air-pump and exhausting the air
+from it. [I never saw the accursed trick performed. _Laus Deo_] There
+comes a time when the souls of human beings, women, perhaps, more even
+than men, begin to faint for the atmosphere of the affections they were
+made to breathe. Then it is that Society places its transparent
+bell-glass over the young woman who is to be the subject of one of its
+fatal experiments. The element by which only the heart lives is sucked
+out of her crystalline prison. Watch her through its transparent
+walls;--her bosom is heaving; but it is in a vacuum. Death is no
+riddle, compared to this. I remember a poor girl's story in the "Book
+of Martyrs." The "dry-pan and the gradual fire" were the images that
+frightened her most. How many have withered and wasted under as slow a
+torment in the walls of that larger Inquisition which we call
+Civilization!
+
+Yes, my surface-thought laughs at you, you foolish, plain, overdressed,
+mincing, cheaply-organized, self-saturated young person, whoever you
+may be, now reading this,--little thinking you are what I describe, and
+in blissful unconsciousness that you are destined to the lingering
+asphyxia of soul which is the lot of such multitudes worthier than
+yourself. But it is only my surface-thought which laughs. For that
+great procession of the UNLOVED, who not only wear the crown of thorns,
+but must hide it under the locks of brown or gray,--under the snowy
+cap, under the chilling turban,--hide it even from themselves,--perhaps
+never know they wear it, though it kills them,--there is no depth of
+tenderness in my nature that Pity has not sounded.
+
+Somewhere,--somewhere,--love is in store for them,--the universe must
+not be allowed to fool them so cruelly. What infinite pathos in the
+small, half-unconscious artifices by which unattractive young persons
+seek to recommend themselves to the favor of those towards whom our
+dear sisters, the unloved, like the rest, are impelled by their
+God-given instincts!
+
+Read what the singing-women--one to ten thousand of the suffering
+women--tell us, and think of the griefs that die unspoken! Nature is in
+earnest when she makes a woman; and there are women enough lying in the
+next churchyard with very commonplace blue slate stones at their head
+and feet, for whom it was just as true that "all sounds of life assumed
+one tone of love," as for Letitia Landon, of whom Elizabeth Browning
+said it; but she could give words to her grief, and they could
+not.--Will you hear a few stanzas of mine?
+
+
+THE VOICELESS.
+
+
+  We count the broken lyres that rest
+    Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,--
+  But o'er their silent sister's breast
+    The wild flowers who will stoop to number?
+  A few can touch the magic string,
+    And noisy Fame is proud to win them;--
+  Alas for those that never sing,
+    But die with all their music in them!
+
+  Nay, grieve not for the dead alone
+    Whose song has told their hearts' sad story,--
+  Weep for the voiceless, who have known
+    The cross without the crown of glory!
+  Not where Leucadian breezes sweep
+    O'er Sappho's memory-haunted billow,
+  But where the glistening night-dews weep
+    On nameless sorrow's churchyard pillow.
+
+  O hearts that break and give no sign
+    Save whitening lip and fading tresses,
+  Till Death pours out his cordial wine
+    Slow-dropped from Misery's crushing presses,--
+  If singing breath or echoing chord
+    To every hidden pang were given,
+  What endless melodies were poured,
+    As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven!
+
+I hope that our landlady's daughter is not so badly off, after all.
+That young man from another city, who made the remark which you
+remember about Boston State-house and Boston folks, has appeared at our
+table repeatedly of late, and has seemed to me rather attentive to this
+young lady. Only last evening I saw him leaning over her while she was
+playing the accordion,--indeed, I undertook to join them in a song, and
+got as far as "Come rest in this boo-oo," when, my voice getting
+tremulous, I turned off, as one steps out of a procession, and left the
+basso and soprano to finish it. I see no reason why this young woman
+should not be a very proper match for a man that laughs about Boston
+State-house. He can't be very particular.
+
+The young fellow whom I have so often mentioned was a little free in
+his remarks, but very good-natured.--Sorry to have you go,--he
+said.--Schoolma'am made a mistake not to wait for me. Haven't taken
+anything but mournin' fruit at breakfast since I heard of
+it.--_Mourning fruit,_--said I,--what's that?--Huckleberries and
+blackberries,--said he;--couldn't eat in colors, raspberries, currants,
+and such, after a solemn thing like this happening.--The conceit seemed
+to please the young fellow. If you will believe it, when we came down
+to breakfast the next morning, he had carried it out as follows. You
+know those odious little "saaes-plates" that figure so largely at
+boarding-houses, and especially at taverns, into which a strenuous
+attendant female trowels little dabs, sombre of tint and heterogeneous
+of composition, which it makes you feel homesick to look at, and into
+which you poke the elastic coppery teaspoon with the air of a cat
+dipping her foot into a wash-tub,--(not that I mean to say anything
+against them, for, when they are of tinted porcelain or starry
+many-faceted crystal, and hold clean bright berries, or pale virgin
+honey, or "lucent syrups tinct with cinnamon," and the teaspoon is of
+white silver, with the Tower-stamp, solid, but not brutally heavy,--as
+people in the green stage of millionism will have them,--I can dally
+with their amber semi-fluids or glossy spherules without a
+shiver,)--you know these small, deep dishes, I say. When we came down
+the next morning, each of these (two only excepted) was covered with a
+broad leaf. On lifting this, each boarder found a small heap of solemn
+black huckleberries. But one of those plates held red currants, and was
+covered with a red rose; the other held white currants, and was covered
+with a white rose. There was a laugh at this at first, and then a short
+silence, and I noticed that her lip trembled, and the old gentleman
+opposite was in trouble to get at his bandanna handkerchief.
