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diff --git a/old/10867.txt b/old/10867.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d287e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/10867.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9679 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantic Monthly, Vol. II., November, +1858., No. XIII., 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: Atlantic Monthly, Vol. II., November, 1858., No. XIII. + +Author: Various + +Release Date: January 30, 2004 [EBook #10867] +[Date last updated: July 12, 2005] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY *** + + + + +Produced by Cornell University + + + + +THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. + + +A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS. + + + +VOL. II.--NOVEMBER, 1858.--NO. XIII. + + + + +RAILWAY-ENGINEERING IN THE UNITED STATES.[1] + +Though our country can boast of no Watt, Brindley, Smeaton, Rennie, +Telford, Brunel, Stephenson, or Fairbairn, and lacks such +experimenters as Tredgold, Barlow, Hodgkinson, and Clark, yet we +have our Evans and Fulton, our Whistler, Latrobe, Roebling, Haupt, +Ellet, Adams, and Morris,--engineers who yield to none in +professional skill, and whose work will bear comparison with the +best of that of Great Britain or the Continent; and if America does +not show a Thames Tunnel, a Conway or Menai Tubular Bridge, or a +monster steamer, yet she has a railroad-bridge of eight hundred feet +clear span, hung two hundred and fifty feet above one of the wildest +rivers in the world,--locomotive engines climbing the Alleghanies at +an ascent of five hundred feet per mile,--and twenty-five thousand +miles of railroad, employing upwards of five thousand locomotives +and eighty thousand cars, costing over a thousand millions of dollars, +and transporting annually one hundred and thirty millions of +passengers and thirty million tons of freight,--and all this in a +manner peculiarly adapted to our country, both financially and +mechanically. + +In England the amount of money bears a high proportion to the amount +of territory; in America the reverse is the case; and the engineers +of the two countries quickly recognized the fact: for we find our +railroads costing from thirty thousand to forty thousand dollars per +mile,--while in England, to surmount much easier natural obstacles, +the cost varies from seventy-five to one hundred thousand dollars +per mile. + +The cost of railroad transport will probably never be so low as +carriage by water,--that is, natural water-communication; because +the river or ocean is given to man complete and ready for use, +needing no repairs, and with no interest to pay upon construction +capital. Indeed, it is just beginning to be seen all over the +country that the public have both expected and received too much +accommodation from the companies. Men are perfectly willing to pay +five dollars for riding a hundred miles in a stage-coach; but give +them a nicely warmed, ventilated, cushioned, and furnished car, and +carry them four or five times faster, with double the comfort, and +they expect to pay only half-price,--as a friend of the writer once +remarked, "Why, of course we ought not to pay so much when we a'n't +half so long going,"--as if, when they paid their fare, they not +only bargained for transport from one place to another, but for the +luxury of sitting in a crowded coach a certain number of hours. It +would be hard to show a satisfactory basis for such an establishment +of tolls. We need not wonder at the unprofitableness of many of our +roads when we consider that the relative cost of transport is,-- + + By Stage, one cent, + By Railroad, two and seven-twelfths; + +and the relative charge,-- + + By Stage, five cents, + By Railroad, three cents; + +and the comparative profit, as five less one to three less two and +seven-twelfths, or as _four_ to _five-twelfths_, or as _nine and +six-tenths to one_. + +America has, it is true, a grander system of natural +water-communication than any other land except Brazil; but, for all +that, there is really but a small part of the area, either of the +Alleghany coal and iron fields, or of the granaries of the +Mississippi valley, reached even by our matchless rivers. A certain +strip or band of country, bordering the water-courses, is served by +them both as regards export and import; just as much is served +wherever we build a railroad. In fact, whenever we lay a road across +a State, whether it connects the West directly with the East, or +only with some central commercial point in the West, just so often +do we open to market a band of country as long as the road, and +thirty, forty, or fifty miles wide,--the width depending very much +upon the cost of transport over such road; and as the charge is much +less upon a railroad than upon a common road, the distance from the +road from which produce may be brought is much greater with the +former than with the latter. The actual determination of the width +of the band is a simple problem, when the commercial nature of the +country is known. + +The people of the great valley have not been slow, where Nature has +denied them the natural, to make for themselves artificial rivers of +iron. These railroads are more completely adapted to the physical +character of the Western States than would be any other mode of +communication. The work of construction is oftentimes very light, +little more being necessary for a railway across the prairies of the +West (generally) than a couple of ditches twenty or thirty feet apart, +the material taken therefrom being thrown into the intermediate space, +thus forming the surface which supports the crossties, the sills or +sleepers, and the rails. Indeed, the double operation of ditching +and embanking is in some cases performed by a single machine, +(a nondescript affair, in appearance half-way between a +threshing-machine and a hundred-and-twenty-pound field-piece,) drawn +by six, eight, or ten pairs of oxen. + +It is even probable that in a great many cases the common road would +cost more than the railway in the great central basin of America; as +the rich alluvial soil, when wet in spring or fall, is almost +impassable, and lack of stone and timber prevents the construction +of artificial roads. + +The influence of the railroad upon the Western farm-lands is quickly +seen by the following figures, extracted from a lately published +work on railroad construction. + +_Table showing the Effect of Railroad Transport upon the Value of +Grain in the Market of Chicago, Illinois_. + + WHEAT CORN + Carried by Carried by Carried by Carried by + railroad wagon railroad wagon + + At market $49.50 49.50 25.60 25.60 + Carried 10 m. 49.25 48.00 24.25 23.26 + do. 50 m. 48.75 42.00 24.00 17.25 + do. 100 m. 48.00 34.50 23.25 9.75 + do. 150 m. 47.25 27.00 22.50 2.25 + do. 200 m. 46.50 19.50 21.75 0.00 + do. 300 m. 45.00 4.50 20.25 0.00 + do. 330 m. 44.55 0.00 19.80 0.00 + + +Thus a ton of corn carried two hundred miles costs by wagon +transport more than it brings at market,--while, moved by +railroad, it is worth $21.75. Also wheat will not bear wagon +transport of 330 miles,--while, moved that distance by railroad +it is worth $44.55 per ton. + +The social effect of railroads is seen and felt by those who live in +the neighborhood of large cities. The unhealthy density of +population is prevented, by enabling men to live five, ten, or +fifteen miles away from the city and yet do business therein. The +extent of this diffusion is as the square of the speed of transport. +To illustrate. If a person walks four miles an hour, and is allowed +one hour for passing from his home to his place of business, he can +live four miles from his work; the area, therefore, which may be +lived in is the circle of which the radius is four miles, the +diameter eight miles, and the area 501/4 square miles. If by horse he +can go eight miles an hour, the diameter of the circle becomes +sixteen miles, and the area 201 square miles. Finally, if by +railroad he goes thirty miles an hour, the diameter becomes sixty +miles, and the area 2,827 square miles. + +In the case of railroads, as of other labor-saving (and +labor-producing) contrivances, the innovation has been loudly decried; +but though it does render some classes of labor useless, and throw +out of employment some persons, it creates new labor for more than +the old, and gives much more than it takes away. + +Twenty years of experience show that the diminished cost of +transport by railroad invariably augments the amount of commerce +transacted, and in a much larger ratio than the reduction of cost. It +is estimated by Dr. Lardner that three hundred thousand horses, +working daily in stages, would be required to perform the +passenger-traffic alone which took place in England during the year +1848. + +Regarding the safety of railroad-travelling, though the papers teem +with awful calamities from collisions and other causes, yet so great +is the number of persons who use the new mode of transport, that +travelling by railroad is really about one hundred times safer than +by stage. The mortality upon English roads was for one year observed: +--one person killed for each sixty-five million transported; in +America, for the same time, one in forty-one million. + +If we should try to reason from the rate of past railway-growth as +to what the future is to be, we should soon be lost in figures. Thus, +in the United States,-- + + In 1829 there were 3 miles. + In 1830 41 miles. + In 1840 2167 miles. + In 1850 7355 miles. + In 1856 23,242 miles. + +Thus from 1830 to 1840, the rate is as 2167/41 or 53 nearly; from +1840 to 1850, 7355/2167, or 3 nearly; and from 1850 to 1856, 23242/ +7355 or 3 nearly; and from 1850 to 1860 we may suppose the rate will +be about 4. The rate is probably now at its permanent maximum, +taking the whole country together,--the increase in New England +having nearly ceased, while west of the Mississippi it has not +reached its average. + +Among the larger and more important roads and connected systems in +our country may be named the New York and Erie Railroad,--connecting +the city of New York with Lake Erie at Dunkirk, (and, by the road's +diverging from its western terminus, with "all places West and South," +as the bills say,)--crossing the Shawangunk Mountains through the +valley of the Neversink, up the Delaware, down the Susquehanna, and +through the rich West of the Empire State. + +The Pennsylvania Central Road: from Philadelphia through Lancaster +to Harrisburg, on the Susquehanna, up the Juniata and down the +western slope of the Alleghanies, through rock-cut galleries and +over numberless bridges, reaching at last the bluffs where smoky +Pittsburg sees the Ohio start on its noble course. + +The Baltimore and Ohio Railroad: from Baltimore, in Maryland, to +Wheeling and Parkersburg, on the Ohio;--crossing the lowlands to the +Washington Junction, thence up the Patapsco, down the Monocacy, to +the Potomac; up to Harper's Ferry, where the Potomac and the +Shenandoah chafe the rocky base of the romantic little town perched +high above; winding up the North Branch to Cumberland,--the terminus +of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, and of the great national turnpike +to the West, for which Wills' Creek opened so grand a gate at the +narrows,--to Piedmont the foot and Altamont the summit, through +Savage Valley and Crabtree Gorge, across the glades, from which the +water flows east to the Chesapeake Bay and west to the Gulf of Mexico; +down Saltlick Creek, and up the slopes of Cheat River and Laurel Hill, +till rivers dwindle to creeks, creeks to rills, and rills lose +themselves on the flanks of mountains which bar the passage of +everything except the railroad; thence, through tunnels of rock and +tunnels of iron, descending Tygart's Valley to the Monongahela, and +thence through a varied but less rugged country to Moundsville, +twelve miles below Wheeling, on the Ohio River. + +These are our three great roads where engineering skill has +triumphed over natural obstacles. We have another class of great +lines to which the obstacles were not so much mechanical as financial, +--the physical difficulties being quite secondary. Such are the +trunk lines from the East to the West,--through Buffalo, Erie, and +Cleveland, to Toledo and Detroit, and from Detroit to Chicago, Rock +Island, Burlington, Quincy, and St. Louis; from Pittsburg, Wheeling, +and Parkersburg, on the Ohio, to Cleveland, Columbus, Cincinnati, +Indianapolis, Louisville, and St. Louis; and from Cleveland, through +Columbus, to Cincinnati, and from Cincinnati to the Northwest. + +In progress also may be noticed roads running west from St. Louis, +Hannibal, and Burlington, on the Mississippi, all tending towards +some point in Kansas, from which the great Pacific Road, the +crowning effort of American railway-engineering, may be supposed to +take its departure for California and Oregon. + +The chief point of difference between the English and the American +engineer is, that the former defies all opposition from river and +mountain, maintains his line straight and level, fights Nature at +every point, cares neither for height nor depth, rock nor torrent, +builds his matchless roads through the snowy woods of Canada or over +the sandy plains of Egypt with as much unconcern as among the +pleasant fields of Hertford or Surrey, and spans with equal ease the +Thames, the Severn, the St. Lawrence, and the Nile. The words +"fail," "impossible," "can't be done," he knows not; and when all +other means of finding a firm base whereon to build his bridges and +viaducts fail, he puts in a foundation of golden guineas and silver +dollars, which always gives success. + +On the other hand, the American engineer, always respectful (though +none the less determined) in the presence of natural obstacles to +his progress, bows politely to the opposing mountain-range, and, +bowing, passes around the base, saying, as he looks back, "You see, +friend, we need have no hard feelings,--the world is large enough +for thee and me." To the broad-sweeping river he gently hints, +"Nearer your source you are not so big, and, as I turned out for the +mountain, why should I not for the river?" till mountain and river, +alike aghast at the bold pigmy, look in silent wonder at the +thundering train which shoulders aside granite hills and tramples +rivers beneath its feet. But if Nature corners him between rocks +heavenward piled on the one hand and roaring torrents on the other, +whether to pass is required a bridge or a tunnel, we find either or +both designed and built in a manner which cannot be bettered. He is +well aware that the directors like rather to see short columns of +figures on their treasurer's books than to read records of great +mechanical triumphs in their engineer's reports. + +Of the whole expense of building a railroad, where the country is to +any considerable degree broken, the reduction of the natural surface +to the required form for the road, that is, the earthwork, or, +otherwise, the excavation and embankment, amounts to from thirty to +seventy per cent. of the whole cost. Here, then, is certainly an +important element on which the engineer is to show his ability; let +us look a little at it, even at the risk of being dry. + +It is by no means necessary to reduce the natural surface of the +country to a level or horizontal line; if it were so, there would be +an end to all railroads, except on some of the Western prairies. +This was not, however, at first known; indeed, those who were second +to understand the matter denied the possibility of moving a +locomotive even on a level by applying power to the wheels, because, +it was said, the wheels would slip round on the smooth iron rail and +the engine remain at rest. But lo! when the experiment was tried, it +was found that the wheel not only had sufficient bite or adhesion +upon the rail to prevent slipping and give a forward motion to the +engine, but that a number of cars might be attached and also moved. + +This point gained, the objectors advanced a step, but again came to +a stand, and said, "If you can move a train on a level, that is all, +--you can't go up hill." But trial proved that easy inclines (called +grades) could be surmounted,--say, rising ten feet for each mile in +length. + +The objectors take another step, but again put down their heavy +square-toed foot, and say, "There! aren't you satisfied? you can go +over grades of twenty feet per mile, but no more,--so don't try." +And here English engineers stop,--twenty feet being considered a +pretty stiff grade. Meanwhile, the American engineers Whistler and +Latrobe, the one dealing with the Berkshire mountains in +Massachusetts, the other with the Alleghanies in Virginia, find that +not only are grades of ten and of twenty feet admissible, but, where +Nature requires it, inclines of forty, sixty, eighty, and even one +hundred feet per mile,--it being only remembered, the while, that +just as the steepness of the grade is augmented, the power must be +increased. This discovery, when properly used, is of immense +advantage; but in the hands of those who do not understand the nice +relation which exists between the mechanical and the financial +elements of the question, as governed by the speed and weight of +trains, and by the funds at the company's disposal, is very liable +to be a great injury to the prospects of a road, or even its ruin. + +It was urged at one time, that the best road would have the grades +undulating from one end to the other,--so that the momentum acquired +in one descent would carry the train almost over the succeeding +ascent; and that very little steam-power would be needed. This idea +would have place, at least to a certain extent, if the whole +momentum was allowed to accumulate during the descent; but even +supposing there would be no danger from acquiring so great a speed, +a mechanical difficulty was brought to light at once, namely, that +the resistance of the atmosphere to the motion of the train +increased nearly, if not quite, as the square of the speed; so that +after the train on the descent acquired a certain speed, a regular +motion was obtained by the balance of momentum and resistance, +--whence a fall great enough to produce this regular speed would be +advantageous, but no more. On the other hand, the extra power +required to draw the train up the grades much overbalances the gain +by gravity in going down. + +Here, then, we have the two extremes: first, spending more money +than the expected traffic will warrant, to cut down hills and fill +up valleys; and second, introducing grades so steep that the amount +of traffic does not authorize the use of engines heavy enough to +work them. + +The direction of the traffic, to a certain extent, determines the +rate and direction of the inclines. Thus, the Reading Railroad, from +Philadelphia up the Schuylkill to Reading, and thence to Pottsville, +is employed entirely in the transport of coal from the Lehigh +coal-fields to tide-water in Philadelphia; and it is a very +economically operated road, considering the large amount of ascent +encountered, because the load goes down hill, and the weight of the +train is limited only by the number of empty cars that the engine +can take back. + +This adoption of steep inclines may be considered as an American +idea entirely, and to it many of our large roads owe their success. +The Western Railroad of Massachusetts ascends from Springfield to +Pittsfield, for a part of the way, at 83 feet per mile. The New York +and Erie Railroad has grades of 60 feet per mile. The Baltimore and +Ohio climbs the Alleghanies on inclines of 116 feet per mile. The +Virginia Central Road crosses the Blue Ridge by grades of 250 and +295 feet per mile; and the ridge through which the Kingwood Tunnel +is bored, upon the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, was surmounted +temporarily by grades of 500 feet per mile, up which each single car +was drawn by a powerful locomotive. + +Another element, of which American engineers have freely availed +themselves, is curvature. More power is required to draw a train of +cars around a curved track than upon a straight line. In England the +radius of curvature is limited to half a mile, or thereabouts. The +English railway-carriage is placed on three axles, all of which are +fixed to the body of the vehicle; the passage of curves, of even a +large diameter, is thus attended by considerable wear and strain; +but in America, the cars, which are much longer than those upon +English roads, are placed upon a pintle or pin at each end, which +pin is borne upon the centre of a four-wheeled truck,--by which +arrangement the wheels may conform to the line of the rails, while +the body of the car is unaffected. This simple contrivance permits +the use of curves which would otherwise be entirely impracticable. +Thus we find curves of one thousand feet radius upon our roads, over +which the trains are run at very considerable speed; while in one +remarkable instance (on the Virginia Central Railroad, before named) +we find the extreme minimum of 234 feet. Such a track does not admit +of high speeds, and its very use implies the existence of natural +obstacles which prevent the acquirement of great velocities. + +In fine, the use which the engineer makes of grades and curves, when +the physical nature of the country and the nature and amount of the +traffic expected are known, may be taken as a pretty sure index of +his real professional standing, and sometimes as an index of the +moral man; as when, for example, he steepens his grades to suit the +contractor's ideas of mechanics,--in other words, to save work. + +Not less in the construction of bridges and viaducts, than in the +preparation of the road-bed proper, does the American engineering +faculty display itself. Timber, of the best quality, may be found in +almost every part of the country, and nowhere in the world has the +design and building of wooden bridges been carried to such +perfection and such extent as in the United States. We speak here of +structures built by such engineers as Haupt, Adams, and Latrobe, +--and not of those works, wretched alike in design and execution, +which so often become the cause of what are called terrible +catastrophes and lamentable accidents, but which are, in reality, +the just criticisms of natural mechanical laws upon the ignorance of +pretended engineers. + +Among the finest specimens of timberwork in America are the Cascade +Bridge upon the New York and Erie Railroad, designed and built by +Mr. Adams, consisting of one immense timber-arch, having natural +abutments in the rocky shores of the creek;--the second edition of +the bridges generally upon the same road, by Mr. McCallum, which +replaced those originally built during the construction of the road, +--these hardly needing to be taken down by other exertion than their +own;--the bridges from one end to the other of the Pennsylvania +Central Road, by Mr. Haupt;--the Baltimore and Ohio "arch-brace" +bridges, by Mr. Latrobe;--and the Genessee "high bridge," (not a +bridge, by the way, but a trestle,) near Portageville, by Mr. Seymour, +which is eight hundred feet long, and carries the road two hundred +and thirty feet above the river, having wooden trestles (post and +brickwork) one hundred and ninety feet high, seventy-five feet wide +at base, and twenty-five feet at top, and carrying above all a +bridge fourteen feet high; containing the timber of two hundred and +fifty acres of land, and sixty tons of iron bolts, costing only +$140,000, and built in the short time of eighteen months. This +structure, if replaced by an earth embankment, would cost half a +million of dollars, and could not be built in less than five years +by the ordinary mode of proceeding.