+
+--"What was the use in waiting? We should be too late for Switzerland,
+that season, if we waited much longer."--The hand I held trembled in
+mine, and the eyes fell meekly, as Esther bowed herself before the feet
+of Ahasuerus.--She had been reading that chapter, for she looked
+up,--if there was a film of moisture over her eyes, there was also the
+faintest shadow of a distant smile skirting her lips, but not enough to
+accent the dimples,--and said, in her pretty, still way,--"If it please
+the king, and if I have found favor in his sight, and the thing seem
+right before the king, and I be pleasing in his eyes"--
+
+I don't remember what King Ahasuerus did or said when Esther got just
+to that point of her soft, humble words,--but I know what I did. That
+quotation from Scripture was cut short, anyhow. We came to a
+compromise on the great question, and the time was settled for the last
+day of summer.
+
+In the mean time, I talked on with our boarders, much as usual, as you
+may see by what I have reported. I must say, I was pleased with a
+certain tenderness they all showed toward us, after the first
+excitement of the news was over. It came out in trivial matters,--but
+each one, in his or her way, manifested kindness. Our landlady, for
+instance, when we had chickens, sent the _liver_ instead of the
+_gizzard_, with the wing, for the schoolmistress. This was not an
+accident: the two are _never_ mistaken, though some land-ladies
+_appear_ as if they did not know the difference. The whole of the
+company were even more respectfully attentive to my remarks than usual.
+There was no idle punning, and very little winking on the part of that
+lively young gentleman who, as the reader may remember, occasionally
+interposed some playful question or remark, which could hardly be
+considered relevant,--except when the least allusion was made to
+matrimony, when he would look at the landlady's daughter, and wink with
+both sides of his face, until she would ask what he was pokin' his fun
+at her for, and if he wasn't ashamed of himself. In fact, they all
+behaved very handsomely, so that I really felt sorry at the thought of
+leaving my boarding-house.
+
+I suppose you think, that, because I lived at a plain widow-woman's
+plain table, I was of course more or less infirm in point of worldly
+fortune. You may not be sorry to learn, that, though not what _great
+merchants_ call very rich, I was comfortable,--comfortable,--so that
+most of those moderate luxuries I described in my verses on
+_Contentment_--_most_ of them, I say--were within our reach, if we
+chose to have them. But I found out that the schoolmistress had a vein
+of charity about her, which had hitherto been worked on a small silver
+and copper basis, which made her think less, perhaps, of luxuries than
+even I did,--modestly as I have expressed my wishes.
+
+It is rather a pleasant thing to tell a poor young woman, whom one has
+contrived to win without showing his rent-roll, that she has found what
+the world values so highly, in following the lead of her affections.
+That was a luxury I was now ready for.
+
+I began abruptly:--Do you know that you are a rich young person?
+
+I know that I am very rich,--she said,--Heaven has given me more than I
+ever asked; for I had not thought love was ever meant for me.
+
+It was a woman's confession, and her voice fell to a whisper as it
+threaded the last words.
+
+I don't mean that,--I said,--you blessed little saint and seraph!--if
+there's an angel missing in the New Jerusalem, inquire for her at this
+boarding-house!--I don't mean that; I mean that I--that is,
+you--am--are--confound it!--I mean that you'll be what most people call
+a lady of fortune.--And I looked full in her eyes for the effect of the
+announcement.
+
+There wasn't any. She said she was thankful that I had what would save
+me from drudgery, and that some other time I should tell her about
+it.--I never made a greater failure in an attempt to produce a
+sensation.
+
+So the last day of summer came. It was our choice to go to the church,
+but we had a kind of reception at the boarding-house. The presents were
+all arranged, and among them none gave more pleasure than the modest
+tributes of our fellow-boarders,--for there was not one, I believe, who
+did not send something. The landlady would insist on making an elegant
+bride-cake, with her own hands; to which Master Benjamin Franklin
+wished to add certain embellishments out of his private funds,--namely,
+a Cupid in a mouse-trap, done in white sugar, and two miniature flags
+with the stars and stripes, which had a very pleasing effect, I assure
+you. The landlady's daughter sent a richly bound copy of Tupper's
+Poems. On a blank leaf was the following, written in a very delicate
+and careful hand:--
+
+  Presented to... by...
+    On the eve ere her union in holy matrimony.
+      May sunshine ever beam o'er her!