[2] + +Further, the interest, for so long a time, on the large amount of +money required to build the embankment, at the high rate of railroad +interest, would nearly, if not quite, suffice to build the wooden +structure. + +Again, our wooden bridges of the average span cost about thirty-five +dollars per lineal foot. Let us compare this with the cost of iron +bridges, on the English tubular plan, the spans being the same, and +the piers, therefore, left out of the comparison. + +Suppose that a road has in all one mile in length of bridges. Making +due allowance for the difference in value of labor in England and +America, the cost per lineal foot of the iron tubular bridges could +not be less (for the average span of 150 feet) than three hundred +dollars. + + 5280 feet by $35 is $184,800.00 + 5280 feet by 300 is $1,584,000.00 + The six per cent. interest on the first is $11,088.00 + The six per cent. interest on the second is $95,040.00 + And the difference is $83,952.00 + +or nearly enough to rebuild the wooden bridges once in two years; +and ten years is the shortest time that a good wooden bridge should +last. + +The reader may wonder why such structures as the bridge over the +Susquehanna at Columbia, which consists of twenty-nine arches, each +two hundred feet span, the whole water-way being a mile long, and +many other bridges spanning large rivers, and having an imposing +appearance, are not referred to in this place. The reason is this: +_large_ bridges are by no means always _great_ bridges; nor do +they require, as some seem to think, skill proportioned to their +length. There are many structures of this kind in America, of twenty, +twenty-five, or thirty spans, where the same mechanical blunders are +repeated over and over again in each span; so that the longer they +are and the more they cost, the worse they are. It does not follow, +because newspapers say, "magnificent bridge," "two million feet of +timber," "eighty or one hundred tons of iron," "cost half a million," +that there is any merit about either the bridge or its builder; as +one span is, so is the whole; and a bridge fifty feet long, and +costing only a few hundreds, may show more engineering skill than +the largest and most costly viaducts in America. Few bridges require +more knowledge of mechanics and of materials than Mr. Haupt's little +"trussed girders" on the Pennsylvania Central Road,--consisting of a +single piece of timber, trussed with a single rod, under each rail +of the track. + +Again, as regards American iron bridges, the same result is +found to a great extent. Thus, Mr. Roebling's Niagara Railroad +Suspension-Bridge cost four hundred thousand dollars, while a +boiler-plate iron bridge upon the tubular system would cost for the +same span about four million dollars, even if it were practicable to +raise a tubular bridge in one piece over Niagara River at the site +of the Suspension Bridge. Strength and durability, _with the utmost +economy_, seem to have been attained by Mr. Wendel Bollman, +superintendent of the road-department of the Baltimore and Ohio +Railroad,--the minute details of construction being so skilfully +arranged, that changes of temperature, oftentimes so fatal to +bridges of metal, have no hurtful effect whatever. And here, again, +is seen the distinctive American feature of adaptation or +accommodation, even in the smallest detail. Mr. Bollman does not get +savage and say, "Messieurs Heat and Cold, I can get iron enough out +of the Alleghanies to resist all the power you can bring against me!" +--but only observes, "Go on, Heat and Cold! I am not going to deal +directly with you, but indirectly, by means of an agent which will +render harmless your most violent efforts!"--or, in other words, he +interposes a short link of iron between the principal members of his +bridge, which absorbs entirely all undue strains. + +It is not to be supposed from what has preceded, that the American +engineer does not know how to spend money, because he gets along +with so little, and accomplishes so much; when occasion requires, he +is lavish of his dollars, and sees no longer expense, but only the +object to be accomplished. Witness, for example, the Kingwood Tunnel, +on the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, where for a great distance the +lining or protecting arching inside is of heavy ribs of cast iron, +--making the cost of that mile of road embracing the tunnel about a +million of dollars. Nor will the traveller who observes the +construction of the New York and Erie Railroad up the Delaware Valley, +of the Pennsylvania Central down the west slopes of the Alleghanies, +or of the Baltimore and Ohio down the slopes of Cheat River, think +for a moment that the American engineer grudges money where it is +really needed. + +Stone bridges so rarely occur upon the roads of America, that they +hardly need remark. The Starucca Viaduct, by Mr. Adams, upon the New +York and Erie Railroad, and the viaduct over the Patapsco, near the +junction of the Washington branch with the main stem of the +Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, show that our engineers are not at all +behind those of Europe in this branch of engineering. From the civil +let us pass to the mechanical department of railroad engineering. +This latter embraces all the machinery, both fixed and rolling; +locomotives and cars coming under the latter,--and the shop-machines, +lathes, planers, and boring-machines, forging, cutting, punching, +rolling, and shearing engines, pumps and pumping-engines for the +water-stations, turn-tables, and the like, under the former. Of this +branch, little, except the design and working of the locomotive power, +needs to be mentioned as affecting the prosperity of the road. +Machine-shops, engine-houses, and such apparatus, differ but +slightly upon different roads; but the form and dimensions of the +locomotive engines should depend upon the nature of the traffic, and +upon the physical character of the road, and that most intimately, +--so much, indeed, that the adjustment of the grades and curvatures +must determine the power, form, and whole construction of the engine. +This is a fact but little appreciated by the managers of our roads; +when the engineer has completed the road-bed proper, including the +bridging and masonry, he is considered as done with; and as the +succeeding superintendent of machinery is not at that time generally +appointed, the duty of obtaining the necessary locomotive power +devolves upon the president or contractor, or some other person who +knows nothing whatever of the requirements of the road; and as he +generally goes to some particular friend, perhaps even an associate, +he of course takes such a pattern of engine as the latter builds, +--and the consequence is that not one out of fifty of our roads has +steam-power in any way adapted to the duty it is called upon to +perform. + +There is no nicer problem connected with the establishment of a +railroad, than, having given the grades, the nature of the traffic, +and the fuel to be used, to obtain therefrom by pure mechanical and +chemical laws the dimensions complete for the locomotives which +shall effect the transport of trains in the most economical manner; +and there is no problem that, until quite lately, has been more +totally neglected.[3] + +Of the whole cost of working a railroad about one third is +chargeable to the locomotive department; from which it is plain that +the most proper adaptation is well worth the careful attention of the +engineer. Though it is generally considered that the proper person +to select the locomotive power can be none other than a practical +machinist, and though he would doubtless select the best workmanship, +yet, if not acquainted with the general principles of locomotion, and +aware of the character of the road and of the expected traffic, and +able to judge, (not by so-called experience, but by real knowledge,) +he may get machinery totally unfit for the work required of it. +Indeed, American civil engineers ought to qualify themselves to +equip the roads they build; for none others are so well acquainted +with the road as those who from a thorough knowledge of the matter +have established the grades and the curvatures. + +The difference between adaptation and non-adaptation will plainly be +seen by the comparison below. The railway from Boston to Albany may +be divided into four sections, of which the several lengths and +corresponding maximum grades are as tabulated. + + Length in miles. Steepest grade + Boston to Worcester, 44 30 + Worcester to Springfield, 541/2 50 + Springfield to Pittsfield, 52 83 + Pittsfield to Albany, 431/2 45 + +A load of five hundred tons upon a grade of thirty feet per mile +requires of the locomotive a drawing-power of 11,500 lbs. + + Upon a 50 feet grade 15,500 lbs. + Upon an 83 feet grade 22,500 lbs. + Upon a 45 feet grade 14,500 lbs. + +Now, if the engines are all alike, (as they are very nearly,) and +each is able to exert a drawing-power of five thousand pounds to +move a load of five hundred tons from Boston to Albany, we need as +follows: + + B. to W.--11500/5000 or 2 engines. + W. to S.--15500/5000 or 3 engines. + S. to P.--22500/5000 or 5 engines. + P. to A.--14500/5000 or 3 engines. + +From which the whole number of miles run by engines for one whole +trip would be,-- + + B. to W. 44 miles by 2 engines, or 88 + W. to S. 541/2 miles by 3 engines, or 1631/2 + S. to P. 52 miles by 5 engines, or 260 + P. to A. 491/2 miles by 3 engines, or 1481/2 + ______ + And the sum, 660 + +Now suppose, that, by making the engines for the several divisions +strong in proportion to the resistance encountered upon these +divisions, one engine only is employed upon each; our mileage becomes, + + B. to W. 44 by 1 or 44 + W. to S. 541/2 by 1 or 541/2 + S. to P. 52 by 1 or 52 + P. to A. 49 by 1 or 491/2 + _____ + And the sum, 200 miles. + +And the saving of miles run is therefore 660 less 200, or 460; and if +500 tons pass over the road daily, the annual saving of mileage +becomes 460 by 313, or 143,980, or 70 per cent. of the whole. The +actual cost for freight-locomotives per ton, per mile run, during +the year ending Sept. 30, 1855, was 384/1000 of a cent; and the above +143,980 miles saved, multiplied by this fraction, amounts to +$55,288 per annum. The actual expense of working the power will not +of course show the whole 70 per cent. of saving, as heavy and strong +engines cost more at first, and cost more to operate, than lighter +ones; but the figures show the effect of correct adaptation. If we +call the saving 50 per cent. only of the mileage, we have then +(as the locomotive power consumes 30/100 of the whole cost of +operating) 50/100 of 30/100, or 15/100, of the whole cost of working +the road, and this by simply knowing how to adapt the machinery to +the requirement. + +So very slight are the points of difference between a good and a bad +engine, that they often escape the eye of those whose business it is +to deal with such works. It is not the brass and steel and bright +metal and elaborate painting that make the really good and +serviceable engine,--but the length, breadth, and depth of its +furnace, the knowledge of proportion shown in its design, and the +mechanical skill exhibited in the fitting of its parts. The +apparently complex portions are really very simple in action, while +the apparently simple parts are those where the greatest knowledge +is required. Any man of ordinary mechanical acquirements can design +and arrange the general form,--the whole mass of cranks, pistons, +connecting-rods, pumps, and the various levers for working the engine; +but to find the correct dimensions of the inner parts of the boiler, +and of the valve-gearing, by which the movements of the steam are +governed, requires a very considerable knowledge of the chemistry of +combustion, of practical geometry, and of the physical properties of +steam. So nice, indeed, is the valve-adjustment of the locomotive, +as depending upon the work it has to do, whether fast or slow, light +or heavy, that a single eighth of an inch too much or too little +will so affect its power as to entirely unfit it for doing its duty +with any degree of economy. + +When a single man takes the general charge of five hundred miles of +railroad, upon which the annual pay-roll is a million of dollars, +and which employs over two hundred locomotives and three thousand +cars, earning five million dollars a year,--a road which cost +thirty-three million, has five miles in length of bridges, and over +four hundred buildings,--it is plain that the system of operation +must be somewhat elaborate. And so it is. Indeed, so complete is the +organization and management of _employees_ upon the New York and +Erie Railroad, that the General Superintendent at his office can at +any moment tell within a mile where each car or engine is, what it +is doing, the contents of the car, the consignor and consignee, the +time at which it arrives and leaves each station, (the _actual_ time, +not the time when it _should_ arrive,) and is thus able to correct +all errors almost at the moment of commission, and in reality to +completely control the road. + +The great regulator upon long lines of railroad is the electric +telegraph, which connects all parts of the road, and enables one +person to keep, as it were, his eye on the whole road at once. + +A single-track railroad, says Mr. McCallum, may be rendered more +safe and efficient by a proper use of the telegraph than a +double-track railroad without,--as the double-tracks commonly +obviate collisions which occur between trains moving in _opposite_ +directions, whilst the telegraph may be used effectually in +preventing them between trains moving either in _opposite_ +directions or in the _same_ direction; and it is a well-established +fact, deduced from the history of railroads both in Europe and in +this country, that collisions from trains moving in the _same_ +direction have proved by far the most fatal and disastrous, and +should be the most carefully guarded against. + +From the admirable report of Mr. McCallum, above referred to, we take +the following:--Collisions between fast and slow trains moving in +the same direction are prevented by the following rule: 'The +conductor of a slow train will report himself to the Superintendent +of Division immediately on arrival at a station where, by the +time-table, he should be overtaken by a faster train; and he shall +not leave that station until the fast train passes, without special +orders from the Superintendent of Division.' A slow train, under +such circumstances, may, at the discretion of the Division +Superintendent, be directed to proceed; he, being fully apprised of +the position of the delayed train, can readily form an opinion as to +the propriety of doing so; and thus, while the delayed train is +permitted to run without regard to the slow one, the latter can be +kept entirely out of its way. + +"The passing-place for trains is fixed and determined, with orders +positive and defined that neither shall proceed beyond that point +until after the arrival of the other; whereas, in the absence of the +telegraph, conductors are governed by general rules, and their +individual understanding of the same,--which rules are generally to +the effect, that, in case of detention, the train arriving first at +the regular passing-place shall, after waiting a few moments, +_proceed cautiously_ (expecting to meet the other train, which is +generally running as much faster, to make up lost time, as the +cautious train is slower) until they have met and passed; the one +failing to reach the half-way point between stations being required +to back,--a dangerous expedient always,--an example of which +operation was furnished at the disaster on the Camden and Amboy +Railroad near Burlington; the delayed train further being subjected +to the same rule in regard to all other trains of the same class it +may meet, thus pursuing its hazardous and uncertain progress during +the entire trip." + +The following table shows the rate and direction of subordination +for a first-class railroad:-- + + General Superintendent. + + Superintendent Roadmaster. Section men. + of road. Roadmaster. Section men. + Roadmaster. Section men. + + Foreman of machine-shop. Machinists. + Foreman of blacksmith's shop Blacksmiths. + Superintendent Foreman of carpenter's shop. Carpenters. + of Machinery. Foreman of paint-shop Painters. + Engineers (not on trains). Firemen. + Car-masters. Oilers and cleaners. + Brakemen. + + Conductors. Engineers (on trains). + Ticket-collectors. + General passenger-agent. Mail agents. + Station agents. Hackmen. + Switchmen. + Express agents. + Police. + Conductors. Brakemen. + Engineers (on trains). + + General freight-agent. Station agents. + Weighers and gaugers. + Yard masters. + + Supply agent. Clerks and teamsters furnishing supplies. + Fuel agent. All men employed about wood-sheds. + +All subordinates should be accountable to and directed by _their +immediate superiors only_. Each officer must have authority, with +the approval of the general superintendent, to appoint all _employees_ +for whose acts he is responsible, and to dismiss any one, when, in +his judgment, the interests of the company demand it. + +Fast travelling is one of the most dangerous as well as one of the +most expensive luxuries connected with the railroad system. Few +companies in America have any idea what their express-trains cost +them. Indeed, the proper means of obtaining quick transport are not +at all understood. It is not by forcing the train at an excessively +high speed, but by reducing the number of stops. A train running +four hundred miles, and stopping once in fifty minutes,--each stop, +including coming to rest and starting, being five minutes,--to pass +over the whole distance in eight hours, must run fifty-five miles +per hour; stopping once in twenty minutes, sixty-three miles per hour; +and stopping once in ten minutes, eighty-six miles per hour. + +The proportions in which the working expenses are distributed under +the several heads are nearly as follows:-- + + Management 7 + Road-repairs 16 + Locomotives 35 + Cars 38 + Sundries 4 + ____ + In all 100 + +And the percentage of increase due to fast travelling, to be applied +to the several items of expense, with the resulting increase in +total expense, this:-- + + Management 7 increased by 0 per cent. is 0.0 + Road-repairs 16 do. 27 do. 4.3 + Locomotives 35 do. 30 do. 10.5 + Cars 38 do. 10 do. 3.8 + Sundries 4 do. 0 do. 0.0 + ____ ____ + 100 And the whole increase 18.6 + +The causes of accident beyond the control of passengers are,-- + + Collision by opposition, + Collision by overtaking, + Derailment by switches misplaced, + Derailment by obstacles on the track, + Breakage of machinery, + Failure of bridges, + Fire, + Explosion. + +Those causes which are aggravated by fast travelling are the first, +second, fifth, and sixth. The effects of all are worse at high than +at low velocities. + +The proportion of accidents due to each of these causes, taken at +random from one hundred cases on English roads, (American reports do +not detail such information with accuracy,) were,-- + + Collision 56 56 + Breakage of machinery 18 18 + Failure of road 14 14 + + Misplaced switches 5 + Obstacles on rails 6 + Boiler explosions 1 + __ ___ + 88 100 + +Eighty-eight per cent. being from those causes which are aggravated +by increase of speed; and if we suppose the amount of aggravation to +augment as the speed, the danger of travelling is eighty-eight per +cent. greater by a fast than by a slow train. + +These are the direct evils of high speeds; there are also indirect +evils, which are full as bad. + +All trains in motion at the same time, within a certain distance of +the express, must be kept waiting, with steam up, or driven at extra +velocities to keep out of the way. + +Where the time-table is so arranged as to call for speed nearly +equal to the full capacity of the engine, it is very obvious that +the risks of failure in "making time" must be much greater than at +reduced rates; and when they do occur, the efforts made to gain the +time must be correspondingly greater and uncertain. A single example +will be sufficient to show this. + +A train, whose prescribed rate of speed is thirty miles per hour, +having lost five minutes of time, and being required to gain it in +order to meet and pass an opposing train at a station ten miles +distant, must necessarily increase its speed to forty miles per hour; +and a train, whose prescribed rate of speed is forty miles per hour, +under similar circumstances, must increase its speed to sixty miles +per hour. In the former case it would probably be accomplished, +whilst in the latter it would more probably result in failure,--or, +if successful, it would be so at fearful risk of accident. + +However true it may be that many of our large roads are well, some +of them admirably, managed, it is none the less a fact that the +greater portion are directed in a manner far from satisfactory,--many, +indeed, being subjected to the combined influence of ignorance and +recklessness. + +Many people wonder at the bad financial state of the American +railroads; the wonder is, to those who understand the way in which +they are managed, that they should be worth anything at all. It is +useless to disguise the fact, says a writer in one of our +railroad-papers, that the great body of our railroad-directors are +entirely unfit for their position. They are, personally, a very +respectable class of men, (Schuylerisms and Tuckermanisms excepted,) +--men who, after having passed through their active business-lives +successfully, and after retirement, are, in the minds of some, +eminently fitted to adorn a director's chair. Never was there a +greater mistake. What is wanted for a railway-director is an active, +clear-headed man, who has not outlived his term of activity. We want +railway-directors who know how to reduce the operating-expenses per +mile, and not men who oppose their bigoted ignorance to everything +like change or improvement, who can see no difference between science +and abstract ideas. It would seem that the only question to be asked +with regard to the fitness of a man for being a director is--Is he +rich and respectable? If he has these qualities, and is pretty +stupid withal, he is in a fair line for election. We tell our +railway-readers, that, if they desire to make their property valuable, +and rescue it from becoming a byword and a reproach, they have got +to elect men of an entirely different stamp,--men of practical +experience, in the best sense of the term, who have intelligence +enough to know and apply all those vital reforms upon which depends +the future success of their undertakings,--the men of the workshop, +the track, and the locomotive. And we shall yet see the more +intelligent of them taking the place, at the directors' board, of +the retired merchants, physicians, and other respectable gentlemen, +who now lend only the names of their respectability to perpetuate a +system of folly that has reduced our railroad-management below +contempt. As at present constituted, our boards are a very showy, +but very useless piece of mechanism. The members attend at meetings +when they feel just like it, and sign their names to documents and +statements which have been prepared for them by others, without much +knowledge of what the contents are; their other duties consisting +chiefly in riding over their own and connecting roads, free of charge. + +Why should railway-directors work for nothing for the stockholders? +Ah, Messrs. Stockholders, you little know in reality how fat a +salary your directors make to themselves, by nice little commissions, +by patronizing their favorite builders of locomotives and cars, and +by buying the thousand and one patents that are so urgently +recommended! Do you carry your broken watch to a blacksmith or to a +stone-mason to be mended? Neither, we think. Why, then, do you leave +the management of a work which engineers, machinists, carpenters, +masons, and men of almost every trade, have spent time and care upon +to build, to the respectable merchant, lawyer, or banker, who thinks +the best road that which has the softest cushions and the most +comfortable seats on which to ride? + +Railroad-building, remarks a late writer, (Mr. Whiton,) may be +divided into three periods,--the first, the _introductory_, in which +roads were a sort of experimental enterprise, where the men who +labored expected to be paid for their time or money, and were +willing to wait a reasonable time for the expected profit. Second, +the _speculative_ period, when men were possessed with an unhealthy +desire for fortune-making, and, not content to wait the natural +harvest of the seed sown, departed from the sound and honest +principles of construction and management; trying, at first, by all +sorts of pretence and misrepresentation, to conceal, and last by +legislation to counterbalance, the results of their ignorance and of +their insane desires. Railroads were compared, as an investment, to +banks; and it was even supposed that the more they cost the more +they would divide; and tunnels, rock-cuts, and viaducts were then as +much sought after as they are now avoided. Shrewd and intelligent +business-men, who had made for themselves fortunes, embraced these +ridiculous opinions, and seemed at once, upon taking hold of +railroad-enterprises, to lose whatever of common sense they before +might have possessed; and even at the present day these same men +have not the manly honesty to acknowledge their errors, but endeavor +to cover them up with greater.--The third period is that of _reaction_, +which embraces the present time. To a person unacquainted with the +management of railroads, to see a body of men, no one of whom has +ever before had anything to do with mechanical operations, assembled +to decide upon the relative merits of the different plans of bridges +or of locomotives or cars, upon the best means of reducing the +working-expenses of a machine of whose component parts they have not +the slightest idea, of the most complicated and elaborate piece of +mechanism that men have ever designed, might at first seem absurd; +but custom has made it right. It is generally supposed that the +moment a man, be he lawyer, doctor, or merchant, is chosen director +in a railroad enterprise, immediately he becomes possessed of all +knowledge of mechanics, finance, and commerce; but, judging from past +experience, it appears in reality that he leaves behind at such time +whatever common sense he perchance possessed before; otherwise why +does he not follow the same correct business-rules, when managing +the property of others, as when he accumulated his own? A man who +should show as much carelessness and ignorance, when operating for +himself, as railway-directors do when operating for others, would be +considered as a fit subject for an insane asylum. + +When railroads are built where they are needed, at the time they are +wanted, in a country able to support them, by permanent investors, +and not by speculators, and are well made by good engineers, and +well managed by competent men, whose interest is really connected +with the success of the enterprise, then they will pay, and be +railroads indeed. But so long as money is obtained on false pretences, +to be played for by State and Wall Street gamblers on the one hand, +and ravenous contractors on the other hand, they will be what they +are,--worthless monuments of extravagance and folly. + +"Experience keeps a dear school," says poor Richard, "but fools will +learn in no other." + +Let not the reader think for a single moment that we have no +appreciation of the labors of a De Witt Clinton, or of a Livingston, +--that we at all underrate the services of the Eastern capitalists +who render available the public-land grants of the West, whether to +build ship-canals or railroads. We have the highest respect for that +talent without which our Western lands would still be left to the +buffalo and the deer, and the gold and silver of Europe would remain +on the other side of the Atlantic. These capitalists are the +mainsprings of the system; but we should no more apply their energy +and skill to the detailed operation of so mechanical a structure as +a railroad, than we should attach the mainspring of a watch to the +hands directly, without the intermediate connecting chains and wheels. + +Not less incompetent for the construction of railways, than are the +directors for the management of the completed roads, are at least +one half of the so-called engineers in America. Obliged to complete +no course of education, to pass no examination, they are at once let +loose upon the country whenever they feel like it, to build what go +by the names of railroads and bridges, but are in reality traps in +which to lose both life and money. Indeed, any man (in the United +States) who has carried a rod or chain is called an engineer; while +the correct definition is, a man who has, first, a thorough knowledge +of mechanics, mathematics, and chemistry,--second, the knowledge +necessary for applying these sciences to the arts,--and last, the +knowledge requisite to the correct adaptation of such arts to the +wants of man, but more than all, that experience which is got only +from continual practice. We have such a class of engineers, and to +them we owe what of fame we have in the engineering world. Second, +comes another grade, men who, commencing as subordinates, without +any preparatory knowledge, but with natural genius, and an intuitive +knowledge of mechanics, need only to have their ideas generalized to +see the bearing of their special knowledge upon the whole, in order +to rank high in the profession. Third, a class who lack both natural +and acquired knowledge, and whose only recommendation is that they +are always for sale to the highest bidder, whether he be president, +director, or contractor; sometimes working nominally for the company, +but really for the contractor,--or in some cases, so debased is this +class of persons, for both contractor and company openly. Of late +years this prostitution of mongrel engineers has had place to an +alarming extent. Let us hope that the old professional pride, and, +better still, a love of truth and honesty for their own sake, may +yet triumph, and place real engineers high above the dead level to +which ignorance and pretence and venality have degraded the +profession. + +[Footnote 1: _Handbook of Railroad Construction_, for the Use of +American Engineers. By GEORGE L. VOSE, Civil Engineer. Boston and +Cambridge: James Munroe & Company. 1857. + +_Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Reports_, from 1830 to 1850. BENJAMIN +H. LATROBE, Chief Engineer. + +_Railways and their Management_, being a Pamphlet written by JAMES +M. WHITON, ESQ., late of the Boston, Concord, and Montreal Railroad. +1856. + +_Report of the President, Treasurer, and General Superintendent of +the New York and Erie Railroad Company to the Stockholders_. March, +1856. + +_Final Report of_ JOHN A. ROEBLING, _Civil Engineer on the Niagara +Railway Suspension-Bridge_, May, 1855.] + +[Footnote 2: Lest these statements should sound extravagant, the +reader will please reckon up the amounts for himself. A bank +twenty-five feet wide on top, eight hundred feet long, and two +hundred and thirty feet high, would contain two million cubic yards +of earth; which, at twenty-five cents per yard, would cost half a +million of dollars, exclusive of a culvert to pass the river, of +sixty, eighty, or one hundred feet span and seven hundred feet long. +Twenty trains per day, of thirty cars each, one car holding two yards, +would be twelve hundred yards per day; two million, divided by +twelve hundred, gives 1,666 days.] + +[Footnote 3: The most careless observer has doubtless noticed that +the front part of a locomotive rests upon the centre of a track, +having four small wheels; the back and middle part, he will also +remember, is borne upon large spoke wheels,--which are connected +with the machinery; upon the size of these last depend the power and +speed of the engine. The larger the wheels, the less the power, and +the higher the velocity which may be got; again, the wheel remaining +of the same size, by enlarging the dimensions of the cylinders the +power is increased; and the wheels and cylinders remaining the same, +by enlarging the boiler we can make stronger steam and thus increase +the power. There may be seen upon the road from Boston to +Springfield engines with wheels nearly seven feet in diameter, used +for drawing light express-trains; while upon the roads ascending the +Alleghanies may be seen wheels of only three and a half feet diameter, +which are employed in drawing trains up the steep grades. Increase +of steepness of grades acts upon the locomotive in the same manner +as increase of actual load; as upon a level the natural tendency of +the engine is to stand still, while on an incline the tendency is to +roll backwards down-hill.] + + + * * * * * + + + + +HER GRACE, THE DRUMMER'S DAUGHTER. + +[Concluded.] + +The girl whose suggestion had brought about this change in her +father's household, introducing anxiety and tears and pain where +these were almost strangers, was not exceeding joyous in view of what +she had done. But she was resolved and calm. It was everything to her, +that night when she lay down to rest, to know that the same roof +that covered her was also spread above the prisoner, and all the +joys of youth passed into forgetfulness as she thought and vowed to +herself concerning the future. + +It seemed, perhaps, a state of things involving no consequences, +this sympathy that Elizabeth had shared with the gardener Sandy, +when the prisoner's eyes gazed on them from his window, or turned +towards them while he walked in the garden; but Sandy said to himself, +when she told him that they were to have Laval's place in the prison, +"_It took her_!"--neither did it seem incredible to him when she +assured him that the new house was like home. He honestly believed +that with the child--child he considered her--all things were +possible. + +What he had lacked and missed so long that the restoration had a +charm of novelty about it, added to its own excellency, was now the +prisoner's portion. Good manners, kind and courteous voices, greeted +eyes and ears once more. As in the days of Joan Laval, a woman was +now sometimes in attendance on the prisoner. But in not one +particular did Pauline Montier resemble Joan Laval. She called +herself a soldier's wife, and was exact and brave accordingly. She +was thoughtful of her husband's charge, and when she paused in her +efforts for his comfort and content, it was because she had +exhausted the means within her reach, but not her wit in devising. + +The effect was soon manifest. The prisoner received this care and +sympathy as he might have received the ministration of angels. The +attendance was almost entirely confined to Montier and his wife, but +now and then Elizabeth also could serve him. She served him with her +heart, with unobtrusive zeal that was exhaustless as the zeal of love. +Unobserved, she watched, as well as waited on him; and oh, how +jealous and impatient of time and authority did she become! Her pity +knew no limit; it beamed from her eyes, spoke through her voice, was +unceasing in activity. He was to her a romance terrible and sweet, a +romance that had more abundant fascination than the world could show +beside. + +She went up to his room one morning, carrying his breakfast. Her +father had been ordered to the barracks, and her mother was not well; +the service therefore fell upon her. + +The prisoner did not seem to heed her when she entered; at least, he +gave no sign, until she approached him, and even then was not the +first to speak. Going to the window, her eyes followed his to the +garden below. + +"It looks well this morning," she said, pleasantly. + +"Yes,--but I have seen prettier," he answered. + +"Where?" she asked, so quickly that Manuel almost smiled as he +looked at her before he answered. He knew why she spoke thus, and +was not offended by the compassion of her sympathy. + +"In my own home, Elizabeth," he answered. + +"Aren't you _ever_ going back to it, Sir?" she asked, hurriedly. + +He did not reply. + +"Won't you ever see it again?" she persisted. + +"Banishment,--a prisoner for life," said he, for the first time +explaining to any person his dread sentence. + +Elizabeth Montier quietly pondered the words thus spoken. + +"If you had your freedom," said she, "would you go back to your own +country?--Your breakfast is cooling, Sir." + +Manuel looked at her,--she bore his scrutiny with composure,--then +he came to the table, sat down, and broke his bread, before he +answered this bold speaking. + +"Yes," said he, at length. "An honorable man is bound to keep his +honor clean. Mine has been blackened by some false accusation. I owe +it to all who ever believed in me to clear it, if I can." + +"And besides, your home is there." + +"Yes." + +"Oh, if you would only tell me about it! I don't want to know for +anybody else,--only for you. Did you leave many behind, that--that +loved you, Mr. Manuel?" + +"Yes," said the prisoner,--but he said no more. + +This answer was sufficient; with it Elizabeth walked away from the +table where he sat, and took her stand by the window. By-and-by she +said, speaking low, but with firm accent,-- + +"I am sorry I asked you anything about it; but I will never speak of +it again. I heard it was for religion; but I know you could not hurt +the Truth. They said you fought against the Church. Then I believe +the Church was wrong. I am not afraid to say it. I want you to +understand. Of course I cannot do anything for you; only I was so in +hopes that I could! You must not be angry with me, Sir, for hoping +that." + +The integrity of nature that spoke in these words came to the +hearer's heart with wondrous power and freshness. He looked at +Elizabeth; she was gazing full on him, and lofty was the bearing of +the girl; she had set her own fears and all danger and suspicion at +defiance in these words. Partly he saw and understood, and he +answered,-- + +"I am not angry. You surprised me. I know you are not curious on +your own account. But you can do nothing for me. I did fight against +the Church, but not any Church that you know. I fought against an +intolerant organization, boundless superstition, shameful idolatry, +because it was making a slave and a criminal of the world.--You can +do nothing for me." + +"Nothing?" + +"No, dear child, nothing." + +"Is it because you think I am a child that you say so?" asked +Elizabeth. "I am not a child. I knew you must be innocent. I will do +anything for you that any one can do. Try me." + +The prisoner looked again at the pleader. Truly, she was not a child. +It is not in childhood to be nerved by such courage and such longing +as were in her speech, as that speech was endorsed by her bearing. +His thought toward her seemed to change in this look. + +"Can you write, Elizabeth?" asked he. + +"I can write," she answered, proudly, standing forward like a young +brave eager for orders. "I can write. My father taught me." + +"You might write"-- + +"A letter?" she asked, breathless. + +"Yes." He paused and considered, then continued,--"You might write +to--you might write to my friend, and tell her about the garden, +and how I am now allowed to walk in it,--and about your father and +your mother,--about yourself, too; anything that will make this +place seem pleasant to her. You know the pleasant side of Foray, +--give her that." + +"Yes. Is she your mother?" + +"No." + +"Your sister, Sir?" + +"No, Elizabeth. She and I were to have been married." + +"Oh, Sir,--and you in Foray,--in a prison,--so far away!" + +"Wide apart as death could put us. And shall I let you write to her? +Yes! we will triumph over this death and this grave!" + +"By me!--yes,--I will tell her,--it shall surely be by me," said +Elizabeth, in a low voice. + +"Then tell her;--you will be able, I know, to think of a great deal +that is comforting. I should not remember it, I'm afraid, if I could +write the letter. Tell her what fine music I have. You can say +something, too, about the garden, as I said. You can speak of the +view from this window. See! it is very fine. You can tell her--yes, +you can tell her now, that I am well, Elizabeth." + +"Oh, Sir, can I tell her you are well?" + +"Yes,--yes,--say so. Besides, it is true. But you must add that I +have no hope now of our meeting in this world. She can bear it, for +she is strong, like you. She, too, is a soldier's daughter. If you +will say those things, I will tell you her name. That shall be our +secret." In this speech his tone was altogether that of one who +takes the place of a comforter. + +"Yes," said Elizabeth, calm and attentive. It was quite impossible +that she should so mistake as to allow the knowledge that was +quickening her perception into pain to appear. + +"You must tell her about yourself," said he, again. + +"What shall I say? There is nothing about myself to tell, Mr. Manuel." + +"Is there not? That would be strange. Tell her what music you like +best to hear your father play. She will understand you by that. Tell +her anything,--she will not call it a trifle. What if she answers +you in the same mood? Should we call it foolish, if she told us her +thoughts, and the events that take place daily in her quiet life? +You can tell her what songs you love to sing. And if she does not +know them, she will learn them, Elizabeth. Tell her how much it +comforts me to hear you sing. Tell her, that, if she has prayed some +light might shine on me from Heaven, her prayer is answered. For it +is true. You serve me like an angel, and I see it all. Tell her she +must love you for my sake,--though there is no need to tell her.--Do +you see?" + +"I see." + +"Tell her I remember"--There he faltered; he could say no more. + +"Yes," said Elizabeth, "I will,--I will tell her everything, +Mr. Manuel,--everything that it would comfort her to hear." + +She had written letters now and then. Great pride Montier and +Pauline took in their daughter's skilful use of pen and ink, and +pencil,--for Elizabeth could sketch as well as write. There was +nothing new or strange, therefore, in her addressing this +conversation to a spirit. But, also, there was nothing easy in this +task, though she had the mighty theme of faithful love to dwell upon, +and love's wondrous inspiration to enlighten her labor. + +The description to be given of island scenery was such as she had +given more than once, in writing to her distant, unknown relatives. +She need vary only slightly from what she had written before, when +she gave report of her own daily life. She was always eloquent when +talking about the flowers or her father's music. + +But this she had undertaken was not a repetition of what she had +done before. With painful anxiety she scrutinized her words, her +thoughts, her feelings. The work was a labor of love; the loving best +know what anguish their labor sometimes costs them. The pain of this +letter was not fairly understood by her who endured it,--it could +not be shared. + +Why was she so cautious? why in her caution lurked so much of fear? +Perhaps she might have answered, if questioned by one she trusted, +that further intrusion of herself than should serve as a veil for +the really important information she had to convey would be cruel +intrusion. But there was a very different reason; it had to do with +the sudden revelation made to herself when her father wept at the +prisoner's hard fate,--a revelation that terrified her, and +influenced every succeeding movement; it had to do with the +illumination that came when Manuel told her the sad secret of his +heart,--with that moment when she stood up stronger in love than in +fear, stronger in devotion than in pride, strong for self-sacrifice, +like one who bears a charmed life pierced to the heart, and never so +capable as then. + +More than once did Elizabeth rewrite that letter. More than once in +the progress to its completion did she break away from the strange +task, that had evidence of strangeness or of labor, to seek in the +garden, or with her needle, or in the society of father or mother, +deliverance from the trouble that disturbed her. In the toils of +many an argument with her heart and conscience was she caught; but +even through her doubting of the work she had engaged to perform, +she persevered in its continuance, till the letter was ready for +address. + +It was surely right to aid, and comfort by such aid, one so +unfortunate as this prisoner; yet her parents must not be implicated +by such transaction. Therefore they must be kept in ignorance, that, +if blame fell anywhere, it might not fall on them. So she satisfied +her conscience;--love will not calculate coldly. But it was less +easy to satisfy her heart. + +She had lived but sixteen years; she looked to her youth as to a +protector, while it rebuked her. She leaned upon it, while daily she +took to herself the part of womanhood, its duties and its dignity. +He had called her a child; she called herself a child. She was +careful to let this estimate of herself appear in that letter; and +in what she undertook she was entirely successful; Madeline +Desperiers would be sure to read it as the letter of a child. + +When all was done Elizabeth repeated to Manuel the substance of this +letter. He praised it. Jealous scrutiny would find it difficult to +lay its finger on a passage, and condemn the writer for evading the +law concerning the prisoner. When she signed and sealed the letter, +addressed it, and carried it away with her to mail, he was satisfied; +his praise was sweet to the girl who had earned it. + +No sooner was this work off her hands than another engaged her. With +a purpose prompted may-be by her angel, certainly by no human word, +and unshared by any human intelligence, Elizabeth began to make a +sketch of the island as seen from Manuel's prison-window. She made +the sketch from memory, correcting it by observation when occasion +called her to the prisoner's room. + +At length she brought the sheet of paper, on which this sketch was +drawn, to Manuel, and laid it before him. She did this without any +accompanying word of explanation. In the foreground was the garden, +stretching up the slope of the hill towards the top, where the +fort-wall began; beyond, fort, barracks, settlement,--and still +beyond, the sea. The island of Foray, as thus represented, appeared +like many other views on paper, very pleasing and attractive. Nature +is not responsible for sin and suffering, that she should veil her +glory wherever these may choose to pitch their tent. + +The prisoner took the drawing from the table where she had laid it, +and scanned it closely. + +"You have left out my house," said he. + +"There was no room for it," she answered. + +"True!" He understood her. "Do you know whom this is for, Mr. Manuel? + +"Whom is it for, Elizabeth?" + +"For Madeline; is it a pretty view?" + +"Really for her, Elizabeth?" + +"Surely. Her eyes shall look on the same view as yours." + +"The fort, flag, sea-wall, burial-ground, ocean, barracks, garden; +--it is well done.