+
+Even the poor relative thought she must do something, and sent a copy
+of "The Whole Duty of Man," bound in very attractive variegated
+sheepskin, the edges nicely marbled. From the divinity-student came the
+loveliest English edition of "Keble's Christian Tear." I opened it,
+when it came, to the _Fourth Sunday in Lent_, and read that angelic
+poem, sweeter than anything I can remember since Xavier's "My God, I
+love thee."----I am not a Churchman,--I don't believe in planting oaks
+in flower-pots,--but such a poem as "The Rose-bud" makes one's heart a
+proselyte to the culture it grows from. Talk about it as much as you
+like,--one's breeding shows itself nowhere more than in his religion. A
+man should be a gentleman in his hymns and prayers; the fondness for
+"scenes," among vulgar saints, contrasts so meanly with that--
+
+  "God only and good angels look
+  Behind the blissful scene,"--
+
+and that other,--
+
+  "He could not trust his melting soul
+  But in his Maker's sight,"--
+
+that I hope some of them will see this, and read the poem, and profit
+by it.
+
+My laughing and winking young friend undertook to procure and arrange
+the flowers for the table, and did it with immense zeal. I never saw
+him look happier than when he came in, his hat saucily on one side, and
+a cheroot in his mouth, with a huge bunch of tea-roses, which he said
+were for "Madam."
+
+One of the last things that came was an old square box, smelling of
+camphor, tied and sealed. It bore, in faded ink, the marks, "Calcutta,
+1805." On opening it, we found a white Cashmere shawl, with a very
+brief note from the dear old gentleman opposite, saying that he had
+kept this some years, thinking he might want it, and many more, not
+knowing what to do with it,--that he had never seen it unfolded since
+he was a young super-cargo,--and now, if she would spread it on her
+shoulders, it would make him feel young to look at it.
+
+Poor Bridget, or Biddy, our red-armed maid of all work! What must she
+do but buy a small copper breast-pin and put it under "Schoolma'am's"
+plate that morning, at breakfast? And Schoolma'am would wear
+it,--though I made her cover it, as well as I could, with a tea-rose.
+
+It was my last breakfast as a boarder, and I could not leave them in
+utter silence.
+
+Good-bye,--I said,--my dear friends, one and all of you! I have been
+long with you, and I find it hard parting. I have to thank you for a
+thousand courtesies, and above all for the patience and indulgence with
+which you have listened to me when I have tried to instruct or amuse
+you. My friend the Professor (who, as well as my friend the Poet, is
+unavoidably absent on this interesting occasion) has given me reason to
+suppose that he would occupy my empty chair about the first of January
+next. If he comes among you, be kind to him, as you have been to me. May
+the Lord bless you all!--And we shook hands all round the table.
+
+Half an hour afterwards the breakfast things and the cloth were gone. I
+looked up and down the length of the bare boards, over which I had so
+often uttered my sentiments and experiences--and----Yes, I am a man,
+like another.
+
+All sadness vanished, as, in the midst of these old friends of mine,
+whom you know, and others a little more up in the world, perhaps, to
+whom I have not introduced you, I took the schoolmistress before the
+altar from the hands of the old gentleman who used to sit opposite, and
+who would insist on giving her away.
+
+And now we two are walking the long path in peace together. The
+"schoolmistress" finds her skill in teaching called for again, without
+going abroad to seek little scholars. Those visions of mine have all
+come true.
+
+I hope you all love me none the less for anything I have told you.
+Farewell!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+THE DOT AND LINE ALPHABET.
+
+
+Just in the triumph week of that Great Telegraph which takes its name
+from the ATLANTIC MONTHLY, I read in the September number of that
+journal the revelations of an observer who was surprised to find that
+he had the power of reading, as they run, the revelations of the wire.
+I had the hope that he was about to explain to the public the more
+general use of this instrument,--which, with a stupid fatuity, the
+public has, as yet, failed to grasp. Because its signals have been
+first applied by means of electro-magnetism, and afterwards by means of
+the chemical power of electricity, the many-headed people refuses to
+avail itself, as it might do very easily, of the same signals, for the
+simpler transmission of intelligence,--whatever the power employed.
+
+The great invention of Mr. Morse is his register and alphabet. He
+himself eagerly disclaims any pretension to the original conception of
+the use of electricity as an errand-boy. Hundreds of people had thought
+of that and suggested it; but Morse was the first to give the
+errand-boy such a written message, that he could not lose it on the
+way, nor mistake it when he arrived. The public, eager to thank Morse,
+as he deserves, thanks him for something he did not invent. For this he
+probably cares very little. Nor do I care more. But the public does not
+thank him for what he did originate,--this invaluable and simple
+alphabet. Now, as I use it myself in every detail of life, and see
+every hour how the public might use it, if it chose, I am really sorry
+for this negligence,--both on the score of his fame, and of general
+convenience.
+
+Please to understand, then, ignorant Reader, that this curious alphabet
+reduces all the complex machinery of Cadmus and the rest of the
+writing-masters to characters as simple as can be made by a dot, a
+space, and a line, variously combined. Thus, the marks [Morse code:
+.-.] designate the letter A. The marks [Morse code: -...] designate the
+letter B. All the other letters are designated in as simple a manner.
+
+Now I am stripping myself of one of the private comforts of my life,
+(but what will one not do for mankind?) when I explain that this simple
+alphabet need not be confined to electrical signals. _Long_ and _short_
+make it all,--and wherever long and short can be combined, be it in
+marks, sounds, sneezes, fainting-fits, canes, or children, ideas can be
+conveyed by this arrangement of the long and short together. Only last
+night I was talking scandal with Mrs. Wilberforce at a summer party at
+the Hammersmiths. To my amazement, my wife, who scarcely can play "The
+Fisher's Hornpipe," interrupted us by asking Mrs. Wilberforce if she
+could give her the idea of an air in "The Butcher of Turin."