--Now I will tell you of the place where it will +find her." + +He paused a moment ere he began that description. He looked at the +quiet figure of the child for whom he dared recall the past. She +stood with folded hands, so fair, so young, the sight was a +refreshment, and a strange assurance always, to his weary eyes and +weary heart. Never did she look so lovely to him as now when he was +about to speak again to her of his life's love for another. + +"It was once a magnificent estate," he began. + +"Oh, is she a grand lady?" broke from Elizabeth. + +"Yes, a grand lady. You speak well," replied Manuel, with a smile. +"The estate was once ten times as large as this island. Towns and +villages are built over the land now, but the old house stands as it +has stood through ten generations. There she lives. If she stands by +the library-window today, she can see the church built by her +great-grandfather, and the little town of Desperiers, which had in +his day a population of tenantry. She can see the ponds and the park, +and a garden where there are hothouses, and graperies, and +conservatories, and winding walks where you might walk all day and +find something new to surprise and delight you at every turn. There +is a tower that commands a view of fifty miles in one direction. The +old house is full of treasure. She is mistress of all,--the only +representative of a long line of noble men and beautiful women who +have dispensed magnificent hospitality there. The last time I saw her, +Elizabeth, she was standing in the library, a woman so beautiful and +so strong you would not have thought that trouble could approach her. +It came through me. I opened those ancient gates for the black train, +--I, who loved no mortal as I loved her! But I lost her in my fight +for Truth. Shall I complain? Her heart was with mine in that struggle. +Cannot Truth comfort her?" + +"She is not lost to you. Sir,--you are not lost to her," cried +Elizabeth, in a voice as strong as breaks sometimes through dying +agony. + +"I know," said he, more gently. His thought was not the same as hers; +he was taking refuge in that future which remains to the loving when +this life wholly fails in hope. + +"You shall go back to that old place, Sir! You shall--you two--shall +forget all this!" + +The prisoner smiled to hear her,--a sad smile, yet a sweet smile too. +He did not despise the comfort she would give him, nor resent her +presumptuous speech. + +"As when I dream sometimes," said he, gently,--"or in some pleasant +vision. Yes, that is true, Elizabeth. I have been back, and I shall +go again." + +Vehemently now she broke forth. It was love defying the whole +universe, if the whole universe opposed itself to the sovereign +rights of love, the divine strength and the divine courage of love. +--"You shall go on board some vessel, a passenger; you shall see +with your own eyes; your hands shall be free to gather the sweetest +rose that--ever blossomed in the world for you. Mr. Manuel, do not +look so doubting,--do not smile so! Am I not in earnest? Do you not +hear me? As God lives, and as I live, I will do what I promise. Why, +what do you think I am here for?" + +Wondering, doubting if he heard aright, Manuel looked at Elizabeth. +The painful, kindly smile, the incredulity, had disappeared from his +face; the power and confidence of her words seemed to persuade him +that at least she purposed seriously and was not uttering mere wishes. +It might be the enthusiasm and generosity of a child that inspired +her speech, but its determination and gravity of utterance demanded +at least a respectful hearing. + +"What do you mean, Elizabeth?" he asked. + +"I mean that I will go home and explain, and you shall be set free." + +He shook his head. "There is nothing to be explained," said he. +"I am not here by mistake. I am very clearly guilty, if there is +guilt in doing what I am accused of. The hearts of those who +condemned me must be changed, and their eyes opened, or I shall +never be set free." + +"God chooses humble agents," she said, humbly. "David slew Goliath, +and he was but a lad. He will open the way for me, and by me change +the hearts of those who condemned, and by me open their eyes. +Therefore I shall go,--I shall surely go. Ah, Mr. Manuel, give me +the picture! It is all that you shall have of the island of Foray, +please Almighty God, when these doors are all open for you, and your +hands are free, Sir, and we tell you to come, for the vessel is +waiting!" + +She went out from the room while these words took solemn possession +of the place. She locked the door behind her;--no requirement of law +was to be neglected or withstood; she made him a prisoner whom she +would set free;--and from this interview she went away, not to +solitude, and the formation of secret plans, but, as became the +daughter of Adolphus and Pauline Montier, she went quietly, with that +repose of manner which distinguished her through almost every event, +back to her mother's chamber. + +There stood Adolphus Montier, drummer to the regiment, jailer to the +prisoner, father of Elizabeth,--loving man, whichever way you looked +at him. He had his French horn in his hands, and was about to raise +it to his lips; in a moment more a blast would have rung through the +house, for Adolphus was in one of his tempestuously happy moods. + +But his daughter's entrance arrested his purpose. Say, rather, the +expression of her face performed that feat. He saw, likewise, the +paper which she carried, the pencilled sketch,--and he followed her +with his eyes when she crossed the room and placed it on the mantel +under the engraving of the city of Fatherland. This act took the +parents to the fireplace, for discussion and criticism of their +daughter's work, and of the two homes now brought into contrasted +connection. + +"But you have left out the prison," was the comment of Adolphus. + +"I am glad of that," said Pauline. + +"But it is part of the island." + +"It ought to be left out, though," maintained his wife. + +"Where would you keep _him_, then?" asked Adolphus, a broad smile +spreading over his face. He knew well enough what the answer would be. + +"I'd set him adrift," was Pauline's reply, spoken without the least +pretence of caution. + +"Hush!" said her husband; but that was because he was the jailer. He +laughed outright close on this admonition, and asked Elizabeth if +she expected him to make a frame for this picture to hang opposite +Chalons. + +"No," she answered, "I am going to take it with me." + +"Where now?" asked the parents in one breath. + +"Oh, home,--Chalons." + +This reply seemed to merit some consideration, by the way the eyes +of Adolphus and Pauline regarded their child. They did not +understand her;--her meaning was deeper than her utterance. + +"To Chalons?" repeated Adolphus, quietly. + +"Home?" said Pauline;--it was almost the sweetest word she knew, +almost the easiest of utterance. + +"You have promised me a hundred times that I should go. Did you mean +it? May I go? You wish me to see the old place and the old people. +But the old place is changing, and the old people are dying. Soon, +if I go to Chalons, it will not be your Chalons I shall see." + +Dumb with wonder, Adolphus and Pauline looked at one another. To be +sure, they had done their best in order to excite in the breast of +Elizabeth such love of country as was worthy of their child, and +such curiosity about locality as would constrain her to cherish some +reverent regard for the place of their birth, the home of their +youthful love; but _never_ had they imagined the possibility of her +projecting a pilgrimage in that direction, except under their +guidance. They could hardly imagine it now. Often they had talked +over every step of that journey they would one day make together; +the progress was as familiar to Elizabeth as it could be made by the +description of another; but that they had succeeded in so awaking +the feeling of their child, that she should seriously propose making +the pilgrimage alone, passed their comprehension. + +"You know," said Adolphus, with a shrug, "your father is an officer, +and he cannot now leave his post. Are you going to take your mother +along with you?" + +He said these words at a venture, not certain of his ground. He was +not kept in suspense long. + +"My mother must not leave you," answered Elizabeth, greatly agitated, +and yet speaking strongly, as one whose will exceeded her emotion. + +"Then you go alone?" asked Adolphus, shortly. He could not +understand her, and was thoroughly vexed that he could not; +mysteries were not for him. "What is the matter? is it the prison? +Wife!" he turned to Pauline, but, as he looked at her, his +perplexity seemed to increase, as did his impatience also. + +Wife and daughter evidently were not in league against him; she, the +mother of his child, shared his anxiety and doubt. Tears were in her +eyes, and he had only been impatient!--she had passed so quickly to +an apprehension that was grievous, Adolphus stood the image of dismay. +Those three, so entirely one, seemed to have been thrust apart by a +resistless evil Fate who had some malignant purpose to serve. + +Not now for the first time did Pauline see that the young face +before her was pale, and grave with a gravity once unknown to it. It +might be, that, for the first time, she was asking herself outright +if this prison-life was to serve Elizabeth as it had served the wife +of Laval,--but not for the first time was she now visited by a +foreboding that pointed to this fear. + +"It is the prison," said she. + +"Elizabeth, is it so? Is this house going to be the death of you?" +asked Montier, abruptly,--referring the point with stern authority, +to the last person who would be likely to acknowledge the danger of +which he spoke. + +"If you think _so_, papa and mamma, I must give up the voyage, just +to prove that you are mistaken," answered she. + +"Look at her, Adolphus!" said Pauline; "remember what she was a year +ago! She's not the same now. I can see it. Strange if I could not! +Young people are different from old. I thought this place would +never seem like home to me, but I found out my mistake." + +"I knew you would," said Adolphus, quickly. + +"Of course it is the place for me, on the prisoner's account. I hate +the prison just the same, though. But if I was mistaken, so was +Elizabeth. She thought it would seem like home to her;--it never has; +it never will. But I do not think there is a chance of our being +kept here long by poor Mr. Manuel. Adolphus, I am for Elizabeth's +going home." + +"Colonel Farel and his lady are getting ready to go in the next +vessel," said Adolphus, as if in a sleep, or as though his power of +speech opposed and defied him in its activity,--so bewildered did he +look at his wife and daughter. + +"Oh, then, may I go? It is only out and back. I will not be long away. +Then we shall all go some day together, and never, never return." + +"That is my wish," said Pauline; "isn't it yours, Adolphus?" + +"Yes!" And this answer was given by a man who was neither asleep nor +bewildered, but by one who had put himself out of sight, and was +thinking only of others. + +Adolphus had not been as blind as Pauline must have supposed him when +she bade him remember what their daughter was a year ago. He, too, +had seen that the bloom was fading from her face, and by many a +device he had striven to divert the gravity, descending upon her, +from taking possession of her. Pauline's words revived every fear, +every anxiety he had felt for their child. Generous as impetuous, he +saw now only one thing to be done, one result to be accomplished. +Elizabeth must sail in the next vessel, and he was not the man to +know another quiet moment till that vessel hove in sight. That was +his way; why hesitate a twelvemonth, when a moment sufficed for a +decision, and the good and happiness of others were concerned in the +deciding? And it was not merely his way, as has been made +sufficiently apparent,--it was his wife's way, and his daughter's. + +Yet fain would Pauline have entered now upon a discussion of what +remained to be done; she could have gone on from this point at which +they suddenly found themselves standing so wistfully; she would have +made, in advance, every needful preparation and arrangement for +Elizabeth, up to the time of her return. But Adolphus was in no mood +for this. He must go and see Colonel Farel, he said, by way of excuse, +--and he must see the doctor. It would have been a dangerous +experiment, had Pauline persisted in the endeavor to discover how +much he could endure. Montier felt that he was not fit for family +deliberation now, and wisely made his escape from it. + +"I know," said Pauline, when she and her child were left together, +"I know why it is the best thing in the world for you to go on this +voyage,--but--I do not know how you came by the sudden wish to go, +--or if it is sudden, Elizabeth." + +No demand,--no confidence required,--not a request, even, to enter +into any secret counsel with her child. But that child saw the +relation in which she stood to the loving woman by her side, whose +eyes were gazing into her eyes, whose love was seeking to fathom her +heart, and she answered humbly, and with confidence,-- + +"I am going to your old home, my mother,--and to see if it is true +that Manuel is to die here in this abhorred prison. It is my secret, +--it is my errand. I trust you, for you love me; oh, love me, my +mother, and trust me! I dare not live, I cannot endure my freedom, +while he is wearing out his life in a prison. Am I ill? Has it worn +me to see him, this year past, dying by inches? I am glad of it,--I +am proud of it! Now I will see if there is any pity or justice among +rulers." + +Pauline Montier was confounded by this outbreak. She had expected no +such word as this she heard. It terrified her, for she was a loving +woman, and she thought she heard in the voice of her daughter the +voice of a woman who loved,--the impassioned, daring voice of one +whom love incited to action such as sober reason never would attempt. +She repented already the words she had spoken to her husband. She +had no power then, could not prevail then, or the misgivings which +sent Adolphus weeping into the wood, and not in search of doctor or +colonel, would have drawn him back to her side, and against their +love and their authority this girl had not prevailed. A question +trembled on her lips. But how should she ask it of her child? She +could not ask it of her child,--but as woman of woman. The simplest +and the shortest speech was best; and far away were curiosity and +authority. + +"Elizabeth, do you love this prisoner?" + +The answer did not linger. + +"He is dying,--a noble man perishing unrighteously! Oh, my mother, in +that land there is a lady waiting to know why the arm of the Lord so +long delays! He shall not die a prisoner! She loves him,--_he loves +her_. I will give them to each other. Only keep him alive till I come." + +"My child!" + +"Why do you weep?"--but Elizabeth, so speaking, bowed to the floor +by her mother's side, and wept with her, and the tender arms +maternal clasped her close; and the girl did not see when her +mother's eyes looked upward, nor did she hear when her mother's +voice said, with a saint's entreaty, and a lover's faith, "O Saviour!" + +That night Elizabeth went for the tray which her father had left in +the prisoner's room when he carried him his supper. No danger that +Adolphus would stand to gossip now with any man, for a moment. His +heart was sore at the prospect of his daughter's departure, at the +prospect of actual separation, every feature of which state of being +he distinctly anticipated; and yet he would have scorned himself, +had he thrown in the way anything like the shadow of an impediment +to her departure from Foray. So far from that, he was already doing +everything, in act and thought, by which that going might be made +more certain and immediate. + +Elizabeth found the prisoner sitting before his untasted supper. She +went up the room at a rapid pace. + +"Strength does not come of fasting," said she, as she glanced at the +table. + +"Appetite does not come of torpor," was the reply, spoken almost as +quickly; he seemed to be echoing her tone. She looked at him +surprised; so much energy of speech she had not expected of him, and +never before had heard. + +"I must wait for the tray," said she; and she took her usual stand +by the window. "Eat something to please my mother,--she will be so +troubled." + +At this he took his spoon and tasted the porridge, which had grown +cold in the dish before him. + +Now, as she stood there waiting, a curious state of mind was that +through which Elizabeth passed. When he answered her greeting, it +was with less apparent weariness, less exhibition of sad +indifference to all things, than usual,--with some animation, indeed; +not at all as one speaks who is dead to every hope. And with this +utterance, which on any other day would have lightened the burden +Elizabeth bore, a new darkening of the spirit of heaviness seemed to +fall upon her. She knew that by her he must have come to--whatever +hopefulness he had; and she would give him freedom that she might +see his face no more! + +"There is no crucifixion without pain." It is never with a light +heart that man or woman attends his or her own immolation. There is +awful terror in the triumphs of the divine human nature. If, indeed, +_Suttee_ is noiseless, superstition and force have stifled the +voice of the widow. + +And therefore the words which Elizabeth only by an effort restrained, +as she crossed the prison-threshold, could come from her now by +effort only. If she had found him drooping, despairing, utterly cast +down,--no hinderance then to a full utterance of the heroic purpose +which death alone could dampen or defeat! But now some strength +seemed in himself--and liberty would give him to others, of whom he +could not think as quietly as he could think of her. Could she, then, +better afford to weep than to rejoice with him? + +Before he had pushed away the table and its contents, before time +constrained her to speak, she said,-- + +"I promised you something, Mr. Manuel. You remember what. I may go +tomorrow. So tell me,--how shall I serve you best? Tell me now; +something may happen; and I wish my work to be clear." + +The prisoner started from the table at these words. He hastily +approached the quiet speaker, his face brightened not more by hope +than by wondering admiration. + +"What do you mean?--tomorrow? I am waiting, Elizabeth." + +"Colonel Farel and his lady are going home. He has leave of absence. +I have spoken to my father and mother. I have told my mother +everything. She knows that I am going to visit your relations as +well as hers. Tell me how I shall find them. Tell me what I must do. +You shall have freedom, if woman can ask or man can give it." + +She had advanced a single step towards him, in thus speaking. She +stood now with hands folded, quiet, waiting his answer. + +"Noble girl!" he began; then he paused. Full of reverence was his +gaze. + +"Do not praise,--direct me," she said, hurriedly. "I know what I +shall say. But to whom shall I say it?--Yes, I will find her whom +you love. I will carry balm across the sea to heal her breaking heart. +_I_ will join together whom,"--here for an instant she hesitated, +then began again,--"whom God has joined, whom man dared separate. +Direct me, Sir." + +And there she stood, waiting. Who sighing beholds her? No +pusillanimity there; but on the very heights of danger, which none +other than the bravest could have gained, dauntless and safe, let her +stand and fight her battle. So strong, yet so defenceless, so +conspicuous for purpose and position there, the arrows rain upon her, +--yet not one is poisoned to the power of hurting her sacred life. +Listen, Elizabeth, while he speaks of _her_! Deeply can his voice +grave every word of direction; not one wilt thou lose! Chosen of the +few from among the many called, go, woman to love, and hero to endure, +--yea, if thou must, as gentle and dauntless martyr, to die before +the stronghold thou wouldst summon to surrender! + +Later in the day the prisoner heard Elizabeth singing, as not rarely +he heard her,--for, knowing that the sound of her voice was pleasant +to him, and that its cheerfulness cheered him, she had the habit of +frequenting with her songs that part of the house in which his room +was. The prisoner heard her singing later in the day, and thanked +her for the grace, but did not catch the words whose sound swept +past him. It was an ancient hymn she sang,--one that she often sang; +and that she sang it this day of all days, I copy here the first +verse:-- + + "Sing, my tongue, the glorious battle, + With completed victory rife, + And above the Cross's trophy + Tell the triumph of the strife, + How the world's Redeemer conquered + _By surrendering of his life_." + + * * * * * + +The Drummer's Daughter has crossed the sea,--has landed on the +shores of Fatherland. She has even parted from her fellow-voyagers +at the station whence the coach shall take her on to Chalons, that +venerable town and well-beloved, where the lives whence her own +sprung were born and blended. She is in the land of wonders, of +meadows, vineyards, gardens, lakes, and rivers, and of cattle +feeding on a thousand hills,--among the graves of millions of men, +among the works of heroes and of martyrs, in the land of mighty towns, +of palaces, of masters, and of slaves, where a great king is +building the great palace which shall witness, centuries hence, the +dire humiliation of his race. + +Of all the crowds and companies that hurry to and fro from one end +of the land to the other, Elizabeth seeks only two persons. It is +not to her father's native town that she is drawn by the superior +attraction. She passes Chalons in the moonlight. When the coach +stops at the inn-door for a change of horses, she keeps her place, +--she acts not with the quicker beating of her heart. She looks about +her as they drive through the silent streets,--out on the moonlit +landscape when they have passed the borders of the town; she sees +the church-towers, and the old buildings, and the river whose +windings she has heard described so often by the voices that once +talked of love all along its borders. Chalons is dear to her; she +looks back with tearful longing when the driver hurries on his +horses as they pass into the open country. But she has no right to +wait on her own pleasure,--to verify her parents' calculations when +they talk together, by the fireside in Foray, of her journeying +through Fatherland. + +No,--each sunrise appoints him one more day of imprisonment and exile! +Every sunset leaves him to one more night of cruel dreams which +morning shall deride! And while this can be said, what has Chalons, +or any other spot on earth, that it should lure her into rest? + +The higher powers sometimes convey their messages and do their work +after a prosaic fashion. It was no uncommon thing for a young girl +in neat raiment to stand waiting admittance before the door of the +Chateau Desperiers. Hospitality was called upon in those days not so +often, perhaps, as benevolence; and for its charity the chateau had +a reputation far and wide; the expectation of the poor perished only +in fruition there. + +Into the library of this ancient mansion Elizabeth Montier was +ushered by the old gray servant. There she might wait the return of +his mistress; at what hour the return should be anticipated he could +not undertake to say. His counsel to the stranger was, that she had +better return at a later hour; but when Elizabeth said it was +impossible, that she had come from a great distance to see the lady +of the place, and must await her return _there_, he led her without +further parley to the library, and left her. + +And from its lofty windows, at her leisure, she might now look down +upon the prospect Prisoner Manuel had described. When she crossed +the threshold of that room, she knew where she was; left alone, she +looked around her. There he once had stood; there he had parted from +Madeline Desperiers; from that last interview he had gone forth to +long captivity! She stood by the lofty, narrow windows, to see what +he had seen when standing before them,--that town the ancient +Desperiers laid out for his tenants in the ancient days,--the church, +the pond, the park,--the garden, so vast, and so astonishing for +beauty, the gazer scarce believed her eyes. And she remembered beds +of flowers under a prison-wall, and who that day looked on them. + +He had said that the mistress of this grand domain was a soldier's +daughter. He had said that she was a grand lady. A soldier's +daughter had come here to hold an interview with her! A drummer's +daughter, a girl from out the barracks and the prison of Foray, was +here!--A strange light, so strange that it seemed not natural, broke +from these reflections of Elizabeth, and illuminated the library. It +fell on the great bookcases that were filled from floor to ceiling +with books which cost a fortune, on the great easy-chairs black with +age, on picture and on bust, on the old writing-stand, the more +modern centre-table piled with newspapers and pamphlets, on the +curious clock that told the hours with a "silverey voice." It fell, +too, on a portrait that did not often greet the gaze even of such as +found access into that room,--a portrait of him for whose sake she +was here, having compassed land and sea. + +When she first saw the picture, she was sitting in one of the chairs +beside the table,--her eyes had taken cognizance of everything but +that,--and of that became aware so strangely that she could not at +first persuade herself of the nature of the mystery that took such +hold of her and possessed her so wholly. A proud and glorious vision, +it rose up before her, emerging from the shadows of the alcove where +it stood. This was not Manuel, not the wan prisoner of Foray,--but +her heart needed none to tell her it was the hero who had loved the +lady of this chateau in the splendor of his manhood. She saw it, and +saw nothing more,--the prescience of her soul was satisfied. As he +was, she beheld him now;--was it safe for her to sit there gazing at +that likeness? + +The old servant, who now and then walked up and down the hall, +perceiving that the stranger was sitting quiet, with her eyes +generally in one direction, was satisfied that she should prove so +patient with this long delay in his mistress's return. He knew not +what occupied her eyes or thoughts,--fancied, may-be, that she was +numbering the books of the library, or engaged in some equally +diverting occupation. + +At last came Madeline. + +Learning from the servant in the hall that a young person waited her +return, and had waited half the day, with a patience that was +evidently proof against time, the lady proceeded at once to the +library. + +Elizabeth, who heard the arrival, and the approach, arose and stood, +waiting the meeting. In her hand she held a paper scroll, the +drawing of Foray, which she had brought to aid her in this interview. + +It was, indeed, a royal person upon whom the eyes of the Drummer's +Daughter fell,--a person whose dignity and grace held at a distance +even those whom they attracted. Nothing short of reverence could +have dictated the movement of any noble mind that had to do with her. +She was the Sister of Mercy, whom the whole country round about knew +for the most righteous Desperiers of them all. The noble line was +ending nobly in her pure and lofty and most gracious womanhood. She +was the star of society, if the "sweet influences" might only be +bound,--no comet, no fiery splendor of intellect or passion, but a +pure light that would still shine through all paling, and enter with +its own distinct ray into the last absorption. + +She approached to meet her guest with a kind and frank expression of +regret that she should have been kept waiting so long. + +Beholding her, remembering him, strong even through her sense of +impotence, Elizabeth unrolled the pencilling of Foray. The moment +during which she was thus occupied passed in silence; then she +looked up and spoke, with the coldness in which her embarrassment and +emotion sought disguise. + +"I came here with a message,--on an errand," said she; "and I have +come so far, that, finding myself really in this house, I did not +like to leave it again till I had seen the lady I sought. I knew +that it would give you pain, if you could know the whole." + +"Tell me the whole," was the reply, spoken with evident and +encouraging approval of the stranger's mode of address; and the lady +sat down in the great chair on one side of the table. "Be seated; +tell me your wish." + +"It is to serve you," said Elizabeth, a little proudly. "I have not +come to ask favor for myself or mine. I came across the sea for you +and him." + +She spoke now with vehemence, and as she spoke glanced at the +portrait in the alcove. Quickly the eyes of Madeline Desperiers +followed hers. How had this stranger managed to discover what was so +securely hidden from the observation of ordinary eyes? She did not +even suspect the light which had illumined that dim recess, and made +it brighter to the gazer than the bright garden even. + +"This is Foray," said Elizabeth, exposing now the token that would +instantly make all plain and equal between them. "I should have sent +it to you, Madam, when I wrote; but there was more to be done,--and +so I came. I am Elizabeth Montier. I am a soldier's daughter; so, he +said, are you." + +The lady's answer was not at first by speech. She arose, swiftly as +light moves she moved, and brought her guest up to the window of the +shadowy room. Well she scanned the face of Elizabeth. + +"Truth," she murmured. "It was you that wrote. You are Truth. You +speak it. Blessings on you! Blessings descend upon you from all the +saints and heroes who have moved and suffered here! Do you come from +him,--Stephen Cordier?" + +How proudly and how tenderly she spoke that name! To hear her soothed +the heart of Elizabeth Montier,--soothed her, and made her strong. + +"Is that his name?" she asked, pointing to the portrait. "We call +him Manuel." She paused a moment, but not for an answer. Before +Madeline could speak, she went on,-- + +"If you can hear me, I will tell you of him, and why I am here." + +"Tell me all. I can bear to hear anything that you can endure to tell. +You are his friend. I claim you for mine, too. You came to find me. +Speak." + +This was the utterance of a calm self-knowledge. By what she had +endured, the woman knew what she could yet endure. + +Without pause Elizabeth now spoke. Without interruption the lady +listened,--listened while this young stranger told the life of the +past months, in which he was concerned,--of the garden where she +worked and he walked,--of her father, the musician,--of their old +home near the barracks, and the new home in the prison,--of the day +when he first told her of his country and his love,--how for him she +had written the letter, repeating oftentimes in the narration the +very words he had used,--of his gestures, his looks;--she was +thoughtful of all. + +How strangely intelligent in all her communication! Ah, if it was +eager love that hearkened, it was thoughtful love that spoke! + +The story, as she told it, was brief; but the voice never faltered +in telling the tale, and the eyes of Elizabeth, with constant +scrutiny, were upon her listener. She was satisfied, when, having +said all, she paused, and had now no further fear for her own +heart's integrity or of the listener's constancy. + +A long silence followed her speech. At length said Mlle. Desperiers,-- + +"I see it all. You are God's messenger from that other world. I have +believed too little. You are truer and wiser than I. Lead me, dear +child! Shall we go to Foray? I will sail with you tomorrow, if you +say so. Better a prison, with him, than all this freedom, so alone." + +"He must be set free, first," said Elizabeth. The manner of her +speaking, her look as well as her tone, might almost have been taken +for a rebuke. Madeline might pardon that. + +"I have said so," she answered, mildly. "I have tried to move heaven +and earth. I was but a feeble woman. Still it is a consolation to +know that I have done everything my wit or my love could devise, and +not stopped at what looked like extravagance or indelicacy. What +further, Elizabeth? The man who is now in power, and through whom +alone the king can be reached, will grant him liberty"-- + +"_He will_?" + +"At a price that would take away its value from him." + +"What is that price?" + +"My life. He wants me for his wife,--a purchase, you perceive." + +Elizabeth Montier did not heed the scorn and bitterness of these +words, as Mlle. Desperiers spoke them. The blood in her veins seemed +turning to fire,--it swept through her body and brain like the flood +of a volcano,--and she thought, she who knew the prisoner's life, +and all that captivity was to him,-- + +"Coward and selfish, that will not instantly give up her life for his!" + +A very dismal satisfaction, that the woman he loved best should so +prove unworthy of him! The horror of that satisfaction, its +humiliation and its pain, sufficiently attested to the poor girl who +endured it that her soul's integrity remained secure. As if for a +personal conflict with an enemy, she started to her feet. + +"It must not be!" she exclaimed. + +And, far from suspecting to whom the words were addressed, to what +the speaker closed her eyes, rebuking her pure heart, the lady +answered,-- + +"Then, unless he outlives this tyranny of power, he will die a +prisoner, Elizabeth. I will go with you to him. I can die with him. +God, certainly, does not require me to stay here longer, for He has +sent you to me." + +"He has sent me for _him!_" exclaimed Elizabeth. "I am here to make +him free." She did not add, "If I were you, my life for his!" but +again, in spite of her, she thought it, and a terrible strength of +pride possessed her at that moment. + +"Speak on," was the eager, tremulous response. "You are here to set +him free, God knows; but at least I believe wholly in you. What will +you do, Elizabeth?" + +"Go to the officer tomorrow. Tell him everything that is to be told. +If he is human"-- + +"That is what I doubt. He knows what petitions I presented and caused +to be presented to his predecessor." + +"You?" + +"I?--who but I? Do you think I have been idle, or that I have left +anything undone that I could think to do? Child, the sun has never +risen on me since I saw him last! They say I am dead to the world. +But they who say it know not how terribly true their words are. +Shall I tell _you_ how many times, when the weary days have come to +an end, I have said, in the morning I would make that loathsome +bargain with General Saterges, and in the morning God's grace, as I +believe, has alone prevented me? Do you think that it is because I +love myself better than him, that I have not bought his freedom at +this price? It is because I know him,--because I am sure that +liberty at such price would be worthless to him. I cannot torture +him with the belief that I am unfaithful, nor suffer him to look on +me as a sacrifice. We can endure what God allows. Trust me. You have +done so bravely, you are yourself so true, believe in me. I am +really no coward. I am not a selfish woman." + +"Forgive me," said Elizabeth, most humbly. Her pride had left her +defenceless in its flight. If there was not now the true, brave, +generous woman to lift and proclaim herself from the humiliation of +her mistake, alas for her! + +The woman was there,--ready and true,--was there. Humbled, yet +resolute, she spoke,--and in her speaking was the triumph of a +spirit that should never again surrender its stronghold of peace. + +"You must direct me, Madam. Show me how I shall find this minister. +I will speak then as God's servants spoke of old,--trusting in Him. +If the man will not hear me, then I will conduct you to Foray. You +shall see Mr. Manuel. You can live--with us. My mother's heart is +kind, and my father is a soldier; we shall all love to serve you. +Let us take courage! They cannot prevent us here. You could endure +exile for him?" + +"Exile? Ah, how do you shame me! All these years I might have"-- + +"No," said Elizabeth, hurriedly. "Never till now. You could not. The +way was not open till this day. Love, too must have its servants. I +am yours and his. I trust in God. In His time he has opened His own +way." + +By Mlle. Desperiers's management, Elizabeth without difficulty +obtained audience, the next day, of the chief ministerial power of +the realm. + +I shall attempt no pictorial description of that interview. The men +of authority know best how often women come into their presence, +burdened with prayers for the pardon of those who have justly, or +unjustly, fallen under the displeasure of the powers that be. From +high station and low Love draws its noblest and most courageous +witnesses, and the ears of the officials are not always deaf. + +The case of Stephen Cordier was of sufficient importance to come +under discussion before the governing power as often as that power +underwent a change in person or policy. Twice petitions in his +behalf had been presented,--once by the lady of Chateau Desperiers +in person,--petitions that were in themselves the proudest praise +of him, the greatest honor that could be conferred upon him. They +had fallen powerless to the ground. + +The old man, statesman and soldier, now holding office, had, before +he came to this position, knowing the interest and the kind of +interest taken by Madeline Desperiers in the petitions presented, +volunteered his name to the last document, mentioning, though with +due deference to the fashion of the world, the price at which it was +to be procured,--her hand. His name had just the weight that would +have made the other more honorable names successful in their pleading. +What sort of success was to be expected, now that he occupied the +passage to royalty? Elizabeth Montier crossed the threshold of the +apartment where the old warrior and statesman sat amongst books and +papers, without dismay ruling by pen and voice, as confident in +himself, when he took up these weapons, as in the former time of +sword and powder. + +His practice was to receive all petitioners,--all should have +audience. But he made short work of business. Never were affairs +dispatched with more celerity, seldom with less conscience. At a +glance his keen eye read, to his own satisfaction, the state of +every case,--and he came to his own conclusions. His requirement was, +that the petitioner should be self-possessed and brief,--which +requisition, hinted by the doorkeeper, and reiterated by the General +himself, had not always precisely the effect intended. + +The fault was not in Mlle. Desperiers that she had proved so +unsuccessful in her petitions, as has been made sufficiently clear. +General Saterges had found in Stephen Cordier a powerful antagonist +in action. He had moved to power through the very paths which Stephen +Cordier had attempted to lay waste. He upheld the faith against +which Cordier had preached a crusade. The old warrior regarded the +young thinker as a personal enemy. It was hardly probable that he +would very energetically strive to procure the reversal of a hard +sentence in behalf of such a man. + +As Adolphus Montier's daughter came into his presence, she had not +the bearing common to such as appeared there with intent to plead +for the life or liberty of those they loved. A sense of the +sacredness of her mission was upon her. She had cried to God, and +she believed that He had heard her. Where do the possibilities of +such faith end? "Time would fail me to tell of Gideon, and of Barak, +and of Samson, and of Jephthah, of David also, and of Samuel, and of +the prophets; who through faith subdued kingdoms, wrought +righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, +quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of +weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, turned to flight +the armies of the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life +again; and others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that +they might obtain a better resurrection; and others had trial of +cruel mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover, of bonds and +imprisonment; they were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, +were slain with the sword; they wandered about in sheep-skins and +goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented. _And these all, +having obtained a good report through faith, received not the promise_." + +She had considered well what she would do and say, and did not forget +and was not confounded when she stood before the old man, knowing +her time had come. Calm and strong, because so bent on accomplishing +her purpose, and so conscious of her past secret weakness, of her +suspicion and cruel judgment, as if she would here atone for it, she +took stern vengeance of herself. + +General Saterges recognized at one glance the evidences of a strong +and determined spirit. When she had crossed the room and stood +before him, he requested her to be seated,--and it was the first +time that he had made such request of such visitor. + +Declining the civility, Elizabeth stood, and told her errand. She +had come across the ocean, she said, to plead the cause of a poor +prisoner who was dying under sentence of the law. She paused a moment, +having made this statement, and was answered by a nod. Prisoners +often died without reprieve, he seemed to be aware. This cold +civility warmed the petitioner's speech. Her mother would have been +satisfied, Madeline Desperiers would have been overwhelmed with grief +and horror, to have heard this young girl's testimony in regard to +prison-life. The old man, as he listened, sighed unconsciously, +--for not every nerve in him was strung to cruelty. To one of his +restless career what image of life more dreadful could have been +presented than was in this testimony? To be shut away from human +society so many years, patient, resigned, receiving the few comforts +yet allowed him!--to live on, pure in spirit, lofty in thought, +hoping still in God and man! The old warrior in self-defence, +because she brought the case too vividly, the life too forcibly +before him, broke through the words she was speaking, interrupting +her. + +"Who is this person?" he asked. + +"Stephen Cordier," was the answer. Without hesitation, even proudly, +she spoke it. She had compelled him to ask the name! + +"And who are you?" he asked; and if he felt displeasure, as if his +sympathy, of which he was so chary, had been stolen from him, he did +not allow it to appear. + +"Elizabeth Montier," she replied. + +"That is no answer. What is a name, if it conveys no meaning to my +mind?" + +"I am the daughter of Adolphus and Pauline Montier. My father is a +drummer in the military band of Foray. He is also present keeper of +the prison where Stephen Cordier is confined." + +"Very well. Does he know your errand here?" + +"He does not. He let me come to this country,--it is his native land, +and my mother's,--he let me come because in his heart he has always +loved his country, and he has never been able to return. We were to +have come back together. But there was an opportunity for me. I +dared not wait. So I am here,--and for nothing, Sir, but this man's +liberty." + +Those last words she spoke seemed to quicken the thought of General +Saterges. He drew himself up still more erect in his chair. His eyes +were on Elizabeth with the will to scan her heart of hearts. He spoke, +-- + +"What is this man to you?" + +She paused a moment. And she, too, had a thought. She could play a +game for life. She looked at the old man, hesitated, answered,-- + +"He is everything." + +"Just let me understand you," and he looked upon her as if _he_ +might touch her secret. "Do you love Cordier?" + +"I love him," she answered, with exceeding dignity, evident +truthfulness. + +"Do I understand you?" he said again,--"what are you to him?" + +"Everything," she again replied, with perfect confidence and faith. +Was she not liberty and the joy of life to him? If liberty and joy +were ever to be his portion, they must come through her. So she +believed, and thus answered. + +"Does he love you?" + +"Yes." + +"You speak with great assurance. I know the man better, I'm afraid." +Then his voice and manner changed. "He is sentenced. Justice passed +that sentence;--to reverse it were the work of imbecility. Speak no +more. It is not in man to grant what you ask." + +He was trying her in her last stronghold,--proving her in her last +depth. + +"Is this your answer?" she asked. And indeed, after what had just +passed between them, it did seem incredible. + +The old man bowed. He seemed now impassible. He was stern, and hard +as rock. He believed that he had wellnigh been deceived,--and +deception practised successfully on him would have disgraced him in +his own eyes forever. He believed, what he would not trust his lips +to utter, that this applicant was Madeline Desperiers's agent. When +he bowed and did not answer, a fear came down upon Elizabeth that +almost took away her power of speech; that it did not quite deprive +her of that power rendered it so much the more terrible for the +anguish of its emphasis. + +"Do women kneel to you when they ask the pardon of those they love?" +said she, with a paling face. "What shall I do to move you? What +have I not done? I trusted, that, having come so far, on such an +errand, it must be that God was my leader. Am I mistaken? Or dare +you withstand God? Tell me,--you are an old man,--have you no pity? +Have you never had a sorrow? Can you not see that I never could have +come here to plead for a bad man's life? Must I go back to see him +die?" + +"Madam, you are standing where I cannot come to argue with you. Pity +and justice have their respective duties to perform. Oftentimes pity +may be exercised, and the claims of justice waived; in the case of +the man you plead for, it is simply impossible." + +He had risen in displeasure to pronounce these final words. When that +word "impossible" smote her as a sword, he touched a spring in the +table, a bell sounded, Elizabeth went forth,--the audience was over. + +She went not with tears, but self-possessed, imperious in mien, +strong in despair. Coming into the presence of Madeline Desperiers, +it was not needful that she should speak to make known the result of +her audience. + +"Have you learned when the vessel sails?" was her first question. It +was her reply to the lady's glance,--a glance for which there were +no attendant words in all the language. + +"Tomorrow, Elizabeth." + +"Are you ready?" + +"I will be." + +"Then I will give you to him. I promised that, too. I can fulfill that, +at least. You must not think the prison-walls too dreary. My mother"-- + +"I understand, Elizabeth." + +And they sailed on the morrow. No delay for wandering among the +meadows of the pleasant town, for gossip with the men and women who +were in childhood playmates of her father and her mother; no +strolling along lovely river-banks. Chalons had nothing for Elizabeth; +only one green nook of all the world had anything for her,--an +island in the sea,--a prison on that island,--and there work to do +worthy of Gabriel. + +But--wonder of wonders! + +Paul and Silas sang songs in their prison, and the jailer heard them; +then there came an earthquake. + +Who was he that found his cell-doors opened suddenly, and a +messenger from out the courts of heaven there to guide his steps? + +History is full of marvellous records; I add this to those. The +eleventh hour goes always freighted with the weightiest events. + +On board the vessel that carried Elizabeth and her charge back to +Foray went a messenger commissioned of the king. He took from court +to prison the partial pardon of Cordier. Liberty, but banishment +henceforth. Stephen Cordier should be constrained to faithfulness +towards his new love. Doomed to perpetual exile, he should be +tempted by no late loyalty to Madeline Desperiers. The new acts of +his drama should have nought to do with her. Justice forever! + +Rascal that he was, according to the word of General Saterges, it +was rascality which the General could pardon. He had gained many a +victory in desperate strife,--now one other, the last and most +complete: the kingdom's fairest star to shine among his honors! The +proclamation of Stephen Cordier's pardon would instantly make broad +the way to Chateau Desperiers. She came of a proud race, and he +reckoned on her pride. + +Let us not glory in that old man's defeat,--for he died ere his +enemy received, through Elizabeth Montier, life, and the joy of life. +Let us not call him by an evil name to whom the nation gave so fine +a funeral,--but rather pause to listen to the music that comes forth +in royal glory from the harmonious world of Adolphus,--and turn to +look with loving reverence, not with doubt or wonder, and surely not +with pity, on the serene face of Her Grace, the Drummer's Daughter. + + + WORK AND REST. + + What have I yet to do? + Day weareth on,-- + Flowers, that, opening new, + Smiled through the morning's dew, + Droop in the sun. + + 'Neath the noon's scorching glare + Fainting I stand; + Still is the sultry air, + Silentness everywhere + Through the hot land. + + Yet must I labor still, + All the day through,-- + Striving with earnest will + Patient my place to fill, + My work to do. + + Long though my task may be, + Cometh the end. + God 'tis that helpeth me, + His is the work, and He + New strength will lend. + + He will direct my feet, + Strengthen my hand, + Give me my portion meet;-- + Firm in his promise sweet + Trusting I'll stand. + + Up, then, to work again! + God's word is given + That none shall sow in vain, + But find his ripened grain + Garnered in heaven. + + Longer the shadows fall,-- + Night cometh on; + Low voices softly call, + "Come, here is rest for all! + Labor is done!" + + + + +COLIN CLOUT AND THE FAERY QUEEN. + + EDMUND SPENSER IN A DOMESTIC POINT OF VIEW. + HIS MISTRESS AND HIS WIFE. + +PART I.