+
+Mrs. Wilberforce had never heard that opera,--indeed, had never heard
+of it. My angel-wife was surprised,--stood thrumming at the
+piano,--wondered she could not catch this very odd bit of discordant
+accord at all,--but checked herself in her effort, as soon as I
+observed that her long notes and short notes, in their tum-tee,
+tee,--tee-tee, tee-tum tum, meant, "He's her brother." The conversation
+on her side turned from "The Butcher of Turin," and I had just time, on
+the hint thus given me by Mrs. I., to pass a grateful eulogium on the
+distinguished statesman whom Mrs. Wilberforce, with all a sister's
+care, had rocked in his baby-cradle,--whom, but for my wife's long and
+short notes, I should have clumsily abused among the other statesmen of
+the day.
+
+You will see, in an instant, awakening Reader, that it is not the
+business simply of "operators" in telegraphic dens to know this Morse
+alphabet, but your business, and that of every man and woman. If our
+school-committees understood the times, it would be taught, even before
+phonography or physiology, at school. I believe both these sciences now
+precede the old English alphabet.
+
+As I write these words, the bell of the South Congregational strikes
+dong, dong, dong;--dong, dong, dong, dong,--dong,--dong. Nobody has
+unlocked the church-door. The old tin sign, "In case of fire, the key
+will be found at the opposite house," has long since been taken down,
+and made into the nose of a water-pot. Yet there is no Goody Two-Shoes
+locked in. No! But, thanks to Dr. Channing's Fire-Alarm, the bell is
+informing the South End that there is a fire in District
+Dong-dong-dong,--that is to say, District No. 3. Before I have
+explained to you so far, the "Eagle" engine, with a good deal of noise,
+has passed the house on its way to that fated district. An immense
+improvement this on the old system, when the engines radiated from
+their houses in every possible direction, and the fire was extinguished
+by the few machines whose lines of quest happened to cross each other
+at the particular place where the child had been building cob-houses
+out of lucifer-matches in a paper-warehouse. Yes, it is a very great
+improvement. All those persons, like you and me, who have no property
+in District Dong-dong-dong, can now sit at home at ease,--and little
+need we think upon the mud above the knees of those who have property
+in that district and are running to look after it. But for them the
+improvement only brings misery. You arrive wet, hot or cold, or both,
+at the large District No. 3, to find that the lucifer-matches were half
+a mile from your store,--and that your own private watchman, even, had
+not been waked by the working of the distant engines. Wet
+property-holder, as you walk home, consider this. When you are next in
+the Common Council, vote an appropriation for applying Morse's alphabet
+of long and short to the bells. Then they can be made to sound
+intelligibly. Daung ding ding,--ding,--ding daung,--daung daung daung,
+and so on, will tell you, as you wake in the night, that it is Mr. B.'s
+store which is on fire, and not yours, or that it is yours, and not
+his. This is not only a convenience to you and a relief to your wife
+and family, who will thus be spared your excursions to unavailable and
+unsatisfactory fires, and your somewhat irritated return,--it will be a
+great relief to the Fire Department. How placid the operations of a
+fire where none attend except on business! The various engines arrive,
+but no throng of distant citizens, men and boys, fearful of the
+destruction of their all. They have all roused on their pillows to
+learn that it is No. 530 Pearl Street which is in flames. All but the
+owner of No. 530 Pearl Street have dropped back to sleep. He alone has
+rapidly repaired to the scene. That is he, who stands in the uncrowded
+street with the Chief Engineer, on the deck of No. 18, as she plays
+away. His property destroyed, the engines retire,--he mentions the
+amount of his insurance to those persons who represent the daily press,
+they all retire to their homes,--and the whole is finished as simply,
+almost, as was his private entry in his day-book the afternoon before.
+
+This is what might be, if the magnetic alarm only struck _long_ and
+_short_, and we had all learned Morse's alphabet. Indeed, there is
+nothing the bells could not tell, if you would only give them time
+enough. We have only one chime, for musical purposes, in the town. But,
+without attempting tunes, only give the bells the Morse alphabet, and
+every bell in Boston might chant in monotone the words of "Hail
+Columbia" at length, every Fourth of July. Indeed, if Mr. Barnard
+should report any day that a discouraged 'prentice-boy had left town
+for his country home, all the bells could instantly be set to work to
+speak articulately, in language regarding which the dullest imagination
+need not be at loss,
+
+  "Turn again, Higginbottom,
+  Lord Mayor of Boston!"