--HIS MISTRESS. + +The "Faery Queen" of Edmund Spenser is before us,--a vast and +glittering mausoleum, in which the purpose of the constructor has +long been entombed, we fear without hope of a happy resurrection. +Nevertheless, into this splendid ruin, hieroglyphed with the most +brilliant images the modern mind has yet conceived, we are about to +dig,--not with the impious desire of dragging forth the intellectual +tenant, now in the fourth century of its everlasting repose, but, +haply, to discover in the outer chambers and passages of the pyramid +some relics of the individual architect, his family and mode of life. +In fact, we are anxious to make the acquaintance of Mistress Spenser +and introduce her to the American public. A slight sketch of the +poet's life, up to the period of his marriage, may afford us some +clue to the quarter from which he selected his bride; we shall +therefore give what is known of him in the fewest possible words. + +Edmund Spenser, by family, was English, and by birth a cockney. In +his "Prothalamion" he thus pleads guilty to the chime of Bow-bells +in his infant ear:-- + + "At length they all to merrie London came, + To merrie London, my most kindly nurse, + That to me gave this life's first native source; + Though from another place I take my name + And house of ancient fame." + +At what time of his life he became connected with Ireland is very +uncertain; it was probably early. At or about the time of Sir Henry +Sidney's vice-royalty, or in the interval between that and the +lieutenancy of Lord Grey De Wilton, there was a "Mr. Spenser" +actively and confidentially employed by the Irish government; and +that this may have been the poet is, from collateral circumstances, +far from improbable. Spenser was the friend and _protege_ of Sir +Philip Sidney, (son of the before-named Sir Henry,) and of his uncle, +the Earl of Leicester. Lord Grey De Wilton was by marriage connected +with both, and lived with them on terms of the closest intimacy, +social, literary, and political. In choosing an officer, then, for +so important a post as that of secretary, whom would the one select +or the others more confidently recommend than a young man of genius, +known to all the parties, and who already had some knowledge and +experience of Irish affairs? Be this as it may, we know that in 1580, +Spenser, then in his twenty-seventh year, accompanied Lord Grey De +Wilton into Ireland as secretary; and that he had been there before, +in some official capacity not undistinguished, is evidenced by the +fact, that the Lord Justice, previously to his arrival, speaks of +him as "having many ways deserved some consideration from her Majesty." + +We do not care to inquire into the peculiar services for which he +was so speedily favored with a large grant of lands forfeited by the +Desmonds. Such official transactions, we fear, would reflect little +credit on the poet; no doubt he was a good man--according to the +morality of his age; and if he did suggest the poisoning of a few +thousand human beings of all ages and both sexes, (some go so far as +to allege that his fervid imagination contemplated the utter +extermination of the race,) he merely acted up to the opinions +prevalent in the time and polished court of "Good Queen Bess." The +beings were "mere Irishry,"--a stumbling-block in the path of British +civilization, and therefore to be removed, _per fas et nefas_. + +Spenser took up his residence on the forfeit lands in Cork; there +married, and reared a family which inherited his estate; that he +subsequently died in England was as mere a casualty as that by which +Swift was born in Ireland. Certain it is that the greater and the +better portion of his works in prose and verse was composed during +his residence in the land of his adoption. Thus, in the sonnets +appended to the "Faery Queen," the poem on which his celebrity rests, +he addresses this Earl of Ormond:-- + + "Receive, most noble lord, a single taste + Of the wilde fruit which savage soyle hath bred; + Which, beeing through long wars left almost waste, + With brutish barbarisme is overspred." + +Again, addressing himself to his patron, Lord Grey, he says,-- + + "Rude rimes, the which a rustick nurse did weave + In savage soyle, far from Parnasso Mount." + +Several other of the finest productions of his brain owe their birth +to the "savage soyle" of Ireland; his descriptions of the country, +his dialogue on Irish affairs, his "Amoretti" and "Colin Clout's come +home again," belong confessedly to this category. + +Having discovered thus much about the poet, we now strike out in a +new direction in search of his better half. Upon this point, +unfortunately, there hangs a mist,--not impenetrable, as we conceive, +but yet impenetrated,--a secret to which the given clue has been +neglected, and which remains to the present day the opprobrium of a +careless biography. The fact and the date of his marriage in Ireland +are obtained from his own writings; but, further than that her name +was Elizabeth,--a fact recorded by himself,--the lady of his choice +remains unknown, her maiden name and family. Mere trifles these, to +be sure,--but interesting in an antiquarian point of view,--and +valuable, perhaps, should the inquiry hereafter lead some more than +usually acute bookworm into the real mystery and meaning, the main +drift of that inexplicable "Faery Queen." + +One difficulty in the matter is, that Edmund appears to have been a +"susceptible subject." He was twice attacked with the tender malady, +and records, in glowing numbers, his passion for two mistresses. One +he calls _Rosalinde_, and celebrates in the "Shepherd's Calendar"; +the other, _Elizabeth_, to whom he was undoubtedly married, is the +theme of admiration in his "Amoretti." Rosalinde was his early love; +Elizabeth, the passion of his maturer years. When six-and-twenty, +hopeless of Rosalinde, he wound up his philomel complainings of +her cruelty by a formal commission to his friend Gabriel Harvey +(_Hobbinoll_) to declare his suit at an end:-- + + "Adieu, good Hobbinoll, that was so true; + Tell Rosalinde her Colin bids adieu." + +It took him fourteen years--surely a sufficient time!--to recover +from this disappointment; for he is in his forty-first year, when, +in his Sixtieth Sonnet, he represents himself as having been then +one year enamored of Elizabeth:-- + + "So since the winged god his planet cleare + Began in me to move, one yeare is spent; + The which doth longer unto me appears + Than all those fourty which my life outwent." + +That Rosalinde was not, as has been somewhat rashly conjectured, the +poetic name of Elizabeth, is conclusively established by a poem +written between 1591 and 1595, in which he speaks of some +insurmountable barrier between them, why "her he might not love." +[1] The wife he loved, and the mistress between whose love and him +there existed such a barrier, could not have been the same person, +it is evident. But who this fair and false Rosalinde was, though +known to many of his contemporaries, has become a mystery. That she +was a real personage is placed beyond cavil by "E.K.," the +ostensible editor of the "Shepherd's Calendar"; and he has given us +a clue to her name, if we have but the wit to follow it. Now +"E.K." we more than shrewdly suspect to have been either Spenser +himself, or his friend Gabriel Harvey, or both together. Two more +egregious self-laudators are not to be found in the range of English +literature: Spenser loses no opportunity of puffing "Colin Clout"; +and Harvey was openly charged by Thomas Nash with having forged +commendatory epistles and sonnets in his own praise, under the name +of _Thorius_ etc. "E.K.," therefore, must be considered as pretty +high authority; and what says "E.K."? Why, this: "Rosalinde is also +a feigned name, which, being well ordered, will bewray the verie +name of his love and mistresse." By "well ordering" the "feigned name" +E.K. undoubtedly means disposing or arranging the letters of which +it is composed in some form of anagram or metagram,--a species of +wit much cultivated by the most celebrated poets of the time, Spenser +included, and not deemed beneath the dignity of the learned Camden to +expound. + +A few examples of this "alchemy of wit," as Camden calls it, will +reconcile our modern notions of the [Greek: to trepon] with the +puerile ingenuity thought graceful, at that unripe period of our +literature, by some of the most accomplished writers and readers of +the day. Let us take an extravagant instance. Sir Philip Sidney, +having abridged his own name into _Phil. Sid._, anagrammatized it +into _Philisides_. Refining still further, he translated _Sid_., +the abridgment of _sidus_, into [Greek: astron], and, retaining +the _Phil_., as derived from [Greek: philos], he constructed +for himself another pseudonym and adopted the poetical name of +_Astrophil_. Feeling, moreover, that the Lady Rich, celebrated +in his sonnets, was the loadstar of his affections, he designates her, +in conformity with his own assumed name, _Stella_. Christopher Marlow's +name is transmuted into _Wormal_, and the royal Elizabetha is +frequently addressed as _Ah-te-basile!_ Doctor Thomas Lodge, +author of "Rosalinde; or Euphues, his Golden Legacy," (which +Shakspeare dramatized into "As you like it,") has anagrammatized his +own name into _Golde_,--and that of Dering into _Ringde_. The author +of "Dolarney's Primrose" was a Doctor _Raynolde_. John Hind, in his +"Eliosto Libidinoso," transmutes his own name into _Dinchin_ Matthew +Roydon becomes _Donroy_. And Shakspeare, even, does not scruple to +alchemize the Resolute John, or John Florio, into the pedantic +_Holofernes_ of "Love's Labor's Lost." A thousand such fantastic +instances of "trifling with the letter" might be quoted; and even so +late as the reign of Queen Anne we find this foolish wit indulged. +The cynical Swift[2] stoops to change Miss Waring into _Varina_; +Esther (_quasi_ Aster, a star) Johnson is known as _Stella_; Essy +Van-homrigh figures as _Vanessa_; while Cadenus, by an easy change +of syllables, is resolved into _Decanus_, or the Dean himself +_in propria persona_ and canonicals. + +In the "Shepherd's Calendar," the very poem in which Spenser's +unknown mistress figures as Rosalinde, the poet has alchemized +Grindal, Archbishop of Canterbury, into _Algrind_, and made Ellmor, +Bishop of London, _Morell_, (it is to be hoped he was so before,) by +merely transposing the letters. What wonder, then, if, complying +with an art so general and convenient, he should be found contriving, +in the case of both his mistresses at once, to reveal his passion +and conceal the name of his enslaver from the public gaze? + +The prolific hint of "E.K." set the commentators at work,--but +hitherto without success. The author of the life prefixed to +Church's edition conjectures Rose Linde,--forsooth, because it +appears from Fuller's "Worthies," that in the reign of Henry the +Sixth--only eight reigns too early for the birth of our rural +beauty--there was one John Linde, a resident in the County of Kent! +Not satisfied with this conjecture, Malone suggests that she may +have been an Eliza Horden--the _z_ changed, according to Camden's +rules, into _s_, and the aspirate sunk. Malone's foundation for this +theory is, that one Thomas Horden was a contemporary of John Linde, +aforesaid, and resided in the same county! Both these conjectures +are absurd and unsupported by any collateral evidence. To have given +them the remotest air of probability, the critics should have proved +some acquaintance or connection between the parties respectively, +--some courtship, or contiguity of residence, which might have +brought the young people within the ordinary sphere of attraction. +Wrong as they were in their conclusions, the search of these +commentators was in the right direction. The anagram, "well-ordered," +will undoubtedly bewray the secret. Let us try if we may not follow +it with better success. + +_Rosalinde_ reads, anagrammatically, into Rose Daniel; for, +according to Camden, "a letter may be doubled, or rejected, or +contrariwise, if the sense fall aptly"; we thus get rid of the +redundant _e_, and have a perfect anagram. Now Spenser had an +intimate and beloved friend and brother-poet, named Samuel Daniel, +author of many tragedies and comedies, an eight-canto poem called +"The Civil Wars of England," "A Vision of Twelve Goddesses," a prose +history of England, and "Musa," a defence of rhyme. Spenser alludes +to his poetic genius with high praise in his "Colin Clout." This +Daniel had a sister named Rose, who was married in due time to a +friend of her brother's,--not, indeed, to Spenser, but to a scholar, +whose eccentricities have left such durable tracks behind them, that +we can trace his mark through many passages of Spenser's love +complaints, otherwise unintelligible. The supposition that Rose +Daniel was Rosalinde satisfies every requisite, and presents a +solution of the mystery; the anagram is perfect; the poet's +acquaintance with the brother naturally threw him into contact with +the sister; while the circumstance of her marriage with another +justifies the complaint of infidelity, and accounts for the +"insurmountable barrier," that is, a living husband. Daniel was the +early _protege_ of the Pembroke family, as was Spenser of the house +of Leicester. The youthful poets must often have met in the company +of their mutual friend, Sir Philip Sidney,--for the Countess of +Pembroke was the "Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother," celebrated by +Ben Jonson, and consequently niece, as Sir Philip was nephew, of +Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. Rose and Edmund were thus thrown +together under circumstances every way favorable to the development +of love in a breast so susceptible as that of the "passionate +shepherd." + +Other circumstances in the life of Rose Daniel correspond so +strikingly with those attributed to Rosalinde, as strongly to +corroborate the foregone conclusion. + +Rosalinde, after having given encouragement to her enamored shepherd, +faithlessly and finally deserted him in favor of a rival. This is +evident throughout the "Shepherd's Calendar." The First Eclogue +reveals his passion:-- + + "I love thilk lass, (alas! why do I love?) + And am forlorne, (alas! why am I lorn?) + She deigns not my good will, but doth reprove, + And of my rural music holdeth scorn." + +Her scorn, however, may have meant no more than the natural coyness +of a maiden whom the learned Upton somewhat drolly designates as +"a skittish female." [3] Indeed, Spenser must have thought so himself, +and with reason, for she continues to receive his presents, +"the kids, the cracknels, and the early fruit," sent through his +friend Hobbinoll (Gabriel Harvey). + +We hear of no alteration of his circumstances until we reach the +Sixth Eclogue, in which the progress and utter disappointment of his +suit are distinctly and bitterly complained of. "This eclogue," says +the editorial "E.K.," "is wholly vowed to the complaining of Colin's +ill-success in love. For being (as is aforesaid) enamoured of a +country lass, Rosalinde, and having (as it seemeth) found place in +her heart, he lamenteth to his dear friend Hobbinoll that he is now +forsaken unfaithfully, and in his stead _Menalcas_, another shepherd, +received disloyally: and this is the whole argument of the eclogue." +In fact, she broke her plighted vow to Colin Clout, transferred her +heart to Menalcas, and let her hand accompany it. + +Now, from this and the preceding circumstances, the inference +appears inevitable that, at or about the time of the composition of +this Sixth Eclogue, the Rosalinde therein celebrated was married, or +engaged to be married, to the person denounced as Menalcas. + +Whether the ante-nuptial course of Rose Daniel corresponded with the +faithlessness ascribed to Rosalinda we confess we have no +documentary evidence to show: but this much is certain, that Rose +was married to an intimate friend of her brother's; and, from the +characteristics recorded of him by Spenser, we shall presently prove +that that friend, the husband of Rosalinde, is no other than the +treacherous rival denounced as Menalcas in the "Shepherd's Calendar." +Who, then, is Menalcas? + +Amongst the distinguished friends of Samuel Daniel was a man of much +celebrity in his day,--the redoubted, or, as he chose to call himself, +the "Resolute" John Florio (Shakspeare's _Holofernes_). This +gentleman, an Italian by descent, was born in London in the same year +with Spenser, and was a class-fellow with Daniel at Oxford. He was +the author of many works, well received by the public,--as his +"First Fruits," "Second Fruits," "Garden of Recreation," and so forth; +also, of an excellent Italian and English dictionary, styled +"A World of Words,"--the basis of all Anglo-Italian dictionaries +since published. He was a good French scholar, as is proved by his +translation of Montaigne; and wrote some verses, highly prized by +Elizabeth and her successor, James I. Indeed, his general learning +and accomplishments recommended him to both courts; and, on the +accession of James, he was appointed classical tutor to Prince Henry, +and reader of French and Italian to the Royal Consort, Anne of +Denmark; he was also a Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, and Clerk of +the Closet to his Majesty; and, finally, it was chiefly through his +influence that Samuel Daniel was appointed Gentleman Extraordinary +and Groom of the Privy Chamber to Queen Anne. + +Long prior to this prosperous estate, however, his skill as a +linguist had recommended him to the patronage and intimacy of many +of the chief nobility of Elizabeth's court; and at an early period +of his life, we find him engaged, as was his friend Daniel, as tutor +to some of the most illustrious families,--such as Pembroke, Dudley, +Essex, Southampton, etc.; [4] all which, together with his friendship +for Daniel, must needs have brought him into the acquaintance of +Edmund Spenser, the friend of Sidney and his relatives. He was also +on the most friendly terms with Gabriel Harvey, and a warm admirer +(as his works attest) of the genius of Daniel. We have thus gathered +our _dramatis personae_, the parties most essentially interested in +Spenser's unlucky passion, into one familiar group. + +Of Rose Daniel's marriage with the "Resolute John Florio" there is +no manner of question. It is recorded by Anthony a Wood in his +"Athenae Oxonienses," acknowledged by Samuel Daniel in the +commendatory verses prefixed to Florio's "World of Words," and she is +affectionately remembered in Florio's will as his "beloved wife, Rose." +[5] Thus, if not Spenser's Rosalinde, she was undoubtedly a +Rosalinde to John Florio. + +We shall now proceed to gather some further particles of evidence, +to add their cumulative weight to the mass of slender probabilities +with which we are endeavoring to sustain our conjectures. + +Spenser's Rosalinde had at least a smattering of the Italian. Samuel +Daniel was an Italian scholar; for his whole system of versification +is founded on that model. Spenser, too, was well acquainted with +the language; for, long before any English version of Tasso's +"Gerusalemme" had appeared, he had translated many passages which +occur in the "Faery Queen" from that poem, and--without any public +acknowledgment that we can find trace of--appropriated them to +himself.[6] What more natural than that Rose should have shared her +brother's pleasant study, and, in company with him and Spenser, +accepted the tuition of John Florio? + +The identity of Florio's wife and Rosalinde may be fairly inferred +from some circumstances consequent upon the lady's marriage, and +otherwise connected with her fortunes, which appear to be shadowed +forth with great acrimony in the "Faery Queen," where the Rosalinde +of the "Shepherd's Calendar" appears before us again under the +assumed name of _Mirabella_. Lest the ascription of these +circumstances to particular parties may be imputed to prejudice or +prepossession for a favorite theory, we shall state them on the +authority of commentators and biographers who never even dreamed of +the view of the case we are now endeavoring to establish. + +The learned Upton, in his preface to the "Faery Queen," was led to +observe the striking coincidence, the absolute similarity of +character, between Spenser's Rosalinde and his Mirabella. "If the +'Faery Queen,'" quoth he, "is a moral allegory with historical +allusions to our poet's times, one might be apt to think, that, in a +poem written on so extensive a plan, the cruel Rosalinde would be in +some way or other typically introduced; and methinks I see her +plainly characterized in Mirabella. Perhaps, too, her expressions +were the same that are given to Mirabella,--'the _free lady_,' 'she +was born free,'" etc.[7] + +"We are now come," says Mr. G.L. Craik, by far the most acute and +sagacious of all the commentators on Spenser, "to a very remarkable +passage. Having thus disposed of Turpin, the poet suddenly addresses +his readers, saying,-- + + 'But turn we back now to that _lady free_ + Whom late we left riding upon an ass + Led by a _carle and fool_ which by her side did pass.' + +"This is the 'fair maiden clad in mourning weed,' who, it may be +remembered, was met, as related at the beginning of the preceding +canto, by Timias and Serena. There, however, she was represented as +attended only by a _fool_. What makes this episode especially +interesting is the conjecture that has been thrown out, and which +seems intrinsically probable, that the 'lady' is Spenser's own +Rosalinde, by whom he had been, jilted, or at least rejected, more +than a quarter of a century before. His unforgetting resentment is +supposed to have taken this revenge." + +So far with Mr. Upton and Mr. Craik we heartily concur as to the +identity of Rosalinde and Mirabella; and feel confident that a +perusal and comparison of the episode of Mirabella with the whole +story of Rosalinde will leave every candid and intelligent reader no +choice but to come to the same conclusion: We shall now collate the +attributes assigned in common to those two impersonations in their +maiden state, and note the correspondence. + +Both are of humble birth,--Rosalinde being described in the +"Shepherd's Calendar" as "the widow's daughter of the glen"; her low +origin and present exalted position are frequently alluded to,--her +beauty, her haughtiness, and love of liberty. Mirabella is thus +described in Book VI. "Faery Queen," Canto vii:-- + + "She was a lady of great dignity, + And lifted up to honorable place; + Famous through all the land of Faerie: + Though of mean parentage and kindred base, + Yet decked with wondrous gifts of Nature's grace." + + "But she thereof grew proud and insolent, + And scorned them all that lore unto her meant." + + "She was born free, not bound to any wight." + +Of Rosalinde we hear in "Colin Clout" that her ambition is + + "So high in thought as she herself in place." + +And that she + + "Loatheth each lowly thing with lofty eye." + +Her beauty, too, is dwelt upon as a "thing celestial,"--her humble +family alluded to,--the boasted freedom of her heart; and upon +Rosalinde and Mirabella an affectation of the demigoddessship, which +turned their heads, is equally charged. In all essential +characteristics they are "twin cherries growing on one stalk." + +Of Rose Daniel's life so little is known, particularly during her +unmarried years, that we are unable to fasten upon her the unamiable +qualities of the allegorical beauties we assume to be her +representatives; but if we can identify her married fortune with +theirs,--then, in addition to the congruities already mentioned, we +can have no hesitation in imputing to _her_ the disposition which +brought down upon _them_, so bitterly and relentlessly, the poetic +justice of the disappointed shepherd. We may thus dispose of them in +brief. + +Mirabella's lot was severe. She was married (if we rightly interpret +the language of the allegory) to a "_fool_,"--that is to say, to a +very absurd and ridiculous person, under whose conduct she was +exposed to the "whips and scorns," the disdain and bitter retaliation, +natural to the union of a beautiful and accomplished, though vain +and haughty woman, with a very eccentric, irritable, and bombastic +humorist. + +Rosalinde was married--with no better fate, we fear--to the vain and +treacherous Menalcas. + +And Rose Daniel became the wife of the "Resolute John Florio." + +We shall commence with the substantial characters, and see how their +histories fall in with the fortunes attributed to the allegorical. +Rose Daniel's husband, maugre his celebrity and places of dignity +and profit, was beset with tempers and oddities which exposed him, +more perhaps than any man of his time, to the ridicule of +contemporary wits and poets. He was, at least in his literary career, +jealous, envious, irritable, vain, pedantic and bombastical, +petulant and quarrelsome,--ever on the watch for an affront, and +always in the attitude of a fretful porcupine with a quill pointed in +every direction against real or supposititious enemies. In such a +state of mental alarm and physical vaporing did he live, that he +seems to have proclaimed a promiscuous war against all gainsayers,-- +that is, the literary world; and for the better assurance to them of +his indomitable valor, and to himself of indemnity from disturbance, +he adopted a formidable prefix to his name; and to "any bill, warrant, +quittance, or obligation," to every address, prelude, preface, +[8] introduction, or farewell, accompanying any of his numerous works, +he subscribed himself the Resolute,--"Resolute John Florio." + +Conduct so absurd, coupled with some personal defects, and a +character so petulantly vainglorious, exposed the "Resolute" to the +bitter sarcasm of contemporary writers. Accordingly we find him +through life encompassed by a host of tormentors, and presenting his +_chevaux-de-frise_ of quills against them at all and every point. +In the Epistle Dedicatory to the second edition of his Dictionary, +we find him engaged _morsu et unguibus_ with a swarm of literary +hornets, against whom he inveighs as "sea-dogs,--land-critics, +--monsters of men, if not beasts rather than men,--whose teeth are +cannibals',--their tongues adders' forks,--their lips asps' poison, +--their eyes basilisks',--their breath the breath of a grave,--their +words like swords of Turks, which strive which shall dive deepest +into the Christian lying before them." Of a verity we may say that +John Florio was sadly exercised when he penned this pungent paragraph. +He then falls foul of the players, who--to use the technical phrase +of the day--"staged" him with no small success. "With this common +cry of curs" in general, and with _one poet_ and _one piece_ of said +poet's handiwork in particular, he enters into mortal combat with +such vehement individuality as enables us at a glance to detect the +offence and the offender. He says, "Let Aristophanes and his +comedians make plays and scour their mouths on Socrates, these very +mouths they make to vilify shall be the means to amplify his virtues," +etc. "And here," says Doctor Warburton, "Shakspeare is so clearly +marked out as not to be mistaken." This