+
+I have suggested the propriety of introducing this alphabet into the
+primary schools. I need not say I have taught it to my own
+children,--and I have been gratified to see how rapidly it made head,
+against the more complex alphabet, in the grammar schools. Of course it
+does;--an alphabet of two characters matched against one of
+twenty-six,--or of forty-odd, as the very odd one of the phono-typists
+employs! On the Franklin-medal-day I went to the Johnson-School
+examination. One of the committee asked a nice girl, what was the
+capital of Brazil. The child looked tired and pale, and, for an
+instant, hesitated. But, before she had time to commit herself, all
+answering was rendered impossible by an awful turn of whooping-cough
+which one of my own sons was seized with,--who had gone to the
+examination with me. Hawm, hem hem;--hem hem hem;--hem, hem;--hawm, hem
+hem;--hem hem hem;--hem, hem,--barked the poor child, who was at the
+opposite extreme of the school-room. The spectators and the committee
+looked to see him fall dead with a broken blood-vessel. I confess that
+I felt no alarm, after I observed that some of his gasps were long and
+some very staccato;--nor did pretty little Mabel Warren. She recovered
+her color,--and, as soon as silence was in the least restored,
+answered, "_Rio_ is the capital of Brazil,"--as modestly and properly
+as if she had been taught it in her cradle. They are nothing but
+children, any of them,--but that afternoon, after they had done all the
+singing the city needed for its annual entertainment of the singers, I
+saw Bob and Mabel start for a long expedition into West Roxbury,--and
+when he came back, I know it was a long featherfew, from her prize
+school-bouquet, that he pressed in his Greene's "Analysis," with a
+short frond of maiden's hair.
+
+I hope nobody will write a letter to "The Atlantic," to say that these
+are very trifling uses. The communication of useful information is
+never trifling. It is as important to save a nice child from
+mortification on examination-day, as it is to tell Mr. Fremont that he
+is not elected President. If, however, the reader is distressed,
+because these illustrations do not seem to his more benighted
+observation to belong to the big bow-wow strain of human life, let him
+consider the arrangement which ought to have been made years since, for
+lee shores, railroad collisions, and that curious class of maritime
+accidents where one steamer runs into another under the impression that
+she is a light-house. Imagine the Morse alphabet applied to a
+steam-whistle, which is often heard five miles. It needs only _long_
+and _short_ again. "_Stop Comet_," for instance, when you send it down
+the railroad line, by the wire, is expressed thus: ... - .. .... .. .
+.. -- . - Very good message, if Comet happens to be at the telegraph
+station when it comes! But what if Comet has gone by? Much good will
+your trumpery message do then! If, however, you have the wit to sound
+your long and short on an engine-whistle, thus:--Scre scre, scre;
+screeee; scre scre; scre scre scre scre; scre scre--scre, scre scre,
+screeeee scrceeee; scre; screeeee;--why, then the whole neighborhood,
+for five miles round, will know that Comet must stop, if only they
+understand spoken language,--and, among others, the engineman of Comet
+will understand it; and Comet will not run into that wreck of worlds
+which gives the order,--with his nucleus of hot iron and his tail of
+five hundred tons of coal.--So, of the signals which fog-bells
+can give, attached to light-houses. How excellent to have them
+proclaim through the darkness, "I am Wall"! Or of signals for
+steamship-engineers. When our friends were on board the "Arabia" the
+other day, and she and the "Europa" pitched into each other,--as if, on
+that happy week, all the continents were to kiss and join hands all
+round,--how great the relief to the passengers on each, if, through
+every night of their passage, collision had been prevented by this
+simple expedient! One boat would have screamed, "Europa, Europa,
+Europa," from night to morning,--and the other, "Arabia, Arabia,
+Arabia,"--and neither would have been mistaken, as one unfortunately
+was, for a light-house.
+
+The long and short of it is, that whoever can mark distinctions of time
+can use this alphabet of long-and-short, however he may mark them. It
+is, therefore, within the compass of all intelligent beings, except
+those who are no longer conscious of the passage of time, having
+exchanged its limitations for the wider sweep of eternity. The
+illimitable range of this alphabet, however, is not half disclosed when
+this has been said. Most articulate language addresses itself to one
+sense, or at most to two, sight and sound. I see, as I write, that the
+particular illustrations I have given are all of them confined to
+signals seen or signals heard. But the dot-and-line alphabet, in the
+few years of its history, has already shown that it is not restricted
+to these two senses, but makes itself intelligible to all. Its message,
+of course, is heard as well as read. Any good operator understands the
+sounds of its ticks upon the flowing strip of paper, as well as when he
+sees it. As he lies in his cot at midnight, he will expound the passing
+message without striking a light to see it. But this is only what may
+be said of any written language. You can read this article to your
+wife, or she can read it, as she prefers; that is, she chooses whether
+it shall address her eye or her ear. But the long-and-short alphabet of
+Morse and his imitators despises such narrow range. It addresses
+whichever of the five senses the listener chooses. This fact is
+illustrated by a curious set of anecdotes--never yet put in print, I
+think--of that critical dispatch which in one night announced General
+Taylor's death to this whole land. Most of the readers of these lines
+probably read that dispatch in the morning's paper. The compositors and
+editors had read it. To them it was a dispatch to the eye. But half the
+operators at the stations _heard_ it ticked out, by the register
+stroke, and knew it before they wrote it down for the press. To them it
+was a dispatch to the ear. My good friend Langenzunge had not that
+resource. He had just been promised, by the General himself, (under
+whom he served at Palo Alto,) the office of Superintendent of the
+Rocky-Mountain Lines. He was returning from Washington over the
+Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, on a freight-train, when he heard of the
+President's danger. Langenzunge loved Old Rough and Ready,--and he felt
+badly about his own office, too. But his extempore train chose to stop
+at a forsaken shanty-village on the Potomac, for four mortal hours, at
+midnight. What does he do, but walk down the line into the darkness,
+climb a telegraph-post, cut a wire, and apply the two ends to his
+tongue, to _taste_, at the fatal moment, the words, "Died at half past
+ten." Poor Langenzunge! he hardly had nerve to solder the wire again.