opinion is fortified by the +concurrence of Farmer, Steevens, Reid, Malone, Knight, Collier, and +Hunter; and, from the additional lights thrown upon this subject by +their combined intelligence, no doubt seems to exist that Holofernes, +the pedantic schoolmaster in "Love's Labor's Lost," had his +prototype in John Florio, the Resolute. + +"Florio," according to Farmer, "gave the first affront by asserting +that 'the plays they play in England are neither right comedies nor +tragedies, but representations of histories without any decorum.'" +We know that Shakspeare must, of his own personal knowledge of the +man, have been qualified to paint his character; for while the great +dramatist was the early and intimate friend of the Earl of +Southampton, the petulant lexicographer boasts of having for years +been domesticated in the pay and patronage of that munificent patron +of letters. Warburton thinks "it was from the ferocity of his temper, +that Shakspeare chose for him the name which Rabelais gives to his +pedant of Thubal Holoferne." Were the matter worth arguing, we +should say, it was rather from the proclivity with which (according +to Camden's rules) the abbreviated Latin name Johnes Florio or +Floreo falls into Holofernes. Rabelais and anagrammatism may divide +the slender glory of the product between them. + +But neither Shakspeare's satire nor Florio's absurdities are +comprehended within this single character. Subsequent examination +of the text of "Love's Labor's Lost" has enabled the critics to +satisfy themselves that the part of _Don Adnano de Armado_, the +"phantastical courtier," was devised to exhibit another phase in +the character of the Resolute Italian. In Holofernes we have the +pedantic tutor; in Don Adriano a lively picture of a ridiculous +lover and pompous retainer of the court. + +By a fine dramatic touch, Shakspeare has made each describe the other, +in such a way that the portrait might stand for the speaker himself, +and thus establishes a dual-identity. Thus, Armado, describing +Holofernes, says, "That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch; +for I protest the schoolmaster is exceeding fantastical,--too, too +vain,--too, too vain; but we will put it, as they say, to _fortuna +della guerra_";--whilst Holofernes, not behind his counterpart in +self-esteem, sees in the other the defects which he cannot detect in +himself. "_Novi hominem tanquam te_" quoth he;--"his humor is lofty; +his discourse peremptory; his tongue filed; his eye ambitious; his +gait majestical; and his general behavior vain, ridiculous, and +thrasonical. He is too picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as +it were; too peregrinate, as I may call it; he draweth out the +thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his argument. I +abhor such fanatical phantasms," etc. + +Should further proof be needed that Florio, Holofernes, and Armado +form a dramatic trinity in unity, we can find it in the personal +appearance of the Italian. There was something amiss with the +_face_ of the Resolute, which could not escape the observation of +his friends, much less his enemies. A friend and former pupil of his +own,--Sir Wm. Cornwallis, speaking in high praise of Florio's +translation of Montaigne, observes,--"It is done by a fellow less +beholding to Nature for his fortune than to wit; yet lesser for his +_face_ than his fortune. The truth is, he looks more like a good +fellow than a wise man; and yet he is wise beyond either his fortune +or education." [9] It is certain, then, that, behaving like a fool in +some things, he looked very like a fool in others. + +Is it not a remarkable coincidence, that both his supposed dramatic +counterparts have the same peculiarity? When Armado tells the +'country lass' he is wooing, that he will 'tell her wonders,' she +exclaims,--'skittish female' that she is,--'What, with that _face_?' +And when Holofernes, nettled with the ridicule showered on his +abortive impersonation of Judas Maccabaeus, says, 'I will not be put +out of countenance,'--Byron replies, 'Because thou hast no face.' +The indignant pedant justifies, and, pointing to his physiognomy, +inquires, 'What is this?' Whereupon the waggish courtiers proceed to +define it: it is 'a cittern-head,' 'the head of a bodkin,' 'a +death's-face in a ring,' 'the face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen,' +and so forth. + +The satire here embodied is of a nature too personal to be +considered the mere work of a riotous fancy. It is a trait +individualizing and particularising the person at whom the more +general satire is aimed; and, coupled with the infirmities of the +victim's moral nature, it fastens upon poor Florio identity with +"the brace of coxcombs." Such satire may be censured as ungenerous; +we cannot help that,--_litera scripta manet_,--and we cannot rail +the seal from the bond. Such attacks were the general, if not +universal, practice of the age in which Shakspeare flourished; and we +have no right to blame him for not being as far in advance of his age, +morally, as he was intellectually. A notorious instance of a +personal attack under various characters in one play is to be found +in Ben Jonson's "Bartholomew Fair," wherein he boasts of having, +under the characters of Lanthorn, Leatherhead, the Puppet-showman, +and Adam Overdo, satirized the celebrated Inigo Jones,-- + + "By all his titles and whole style at once + Of tireman, montebank, and Justice Jones." + +It was probably to confront and outface "Aristophanes and his +comedians," and to "abrogate the scurrility" of the "sea-dogs" and +"land-critics," that our Resolute lexicographer prefixed to the +Enlarged Edition of his Dictionary and to his translation of +Montaigne, his portrait or effigies, engraved by Hole. This portrait +would, to a person unapprised of any peculiarity in the original, +present apparently little or nothing to justify the remark of +Cornwallis. But making due allowance for the address, if not the +flattery, of a skilful painter, it were hardly possible for the +observer, aware of the blemish, not to detect in the short and +close-curled fell of hair, the wild, staring eyes, the contour of +the visage,--which, expanding from the narrow and wrinkled forehead +into cheek-bones of more than Scottish amplitude, suddenly contracts +to a pointed chin, rendered still more acute by a short, peaked beard, +--not to detect in this lozenge-shaped visnomy and its air, at once +haggard and grotesque, traits that not only bear out the remark of +his pupil, but the raillery also of the court wits in Shakespeare's +dramatic satire. + +Whatever happiness Rose Daniel may have had in the domestic virtues +of her lord, his relations with the world, his temper, eccentricities, +and personal appearance could have given her little. That he was an +attached and affectionate husband his last will and testament gives +touching _post-mortem_ evidence. + +Let us return to the fortunes of the faithless Rosalinde. It appears +she married Menalcas,--the treacherous friend and rival of the +"passionate shepherd." Who, then, was Menalcas? or why was this name +specially selected by our poet to designate the man he disliked? + +The pastoral name Menalcas is obviously and pointedly enough adopted +from the Eclogues of Virgil; in which, by comparing the fifteenth +line of the second with the sixty-sixth of the third, we shall find +he was the rival who (to use the expression of Spenser) "by treachery +did underfong" the affections of the beautiful Alexis from his +enamored master. In this respect the name would well fit Florio, who, +from his intimacy with the Daniels and their friends, could not but +have known the passion of the poet, and the encouragement at one +time given him by his fickle mistress. + +Again, there was at this time prevalent a French conceit,--"imported," +as Camden tells us, "from Calais, and so well liked by the English, +although most ridiculous, that, learned or unlearned, he was nobody +that could not hammer out of his name an invention by this wit-craft, +and _picture_ it accordingly. Whereupon," he adds, "who did not +busy his braine to hammer his devise out of this forge?" [10] This +wit-craft was the _rebus_. + +Florio's rebus or device, then, was a Flower. We have specimens of +his fondness for this nomenclative punning subscribed to his portrait: +-- + + "Floret adhue, et adhue florebit: floreat ultra + Florius hae specie floridus,--optat amans." + +And it was with evident allusion to this conceit that he named his +several works his "First Fruits," "Second Fruits," "Garden of +Recreation," and so forth. Spenser did not miss the occasion of +reducing this figurative flower to a worthless weed:-- + + "Go tell the las her flower hath wox a weed." + +In the preceding stanza we find this weed distinctly identified as +Menalcas:-- + + "And thou, Menalcas! that by treachery + Didst underfong my lass to wax so light." + +Another reason for dubbing Florio _Menalcas_ may be found in the +character and qualities ascribed to the treacherous shepherd by +Virgil. He was not without talent, for in one of the Eclogues he +bears his part in the poetical contention with credit; but he was +unfaithful and fraudulent in his amours, envious, quarrelsome, +scurrilous, and a braggart; and his _face_ was remarkable for its +dark, Italian hue,--"_quamvis ille fuscus_," etc. Compared with the +undoubted character of John Florio, as already exhibited, that of +Menalcas so corresponds as to justify its appropriation to the rival +of Spenser. + +There is a further peculiarity in the name itself, which renders its +application to John Florio at once pointed and pregnant with the +happiest ridicule. Florio rejoiced in the absurd prefix of Resolute. +Now Menalcas is a compound of two Greek words ([Greek: menos] and +[Greek: ulkm]) fully expressive of this idea, and frequently used +together in the sense of RESOLUTION by the best classical authorities, +--thus, "[Greek: menos d'ulkmd te lathpsmat]." [11] Again, in Liddell +and Scott's Greek-English Lexicon [Greek: menos] in composition is +said to "bear always a collateral notion of _resolve_ and firmness." +And here we have the very _notion_ expressed by the very word we +want. Menalcas is the appropriate and expressive _nom de guerre_ of +the "Resolute." + +Every unprejudiced reader will admit, that in emblem, name, character; +and appearance, John Florio and Menalcas are allegorically identical; +and it follows, as a consequence, that Rosalinde, married to the +same person as Rose Daniel, is one and the same with her +anagrammatic synonyme,--and that her sorrows and joys, arising out +of the conduct of her husband, must have had the same conditions. + +Having identified Rosalinde with Rose Daniel, it may be thought that +nothing further of interest with respect to either party remains, +which could lead us into further detail;--but Spenser himself having +chosen, under another personification, to follow the married life of +this lady, and revenge himself upon the treachery of her husband, we +should lose an opportunity both of interpreting his works and of +forming a correct estimate of his character, if we neglected to +pursue with him the fortunes of Mirabella. Like her type and +prototype, we find that she has to suffer those mortifications which +a good wife cannot but experience on witnessing the scorn, disdain, +and enmity which follow the perversity of a wayward husband. Such, +at least, we understand to be the meaning of those allegorical +passages in which, as a punishment for her cruelty and pride, she is +committed by the legal decree of Cupid to the custody and conduct of +Scorn and Disdain. We meet with her for the first time as: + + "a fair maiden clad in mourning WEED, + Upon a mangy JADE unmeetly set, + And a leud fool her leading thorough dry and wet." + +Again she is: + + "riding upon an ass + Led by a carle and fool which by her side did pass." + +These companions treat her with great contempt and cruelty; the +Carle abuses her: + + "With all the evil terms and cruel mean + That he could make; and eke that angry fool, + Which followed her with cursed hands uncleane + Whipping her horse, did with his smarting-tool + Oft whip her dainty self, and much augment her dool." + +All this, of course, is to be understood allegorically. The _Carle_ +and _Fool_--the former named Disdain, the latter Scorn--are +doubtless (as in the case of Holofernes and Armado) the double +representatives of the same person. By the ass on which she rides is +signified, we suppose, the ridiculous position to which marriage has +reduced her haughty beauty; the taunts and scourges are, +metaphorically, the wounds of injured self-respect. + +The Carle himself is extravagantly and most "Resolutely" painted as +a monster in nature,--stern, terrible, fearing no living wight,--his +looks dreadful,--his eyes fiery, and rolling from left to right in +search of "foeman worthy of his steel"; he strides with the +stateliness of a crane, and, at every step, rises on tiptoe; his +dress and aspect resemble those of the Moors of Malabar, and remind +us forcibly of the swarthy Menalcas. Indeed, if we compare this +serio-comic exaggeration of the Carle with the purely comic picture +of Don Armado given by Holofernes, we shall see at a glance that +both depict the same object of ridicule. + +That Mirabella is linked in wedlock to this angry Fool is nowhere +more clearly depicted than in the passage where Prince Arthur, +having come to her rescue, is preparing to put her tormentor to death, +until his sword is arrested by the shrieks and entreaties of the +unhappy lady that his life may be spared for her sake:-- + + "Stay, stay, Sir Knight! for love of God abstain + From that unwares you weetlesse do intend! + Slay not that carle, though worthy to be slain; + For more on him doth than himself depend: + My life will by his death have lamentable end." + +This is the language of a virtuous wife, whom neither the +absurdities of a vainglorious husband, nor "the whips and scorns of +the time," to which his conduct necessarily exposes her, can detach +from her duties and affections. + +Assuming, then, that the circumstances of this allegory identify +Mirabella with Rosalinde, and Rosalinde with Rose Daniel, and, in +like manner, the Fool and Carle with Menalcas and John Florio, have +we not here a thrice-told tale, agreeing so completely in all +essential particulars as to leave no room for doubt of its original +application to the early love-adventures in which the poet was +disappointed? And these points settled, though intrinsically of +trivial value, become of the highest interest, as strong +corroboration of the personal import of all the allegorical +characters introduced into the works of Spenser. Thus, in the +"Shepherd's Calendar," the confidant of the lover is Hobbinoll, or +Gabriel Harvey; and in the "Faery Queen," the adventurers who come +to Mirabella's relief are Prince Arthur, Sir Timias, and Serena, the +well-known allegorical impersonations of Spenser's special friends, +the Earl of Leicester, Sir Walter Raleigh, and Elizabeth Throckmorton, +to whom Sir Walter was married. Are not these considerations, added +to the several circumstances and coincidences already detailed, +conclusive of the personal and domestic nature of the history +conveyed in both the poetical vehicles? And do they not amount to a +moral demonstration, that, in assigning the character and adventures +of Mirabella and Rosalinde to the sister of Samuel Daniel, the wife +of John Florio, we have given no unfaithful account of the first +fickle mistress of Edmund Spenser?--We shall next ascertain the +name and history of his wife from the internal evidence left behind +him in his works. + + + +PART II.--SPENSER'S WIFE. + +The second passion of our poet, having had birth + + "In savage soyle, far from Parnasso Mount," + +is more barren of literary gossip and adventure, and may, therefore, +we trust, be compressed into narrow limits. + +The chief evidence on which we shall have to rely in this case must +be of a similar nature with the former;--not that we shall have to +interpret allegories, but the true reading of an anagram; for we may +set out on our pursuit, assured, that, according to the poetical +alchemy of his age, Spenser did not fail to screen his second +_innamorata_ under the same "quintessential cloud of wit" as his +first; and that we shall find in his homage some _sobriquet_, +"the right ordering of which" (as in the former case) "will bewray +the verie name of his love and mistresse." + +On this point, however, his biographies and biographers have +hitherto preserved absolute silence. They tell us he was married, +and had several children by his wife; but, of the name, the rank, or +the country of the lady they confess their ignorance. Todd informs us, +that he "married a person of very inferior rank to himself,"-- +"a country lass";--and he quotes the "Faery Queen" to prove his +assertion:-- + + + "For, certes, she was but a country lass." + + +It is true, those words occur in the passage cited by the +commentator from the "Faery Queen"; most probably they refer to the +person in dispute. But she was no more "a country lass," in the +ordinary acceptation of the phrase, than was Spenser himself (Clerk +of the Council of Munster) "a shepherd's boy." Had Mr. Todd +consulted that portion of our poet's works especially devoted to +record this passion, its progress and issue, he would have found she +was a "lady," whose rank was rather "disparaged" than otherwise by +"sorting" with Edmund Spenser, albeit his blood was noble:-- + + + "To all those happy blessings which you have + With plenteous hand by Heaven upon you thrown, + This one disparagement they to you gave, + That you your love lent to so mean a one." + _Amoretti_. Sonnet lxvi. + + +Spenser devoted two entire poems expressly to this passion,--to wit, +the "Amoretti," describing its vicissitudes, and the "Epithalamion, +or Marriage Song," in which he celebrates its consummation. There +are many allusions to it also in the "Faery Queen" and "Colin +Clout's come home again"; and from these sources we propose to +supply the name, the lineage, and residence of the happy fair. + +She was, undoubtedly, a person of rank and blood, residing in the +poet's vicinage, and is so described in many of the Sonnets. She is +constantly addressed as "a lady," enjoying the respect and the +elegancies, if not the luxuries, of her condition,--well-educated, +accomplished in the arts of design and embroidery,--at whose +father's house the poet was no infrequent visitor. Her residence, or +that of her family, could not have been far from Kilcolman Castle; +and was seated, most probably, on the banks of the Mulla, (Spenser's +favorite stream,) a tributary of the Blackwater, which empties into +the sea at Youghal. For she is seen for the first time in the "Faery +Queen" as the love of Colin Clout, (Spenser,) dancing among the Nymphs +and Graces,--herself a fourth Grace,--on a mountain-top, the description +of which exactly corresponds with all his other descriptions of his +beloved Mole,--a mountain which nearly overhangs his castle; [12] and, +undoubtedly, the bridesmaids and companions who attended her at the +hymeneal altar were the "Nymphs of Mulla," and, + + "of the rivers, of the forest green, + And of the sea that neighbours to her near,"-- + +a localization which would fix her family mansion somewhere between +Kilcolman Castle and the prosperous seaport town of Youghal,--but +somewhat nearer to the former. This limits our inquiries within the +narrow range of the lands bordering the Mulla waters. + +But our poet, we believe, did not stop with these ambiguous +indications of her birthplace and family; he had promised her to +immortalize the triumph of his passion, and to leave to all +posterity a monument of the "rare wonderment" of the lady's beauty. +[13] He had gone farther; and, in three several sonnets,[14] vowed +to eternize her name--"your glorious name in golden monument"--after +his own fashion, and to the best of his abilities. We have no right, +then, to doubt that he fulfilled his promise; and if we can fix upon +any distinctive appellation or epithet addressed to her, common to +the several poems which professedly reveal his passion, and solvable +into the name of a person whose residence and circumstances +correspond with those ascribed to the lady by her worshipper, may we +not most reasonably conclude that we have at length discovered the +long-lost secret? + +To begin with the beginning,--the "Amoretti." Here she is an _Angel_, +in all moods and tenses, the "leaves," "lines," and "rhymes" are +taught, that, "when they behold that _Angel's_ blessed look," they +shall "seek her to please alone." [15] In a subsequent sonnet, she is +an: + + "_Angel_ come to lead frail minds to rest + In chaste desires, on heavenly beauty bound." [16] + +Again, the poet denies that + + "The glorious portrait of that _Angel's_ face" + +can be expressed by any art, by pen or pencil. [17] + +Again, she is + + "Of the brood of _Angels_ heavenly born." [18] + +And yet again, she is + + "Divine and born of heavenly seed." [19] + +Once more we are bid + + "Go visit her in her chaste bower of rest, + Accompanied with _Angel-like_ delights." [20] + +Turn we next to the "Epithalamion." And here the same cuckoo-note is +repeated _usque ad nauseam_. We are told, that, to look upon her, + + "we should ween + Some _Angel_ she had been." [21] + +Even her bridesmaids (her sisters, probably) are thought to be +_Angels_, and, addressing them, the bridegroom says, + + "Sing, ye sweet _Angels_, Alleluya sing!" [22] + +Finally, in "Colin Clout's come home again," the poet very +dexterously evades the royal anger of Elizabeth, sure to be aroused +by the preference of any beauty to her own. To deceive the Queen,--to +whom, in gratitude for past favors, and, mayhap, with a lively +appreciation of others yet to come, he is offering up homage,--he +describes her Majesty by the very same imagery he had elsewhere +employed to depict his lady-love; and ostensibly applies to the +royal Elizabeth the amatory terms which are covertly meant for an +Elizabeth of his own,--between whom and her royal type he either saw +or affected to see a personal resemblance. Here we find her placed +by the poet: + + "Amongst the seats of _Angels_ heavenly wrought, + Much like an _Angel_ in all form and fashion." + +The metaphoric 'Angel' of enamored swains is at once so trite and +obvious, that both the invention and vocabulary of the lover who +abides by it so perpetually must have been poor and narrow beyond +anything we can conceive of Spenser's fecundity of language and +imagery, if we sit down content to imagine that no more is meant by +its recurrence than meets the eye. We are satisfied that this title +or simile--call it what you will--is the key-word of the mystery; +and we must now look around the neighborhood of the Mulla for a +family-surname out of which this "Angel" can be extracted by the +"alchemy of wit." + +On consulting the "Great Records of Munster," Vol. VI., we find a +family residing in the neighborhood of Kilcolman Castle whose name +and circumstances correspond exactly with all the requirements of +our Angel-ic theory. The Nagles were a very ancient and respectable +family, whose principal seats were in the northern parts of the +County of Cork and the adjoining borders of the County of Waterford. +There seem to have been two races of them, distinguished by the +color of their hair into the Red Nagles and the Black Nagles; and of +the former, the lord or chieftain of the tribe resided at Moneanymmy, +an ancient preceptory of the Knights of St. John, beautifully seated +on the banks of the Mulla, where it disembogues its tribute into the +Blackwater, on its passage to Cappoquin and Youghal, and at a +convenient distance from Spenser's Kilcolman. Elizabeth Nagle +belonging to the _Red_ branch of the family, we shall find no +difficulty in accounting for her alleged resemblance to Queen +Elizabeth. + +The proprietor of Moneanymmy, strictly contemporaneous with Spenser, +was John Nagle, whose son, David, died in the city of Dublin in 1637. +It is therefore but fair to suppose that in 1593 (the year of +Spenser's marriage) this David might have had a sister of +marriageable age; for he himself, by his marriage with Ellen Roche +of Ballyhowly, had a daughter, Ellen, who in due time was married to +Sylvanus, the eldest son of Edmund Spenser. If our supposition be +correct, therefore, Ellen and Sylvanus were linked by the double +bond of cousinhood and matrimony. + +Unfortunately for our Spenserian inquiry, however, the full and +regular pedigree of these Nagles commences only with David, whose +marriage and the issue thereof are recorded at large in Irish books +of