+Cogs told me that they had just fitted up the Naguadavick stations with
+Bain's chemical revolving disc. This disc is charged with a salt of
+potash, which, when the electric spark passes through it, is changed to
+Prussian blue. Your dispatch is noiselessly written in dark blue dots
+and lines.
+
+Just as the disc started on that fatal dispatch, and Cogs bent over it
+to read, his spirit-lamp blew up,--as the dear things will. They were
+beside themselves in the lonely, dark office; but, while the men were
+fumbling for matches, which would not go, Cogs's sister, Nydia, a sweet
+blind girl, who had learned Bain's alphabet from Dr. Howe at South
+Boston, bent over the chemical paper, and _smelt_ out the prussiate of
+potash, as it formed itself in lines and dots to tell the sad story.
+Almost anybody used to reading the blind books can read the embossed
+Morse messages with the finger,--and so this message was read at all
+the midnight way-stations where no night-work is expected, and where
+the companies do not supply fluid or oil. Within my narrow circle of
+acquaintance, therefore, there were these simultaneous instances, where
+the same message was seen, heard, smelled, tasted, and felt. So
+universal is the dot-and-line alphabet,--for Bain's is on the same
+principle as Morse's.
+
+The reader sees, therefore, first, that the dot-and-line alphabet can
+be employed by any being who has command of any long and short
+symbols,--be they long and short notches, such as Robinson Crusoe kept
+his accounts with, or long and short waves of electricity, such as
+these which Valentia is sending across to the Newfoundland Bay, so
+prophetically and appropriately named "The Bay of Bulls." Also, I hope
+the reader sees that the alphabet can be understood by any intelligent
+being who has any one of the five senses left him,--by all rational
+men, that is, excepting the few eyeless deaf persons who have lost both
+taste and smell in some complete paralysis. The use of Morse's
+telegraph is by no means confined to the small clique who possess or
+who understand electrical batteries. It is not only the torpedo or the
+_Gymnotus electricus_ that can send us messages from the ocean. Whales
+in the sea can telegraph as well as senators on land, if they will only
+note the difference between long spoutings and short ones. And they can
+listen, too. If they will only note the difference between long and
+short, the eel of Ocean's bottom may feel on his slippery skin the
+smooth messages of our Presidents, and the catfish, in his darkness,
+look fearless on the secrets of a Queen. Any beast, bird, fish, or
+insect, which can discriminate between long and short, may use the
+telegraphic alphabet, if he have sense enough. Any creature, which can
+hear, smell, taste, feel, or see, may take note of its signals, if he
+can understand them. A tired listener at church, by properly varying
+his long yawns and his short ones, may express his opinion of the
+sermon to the opposite gallery before the sermon is done. A dumb
+tobacconist may trade with his customers in an alphabet of short-sixes
+and long-nines. A beleaguered Sebastopol may explain its wants to the
+relieving army beyond the line of the Chernaya, by the lispings of its
+short Paixhans and its long twenty-fours.
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+_Etudes sur Pascal_. Par M. VICTOR COUSIN. Cinqieme Edition, revue et
+augmentee. Paris: 1857. pp. 566. 8vo.
+
+We render hearty thanks to M. Cousin for this new edition of a favorite
+work. No library which contains Pascal's "Provinciales" and "Pensees"
+should be without it.
+
+"Of all the monuments of the French language," says M. Cousin, in the
+_Avant-propos_ to this new edition, "none is more celebrated than the
+work 'Les Pensees,' and French literature possesses no artist more
+consummate than Pascal. Do not expect to find in this young
+geometrician, so soon consumed by disease and passion, the breadth,
+surface, and infinite variety of Bossuet, who, supported by vast and
+uninterrupted study, rose and rose until he gained the loftiest reaches
+of intellect and art, and commanded at pleasure every tone and every
+style. Pascal did not fulfil all his destiny. Besides the mathematics
+and natural philosophy he knew scarcely more than a little theology,
+and he barely passed through good society. It is true, Pascal passed
+away from earth quickly; but during his short life he discerned
+glimpses of the _beau ideal_, he attached himself to it with all his
+heart and soul and strength, and he never allowed anything to leave his
+hands unless it bore its lively impress. So great was his passion for
+perfection, that unchallenged tradition tells us he wrote the
+seventeenth 'Provinciale' thirteen times over. 'Les Pensees' are merely
+fragments of the great work on which he consumed the last years of his
+life; but these fragments sometimes present so finished a beauty, that
+we do not know which most to admire, the grandeur and vigor of the
+sentiments and ideas, or the delicacy and depth of the art."
+
+This praise is unexaggerated. What a career was run by this genius!
+Discovering the science of geometry at twelve years of age,--next
+inventing the arithmetical machine,--discovering atmospheric pressure,
+while every philosopher was prating about "Nature's horror of a
+vacuum,"--inventing the wheelbarrow, to divert his mind from the pains
+of the toothache, and succeeding,--inventing the theory of
+probabilities,--establishing the first omnibuses that ever relieved the
+public,--then writing the "Provinciales,"--dying at thirty-three,
+leaving behind him two small volumes (you may carry them in your
+pocket) which are the unchallengeable title-deeds of his immortal fame,
+the favorite works of Gibbon, Voltaire, Macaulay, and Cousin! Where
+else can so crowded and so short a career be found?
+
+It is scarcely possible to repress a smile in reading this work and
+discovering the patient care with which M. Cousin avoids speaking of
+the "Provinciales." And it is strange to say (no contemptible proof of
+the influence exercised by the Church of Rome, even when checked as it
+is in France) that no decent edition of the "Provinciales" can be found
+in the French language. While we possess M. Cousin's "Etudes sur
+Pascal," and M. Havet's edition of "Les Pensees," the only editions of
+"Les Provinciales" of recent date are the miserable publications of
+Charpentier and the Didots. Editions of Voltaire and Rousseau are
+numerous, elaborate, and elegant; for atheism is pardoned much more
+easily than abhorrence of the Jesuits.
+
+The volume named at the head of this article contains a great many
+valuable documents relating to Pascal and his family: all of Pascal's
+correspondence known to exist, including his celebrated letter on the
+death of Etienne Pascal, his father, which is usually printed in "Les
+Pensees," being cut up into short sentences to fit it for that work, a
+large part of it being omitted; his singular essay on Love; curious
+details concerning the De Roanner family; an essay on the true text of
+the "Pensees"; a curious fac-simile of a page of that work; and a
+discussion (perhaps M. Cousin would say a refutation) of Pascal's
+philosophy. But we must protest against the easy manner in which M.
+Cousin wears his honors. When a book has reached its fifth edition and
+is evidently destined to a good many more during the author's lifetime,
+he lies under an obligation to place the new information he may have
+collected, and the additional thoughts which may have occurred to him,
+during the intervals between the different editions, in a form more
+convenient to the render than new prefaces and new notes. To master the
+information contained in this work is no recreation, but a severe task,
+and one not to be accomplished except upon repeated perusals of the
+book. This is the more inexcusable because M. Cousin is now free from
+all official and professional cares; and it would involve the less
+labor to him, as he never writes, but dictates all his compositions.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_Belle Brittan on a Tour; at Newport, and Here and There._ New York:
+Derby & Jackson. 1858.
+
+The compulsion of hunger, or the request of friends, was the excuse for
+the printing of sorry books in Pope's time; and it has not become
+obsolete yet. The writer of the book, the title of which we have given
+above, pleads the latter alternative as the occasion of this
+publication. He says it was "a few friends" that preferred this
+request. It is unfortunate for him that he had any so void of judgment
+and empty of taste. He thinks his Letters will "receive unjust
+censure," as well as "undue praise." We think that he may relieve his
+mind of any such apprehension. We cannot think his book at all likely
+to receive more dispraise than it richly merits. A more discreditable
+one, not absolutely indictable, we hope, has seldom issued from the
+American press.
+
+What motive the author had in assuming a female character, we know not.
+He certainly has been very unfortunate in his female acquaintance, if
+he accurately imitates their tone of thought and style of talk, in his
+letters. Should they happen to fall in the way of any foreigners, we
+beg them to believe that this is not the way in which American women
+converse. But we think that there can scarcely be a cockney so spoony
+as not to "spy a great peard under her muffler," and know that it is a
+man awkwardly masquerading in women's clothes. It is a libel on the
+women of the country, to put such balderdash into the mouth of one who
+may be supposed to have been finished at a fifth-rate boarding-school.
+
+The letters are in the worst style of the "Own Correspondents" of
+third-rate papers. The "_deadhead_" perks itself in your face at every
+turn, in flunkeyish gratitude for invitations, drinks, dinners, and
+free passes,--from "the gentlemanly Lord Napier," down to "intelligent
+and gentlemanly" railway-conductors, "gentlemanly and attentive"
+hotel-clerks, "gracious, gentlemanly, and gallant" tavern-keepers, and
+their "lovely and accomplished brides." The soul of a footman is
+expressed by the pen of an abigail,--and the one not a Humphrey
+Clinker, nor the other a Winifred Jenkins,--and we are expected to
+admire the result as a good imitation of a lively, intelligent,
+well-bred American young lady! We protest against the profanation.
+
+The letters take a wide range of subject, and treat of "Shakspeare,
+taste, and the musical glasses," in a vein that would have done no
+discredit to Lady Blarney and Miss Arabella Wilhelmina Amelia Skeggs
+themselves. We might divert our readers with some specimens of
+criticism, or opinion, did our limits admit of such entertainment. We
+can only inform them, on Belle Brittan's authority, that worthy Dr.
+Charles Mackay, who suffers throughout the book from intermittent--nay,
+chronic--attacks of puffery, is "one of the best living poets of
+England"; Mademoiselle Lamoureux, the _danseuse_, is "better than
+Ellsler"; and pretty Mrs. John Wood, the lively _soubrette_ of the
+Boston Theatre, "possesses many of the rarest requisites of a great
+actress"! But these are inanities which an inexperienced and
+half-taught girl might possibly utter in a familiar letter. Not so, we
+trust, as to the belief expressed by Belle Brittan, in puffing "Jim
+Parton's, Fanny Fern's Jim's," Life of Burr,--"more charming than a
+novel," because, as she implies, of the successful libertinism of its
+hero,--when she says, speaking in the name of the maidens of America,
+"We all, I suppose, must fall, like our first parents, when the hour of
+_our_ temptation comes"!
+
+We should not have given the space we have bestowed on this worthless
+book, had it not been made the occasion of newspaper puffs innumerable,
+recommending it to the public as something worthy of their time and
+money. It is one of the worst signs of our time that a false
+good-nature or imperfect taste should lead respectable papers to give
+currency to books destitute of all merit, by the application to them of
+stereotyped phrases of commendation. These letters, without a grace of
+style, without a flash of wit, without a genial ray of humor, deformed
+by coarse breeding, vulgar self-conceit, and ignorant assumption, are
+bepraised as if they were fresh from the mint of genius, and bore the
+image and superscription of Madame de Sevigne or Lady Mary Wortley!
+This evil must be cured, or the daily press may find that it will cure
+itself.
+
+We know nothing of the author of this book, excepting what he has here
+shown us of himself. He may be capable of better things, and when they
+come before us, we shall rejoice to do them justice. But we advise him,
+first of all, to discard his disguise, which becomes him as ill as the
+gown of Mrs. Ford's "maid's aunt, the fat woman of Brentford," did Sir
+John Falstaff. Or, if he will persist in playing the part of a woman,
+let him bear in mind that to be unmanly is not necessarily to be
+womanly, and that it does not follow that one writes like a lady
+because he does _not_ write like a gentleman.
+
+_Appleton's Cyclopaedia of Drawing_. Designed as a Text-book for the
+Mechanic, Architect, Engineer, and Surveyor. Comprising Geometrical
+Projection, Mechanical, Architectural, and Topographical Drawing,
+Perspective, and Isometry. Edited by W.E. WORTHEN. New York: D.
+Appleton & Co. 1857.
+
+Mr. Worthen has given us in this book a most judicious and complete
+compilation of the best works on the various branches of "practical"
+drawing,--having, with real thoughtfulness and knowledge of what was
+needed in a handbook, condensed all the most important rules and
+directions to be found in the works of MM. Le Brun and Armengaud on
+geometrical and mechanical drawing, Ferguson and Garbett on
+architectural, and Williams, Gillespie, Smith, and Frome, on
+topographical drawing.
+
+It includes a very full chapter of geometrical definitions, a complete
+and minute description of all the implements of mechanical drawing, and
+solutions of all the useful problems of geometrical drawing,--a part of
+the work especially needed by practical mechanics, and hitherto to be
+found, so far as we know, only in the form of results in the
+pocket-books of tables, or in the lengthy and elaborate treatises of
+the heavy cyclopaedias, or works specially devoted to the topic.
+
+There is an admirably condensed treatise on the mechanical powers,
+containing all the problems of use in construction, with tables of the
+mechanical properties of materials. In mechanical drawing there are
+directions for the most complicated drawings, going up to the last
+improvements in the steam-engine. The same completeness of elementary
+instruction marks the section on architectural drawing, though in this
+department we should have liked a fuller and better-chosen series of
+examples, especially of domestic architecture,--an Italian villa
+planned by Mr. Upjohn being the only really tasteful and appropriate
+dwelling-house given. The designs by Downing, rarely much more than
+commodious residences with great neatness rather than artistic beauty,
+stand very well for that style of building which consults comfort and
+attains it, but it is a misuse of words to call them artistic.
+Picturesque they may be at times, but often the affectation of external
+style puts Downing's designs into the category of Gothic follies and
+Grecian villanies, in which the outside gives the lie to the
+inside,--emulating in wood the forms of stone, giving to cottages on
+whose roof snow will never lie three inches deep all the pitch a Swiss
+_chalet_ would need. We are especially sorry to see a plate of Thomas's
+house in Fifth Avenue, New York,--the most absurd and ludicrous pile of
+building material which can be found on the avenue,--and to find such
+evidence of taste as is shown by the editor's commendation of it as
+"uniting richness and grandeur of effect," "admirably suited," etc. Mr.
+Worthen, however, generally abstains from much expression of opinion as
+to styles or the respective merits of works.
+
+His examples of the steam-engine are nearly all from American models,
+and include the oscillating engines of the "Golden Gate," the last
+important advance in the construction of the marine engine; for,
+although the form of the oscillator has been known for years, it had
+never been applied to marine uses until the success of the "Golden
+Gate" proved its applicability to the heaviest engines. The examples of
+architectural details and ornaments are copious, and represent all
+styles with great fairness; but there is much confusion in the
+numbering of the plates, so that it is a problem at times to find the
+illustration desired.
+
+The tinted illustrations, though answering their proposed purpose, are
+a disgrace to the art of lithotinting,--coarse, ineffective, and cheap.
+The publishers, we think, would have profited by a little more
+liberality in this respect.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY, VOLUME 2,
+ISSUE 12, OCTOBER, 1858***
+
+
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