heraldry; whereas the preceding generations, to a remote antiquity, +are merely notified by the bare names of the son and heir as they +succeeded to the inheritance. + +John Nagle may have had a daughter marriageable at the time of +Spenser's marriage; and she may have married the poet,--and did, we +are convinced,--even though her family belonged to the Romish +persuasion, and the bridegroom to the Protestant Church. + +To this untoward circumstance--the difference in religion--there is +curious reference made in a remarkable passage of the "Amoretti," +which seems not only to indicate the name of her family, but to +screen the poet himself from the penalties denounced against +Protestants who intermarried with Roman Catholics. In the +Sixty-first Sonnet, the lady is said to be: + + "divinely wrought, + And of the _brood of Angels_ heavenly born; + And with the _crew of blessed Saints_ upbrought, + Each of which did her with their gifts adorn." + +Here we have distinctly her _birth_ and _education_, each assigned +to a different source. She is of the "brood" or family of +anagrammatic "Angels,"--otherwise, Nagles; but has been "upbrought," +or instructed, by persons whom Spenser denominates "Saints," or +Orthodox Protestants; for Spenser was by party and profession a +Puritan; and the Puritans were "Saints,"--to such as chose to accept +their own account of the matter. + +But there may be a yet deeper meaning, an anagrammatic +appropriateness, in this phrase, "crew of blessed Saints." The +Nagles of Moneanymmy had intermarried frequently with the St. Legers +of Doneraile; and thus such a close intimacy was established between +the families as to warrant the supposition that a child of the one +house might have been reared amongst the members of the other. +Elizabeth Spenser (born Nagle) may not unlikely have been educated +by the Puritan St. Legers. The name St. Leger, as Camden remarks, is +a compound name, derived from the German _Leodigar_ or _Leger_, +signifying "the Gatherer of the People." Verstigan also gives it the +same translation, as originating from _Leod_, _Lud_, or _Luyd_, which, +he says, means "folk or people." [23] Therefore St. Leger seems to +signify a folk, a gathering, a legion or "crew" of saints, a holy +crowd or crew,--which may have been the quibble extorted by +Spenser's "alchemy of wit" from the "upbringing" of Elizabeth Nagle, +his wife. He calls her with marked emphasis his "sweet _Saint_," his +"sovereign _Saint_"; and in the "Epithalamion" the temple-gates are +called on to: + + "Receive this _Saint_ with honors due." + +In praying to the gods for a large posterity, he places his request +on the ground, + + "That from the earth (which may they long possess + With lasting happiness!) + Up to your haughty palaces may mount + Of blessed _Saints_ for to increase the count." + +There is yet another solution, beside the anagrammatic one, for the +name of "Angel" so sedulously applied by the poet to his beloved. +The Nagle family, according to heraldry, were divided into three +branches, distinguished by peculiarities of surname. The Southern +branch signed themselves "Nagle,"--the Meath or Midland branch, +"Nangle,"--while the Connaught or Western shoot rejoiced in the more +euphonious cognomen of _Costello_! Let the heralds account for these +variations; we take them as we find them. The letter N, as we are +informed, according to the genius of the Irish tongue, is nothing +more than a prefix, set, _euphoniae gratia_, before the radical name +itself, when commencing with a vowel. Thus, the N'Angles of Ireland +were the Angles whose heroic deeds are duly recorded in the lists of +the battle of Hastings. They went over to Ireland with Strongbow; +one branch assumed (can the heralds tell us why?) the name of +Costello;--another became N'Angles, and the Southern shoot dwarfed +down their heavenly origin into prosaic Nagle. The well-known +punning exclamation of Pope Gregory, on observing the fairness and +beauty of some English children,--"Non Angli, sed Angeli forent, si +essent Christiani,"--may have set the fervid brain of Spenser on fire, +and suggested the divine origin of her he loved. Between Elizabeth +de Angelis--the pun of Gregory--and Elizabeth de Angulo--the latter +being the derivation of heralds and lawyers--what poet could +hesitate a moment? + +Our task is done. We think we have established our case. By anagram, +Elizabeth Nagle makes a perfect _Angel_; by heraldry and a +pontifical pun, the N'Angles of the County of Meath are _Angels_ in +indefeasible succession; Elizabeth belonged to the Red branch of her +family, and therefore must have resembled the royal Elizabeth; she +was brought up among the "crew of Saints" in the St. Leger family; +and, finally, her place of residence corresponds with that depicted +by the "passionate shepherd" as the home of his second mistress. We +think we have satisfied all the requirements of reasonable conviction, +and confidently await the verdict of that select few who may feel +interest in this purely literary investigation. + +Guided by the rules of anagram here laid down and illustrated, some +future commentator, more deeply versed in the history and scandal of +the Elizabethan era, may be able to identify real personages with +all the fantastic characters introduced in the "Faery Queen." + +[Footnote 1: See _Colin Clout's come home again_.] +[Footnote 2: _Vide_ Scott's _Life_.] +[Footnote 3: Upton's _Faery Queen_, Vol. I. xiv.] +[Footnote 4: See Wood's _Athenae Oxonienses_.] +[Footnote 5: See Hunter's _New illustrations of Shakspeare_, + Vol. II. p. 280.] +[Footnote 6: Book II. Canto vi. etc.--See Black's _Life + of Tasso_, Vol. II. p. 150.] +[Footnote 7: Upton, Vol. I. p. 14.--_Faery Queen_, Book + VI. Canto vi. st. 10, 17.] +[Footnote 8: _Vide_ that to Queen Anne.] +[Footnote 9: Cornwallis's _Essays_, p. 99.] +[Footnote 10: Camden's Remains, folio, 1614, p.164.] +[Footnote 11: _Iliad_, Z. 265.] +[Footnote 12: _Faery Queen_, Book VI. Canto x.] +[Footnote 13: Sonnet lxix.] +[Footnote 14: Sonnets lxxiii, lxxv, and lxxxii.] +[Footnote 15: Sonnet i.] +[Footnote 16: Sonnet viii.] +[Footnote 17: Sonnet xvii.] +[Footnote 18: Sonnet lxi.] +[Footnote 19: Sonnet lxxix.] +[Footnote 20: Sonnet lxxxiii.] +[Footnote 21: Stanza 9.] +[Footnote 22: Stanza 13.] +[Footnote 23: Verstigan's _Restitution of Decayed Intelligence_, + p. 226.] + + + + +MISS WIMPLE'S HOOP. + [Concluded.] + + +CHAPTER III. + +A year had passed since Maddy's flitting. The skimped delaine was +sadly rusty,--Miss Wimple very poor. The profits of the Hendrik +Athenaeum and Circulating Library accrued in slow and slender pittances. +A package of envelopes now and then, a few lead pencils, a box of +steel pens, a slate pencil to a school-boy, were all its sales. +Almost the last regular customer had seceded to the "Hendrik Book +Bazaar and Periodical Emporium,"--a pert rival, that, with +multifarious new-fangled tricks of attractiveness, flashed its +plate-glass eyes and turned up its gilded nose at Miss Wimple from +the other side of the way. + +But Miss Wimple's proud and honorable fund for the relief of the +shop, by no means fell off. As she had anticipated, her expert and +nimble needle was in steady demand by all the folks of Hendrik who +had fine sewing to give out. Her earnings from this source were +considerable; and, severely stinting herself in the very necessaries +of life by a strained ingenuity of economy, to which the skimped +delaine--turned and altered to the utter exhaustion of the cleverest +dressmaker's invention, and magically rejuvenated, as though again +and again dipped in the fountain of perpetual youth--bore conclusive +testimony, she bravely reinforced her fund from time to time. + +Miss Wimple's repasts were neither frequent nor sumptuous; "all the +delicacies of the season" hardly found their way to her table; and +in her bleak little nest, for it was now winter, a thin and scanty +shawl but coldly did the office of a blanket. + +But Miss Wimple partook of her tea and dry toast with a cheerful +heart, and shivered in her nest with illustrious patience,--regaled +by satisfied honor, and warmed by the smiles of courage and of hope. + +Between Simon and herself negotiations rested where we left them last; +only there was now a heartier welcome for him when he came, and +often a sparkling smile, that seemed to say, he had waited well, and +not in vain, she hoped,--a smile that, to the eye of his healthy +spirit, was an earnest of the rose-star's reappearance; it was only +behind the rusty skimped delaine, as behind a cloud. His visits were +not so rare as before, nor always "upon business"; he lingered +sometimes, and sometimes had _his_ way. + +One night, Simon was outrageously rebellious; he had cheated Sally +of half an hour, and spent it in rank mutiny; he compared the +rose-star to the remotest of the asteroids, as seen through Lord +Rosse's telescope, and instituted facetious comparisons between +Miss Wimple's honorable fund and the national debt of England. It +was near closing-time; Miss Wimple said, "Now, Simon, _will_ you go?" +--she had said that three times already. Some one entered. O, ho! +Miss Wimple snatched away her hand:--"Now go, or never come again!" +Simon glanced at the visitor,--a woman,--a stranger evidently, and +poor,--a beggar, most likely, or one of those Wandering Jews of +womankind, who, homeless, goalless, hopeless, tramp, tramp, tramp, +unresting, till they die. She had almost burst in, quite startling +Miss Wimple; but now she stood by the glass case, with averted face, +and shabby shawl drawn suspiciously about her, and waited to be +noticed, peering, meanwhile, through the little window into the dark +street. + +"Good-night, little Sally!" said Simon; "put up your bars, and so +put up my bars. Now there's a fine speech for you!--if my name were +Philip Withers, you'd call it poetry." + +The strange woman actually stamped with her foot twice, and moved a step +nearer to the window. Miss Wimple took it for a gesture of impatience, +and at once arose to accost her. Simon eyed her curiously, and somewhat +suspiciously, as he passed; but, taking her attire for his clue, he +thought he recognized one of a class with whom Miss Wimple was +accustomed to cope successfully; so he took his leave unconcerned. + +Miss Wimple approached the stranger. "What will you have?" she asked. +But the woman only followed Simon with her eyes, not heeding the +question. + +"Do you hear me?" repeated she; "I say, what will you have, Madam?" + +By that time, Simon had disappeared among the distant shadows of the +street. The woman turned suddenly and confronted Miss Wimple. + +"Look at me," she said. + +Miss Wimple looked, and saw a pale and haggard, almost fierce, face, +that had once been fair,--one that she might, she fancied, have met +somewhere before. + +"You seem to have suffered,--to suffer now. What can I do for you?" + +"Look at me!" + +"I see; you are very wretched, and you were not always as you are now. +You are cold; are you hungry also? I, too, am very poor; but I will +do all I can. I will warm you and give you food." + +The woman walked to where the bright camphene lamp hung, and stood +under it. + +"Now look at me, Miss Wimple." + +"I have looked enough; desperation on a young woman's face is not a +pleasant sight to see. If you have a secret, best keep it. I have to +deal only with your weariness, your hunger, and your half-frozen +limbs. If I can do nothing for those, you must go.--Merciful Heaven! +Miss Madeline Splurge!" + +"Yes!--Now hide me, quick, or some one will be coming; and warm me, +and feed me, or I shall surely die on your hands." + +Not another word said Miss Wimple,--asked no question, uttered no +exclamation of surprise; but straightway ran and closed the windows, +put up the bars, adjusted the shutters in the glass door, and +screwed them down. Next she took Madeline's hand and led her up the +narrow staircase to the nest, seated her in the little Yankee +rocking-chair, and wrapped her in the scanty, faded shawl that +served for a coverlet. Then she ran quickly down into the cellar, and, +with a hammer, broke in pieces an old packing-box;--it was a brave +achievement for her tender hands. Back to the nest again with the +sticks;--Madeline slept in the chair, poor heart! + +Miss Wimple made a fire in her little stove, and when some water was +hot, she roused her guest with a kiss. Silently, languidly, and with +closed eyes, Madeline yielded herself to the kind offices of her +gentle nurse, who bathed her face and neck, her hands and feet, and +dressed her hair; and when that was done, she placed a pillow under +the wanderer's head, and, with another kiss, dismissed her to sleep +again. + +Then she prepared tea and toast, and, running down to the street, +returned quickly with some fresh eggs and a morsel of golden butter, +wherefrom she prepared a toothsome supper, the fragrance of which +presently aroused the famished sufferer, so that she opened her +eyes feebly, and smiled, and kissed Miss Wimple's hand when she +came to draw her nearer to the table. Then Madeline ate,--not +heartily, but enough to comfort her; and very soon her head fell +back upon the pillow, and she would have slept in the chair again, +holding Miss Wimple's hand. But Miss Wimple arose and took the sheets +from the cot, and, having warmed them by the fire, made up the bed +afresh,--a most smooth, sweet, and comfortable nest; and, raising +Madeline in her arms, supporting her still sleeping head upon her +shoulder, she very tenderly and skilfully removed her garments, all +coarse and torn, soiled and damp, and clad her afresh in pure +night-clothes of her own. But first--for Madeline began to shiver, +and her teeth had chattered slightly--Miss Wimple untied her own +warm petticoat of quilted silk, that for comfort and for decency +had been her best friend through the hard winter,--wherefore it +was most dearly prized and ingeniously saved,--and put it upon +Madeline, whom then she led, almost carrying her, as one may lead a +worn-out and already slumbering child, to the nest, and laid her +gently there, drawing the covering snugly about her, and spreading +the faithful shawl over all. And all the while, not a word had been +spoken by either;--with one, it was the silence of pious carefulness, +--with the other, of newly-found safety and perfect rest. Then +Miss Wimple placed the lamp on the floor behind the door, fed the +stove with fresh sticks, and with her feet on the little iron hearth, +and her head resting on her knees, thought there all night. + +All night poor Madeline's slumber was broken by incoherent mutterings, +convulsive starts, and, more than once, a fearful cry; and when the +day dawned, she suddenly sat erect, stared wildly about her, and +raved. A fierce, though brief, fever had seized her; she was +delirious, and knew not where she was. When Miss Wimple would have +soothed her, tenderly caressing, and promising her a sister's +kindness and protection,--a home safely guarded from intrusion,-- +Madeline assailed her savagely, bidding her be off, with her smooth +treachery, her pretty lies. + +"'Sister!'--devil! Do I not know what a hell your 'home' is?--and as +for 'safety,' shall I seek that among snakes? Oh, I am sick of all +of you!--have I not told you so a hundred times?--sick with the +contempt I feel for you, and weary of your stupid tricks." + +"Madeline," said Miss Wimple, "look at me! Here,--touch my face, my +dress! Do you not know me now? Do you not see that I am not your +mother, nor Josephine, nor Adelaide, but only Sally Wimple, little +Miss Wimple, of the bookstore? What harm could I do you?--how could +I offend or hurt you? Look me in the eyes, I say, and know me, and +be calm. See! this is my chamber,--this is my bed; below is the +little shop,--the Athenaeum, you remember. We are alone in the house; +there is no one to hear or see. You came to me,--did you not?--over +the long, weary road, through the darkness and the bitter cold, for +warmth and food, for rest and safety; and I have hidden you away, +and watched by you. Look around you,--look through that window; do +you not know those trees, the mulberries by the Athenaeum?--they are +bare now; but you have seen them so before, a dozen winters. Look at +this face,--look at this dress,--look at this dress!--Ah! now you +know all about it,--'little Miss Wimple,' of course; and this shall +be your home, and you are safe here." + +When Miss Wimple began to speak, she stood somewhat off from the bed; +for Madeline, with a gesture full of hate, and close-set lips that +looked dangerous, had thrust her back. But as she proceeded with her +calm and clear appeal, Madeline was arrested, in the very movement +of springing from the bed, in an attitude "worth a painter's eye," +half-sitting, half-reclining, supported by her right arm, which, +rigidly extended, was planted pillar-like in the bed,--with her left +hand tossing aside the bed-clothes,--her knees drawn up, as for the +instant of stepping out upon the floor,--her right shoulder, bare, +round, and white, thrust from the night-dress, which in the +restlessness of her distraction had burst its chaste fastenings, +bestowing a chance glimpse of a most proud and beauteous bosom,--a +glimpse but dimly caught through the thick brown meshes of her +dishevelled hair. So, now, with impatient eyes and eager lips, she +rested and listened. And when Miss Wimple said,--"I have hidden you +away and watched by you," the fierce look was softened to one of +pitiful reflection and recollection; and at the words, "Look at this +dress! Ah! now you know all about it,--'little Miss Wimple,' of +course!" she sat up and stretched forth her arms beseechingly, +and in a moment was sobbing helplessly on Sally's neck. + +A little while Miss Wimple, still and thoughtful, held her so, that +her soul's bitterness might pour itself out in wholesome tears; then +she gently stroked the tangled brown hair, and said,--"Sit close +beside me now, and lean upon my bosom, and tell me all,--where you +have been, and how you have fared, and what you would have me do." + +With a brave effort, Madeline controlled herself, and replied, firmly, +though with averted face, + +"You remember, dear Miss Wimple, our last interview. I insulted you +then." + +Miss Wimple made no sign. Madeline blushed,--brow, neck, and bosom, +--crimson. + +"And then I told you that I believed in you as I believed in little +else, in this world or the next; and I said, that, if in my hour of +shame and outcasting, I could implore the help of any human being, I +would come to you before all others. I have come. You thought me +raving then, and pitied me, because you did not understand. +Presently you will understand, and you will still pity me,--but with +a difference. + +"I fled away that very night, you recollect,--fled from my +self-contempt, from the sickening scorn I felt for them,--for +_him_." + +There was agony in the effort with which she uttered that last word. +She named no names, but, with a sort of desperation, raised her head +and looked Miss Wimple in the face; in the quick, sensitive glances +they interchanged at that moment the omission was supplied. + +"Though my flight was premeditated, I took with me no clothes save +those I wore; but I had concealed on my person every jewel and +trinket I possessed. With these,--for I readily converted them into +money,--I purchased a safe asylum in an obscure but decent family, +whose poverty did not afford them the indulgence of a scrupulous +fastidiousness or impertinent curiosity; it was enough for their +straitened conscience that I had the manners and the purse of a lady, +--they asked no questions which might cost them a profitable boarder, +the only one they could accommodate in their poor way. I had no fear +that any hue-and-cry would be raised for me; I had left behind me +two who would prevent that,--in that, my worst foes were my best +friends. If I had any relatives who cared for me enough to pursue me, +I rejoiced in at least one sister on whose cunning, if not good sense, +I could rely, to convince them of the futility of such efforts,--one +_friend_ whose fears would be ingenious and busy to put the +best-laid chase at fault. + +"So I lay concealed and safe till the time came when I had to +purchase pity, help, and precious secrecy. My discreet hosts could +furnish those extras; but they were poor, and such luxuries are +expensive in New York;--it was not long before my last dollar was +gone. I had been ill,--_ill_, Miss Wimple,--and every way crippled; +I could not, if the work had offered itself to me, have earned more +then. My last trinket was gone; I had pawned whatever I could spare +from the hard exigencies of living; for I am no coward,--I did not +wish to die,--I had challenged my fate, and would meet it. I had +even changed with the women of the house the silk dress I wore, and +my fine linen, for the mean rags you cleansed me of last night, +--that they might pay themselves so; and when all was expended, and +the last trick tried that pride, honor, and modesty could wink at, I +came away in the night, leaving no unsettled scores behind me. But I +saw my own resources sinking fast; I knew I must presently be debtor +to some one for protection, aid, and counsel. I remembered you,--and +that I had said I could beg of none but you; therefore I am here. + +"And now, Miss Wimple,"--and as she spoke, Madeline arose, and, +standing before her companion, said her say slowly, proudly, with +head erect and unflinching eyes,--"I told you I believed in you, as +I believed in nothing then, on earth or in heaven,--as I believe +only in God's mercy now. I will prove that that was no merely pretty +phrase, meant cunningly to cheat you of your forgiveness for a +coarse insult. Since I saw you last, I have been--a mother; I have +brought forth a child in shame and sin and blasphemous defiance, +--and God has been merciful to it and to me, and has taken it unto +Himself. I think you also will be merciful; you will help me to save +myself from the pit that yawns just now at my feet; you will help me +to prove it false, that a woman who has strayed off so far in her +wilful way may not, if she be strong and truly proud, retrace her +steps, to fall in at last--though last of all the stragglers--with +the happy procession of honored women,--of women who have done the +best they could, and borne their burden bravely." + +Miss Wimple sat on the side of the bed, her chin resting on her +clasped hands, her gaze fixed vacantly on the floor,--"Poor baby! +Dead,--thank God!" was all she said. + +"Miss Wimple," said Madeline, "I have addressed myself to your heart, +rather than to your understanding, your education. I had no right to +do so. If my presence is, in your opinion, an outrage to your house, +I am ready to go now. I can face the street, the town; no one will +dare to stop me, if any were inclined." + +"Be seated, Miss Splurge,--you are very welcome here. My +appreciation of the difference between your education and mine is as +kind as you could wish. This is a question of hearts,--and our hearts +have been always right, I hope; we are as woman to woman, and the +womanly part of either of us may still be trusted. Be seated,--I +have a word to say for myself"; and, as she spoke, Miss Wimple went +to her little bureau, and, unlocking a drawer, drew from it a +miniature rosewood cabinet; unlocking that, again, she took +something out, which, as she returned to resume her seat beside +Madeline, was hidden in her hand. + +"Miss Splurge," said Miss Wimple, "the night on which you +disappeared so strangely from this place, I had been visiting a sick +friend on the other side of the river, and returned home at a late +hour,--that is, about nine o'clock, perhaps. As I entered the +covered bridge, I heard the voices of a lady and a gentleman in +excited conversation." + +Madeline became deadly pale; but she did not speak, uttered no +exclamation,--only a slight movement of her eyebrows expressed +eagerness, as she turned more attentively to Miss Wimple, who +proceeded as though unconscious of any trace of emotion in her +companion. + +"The voice of the gentleman was familiar to me; the lady's I did not, +at first, recognize,--something had changed its quality. Supposing +themselves alone,--for it was plain they had not heard me approach +and enter the bridge,--they were incautious; their words reached me +distinctly. I might have retraced my steps and waited till they had +gone; but the moon was shining brightly, and the night was very still, +--in a pause of their conversation they might have heard or seen me; +I chose to _spare_ them that. So I fell back into a corner, where the +shadows were deepest, and remained quite quiet until they went away. +I have told you that I heard their words; but I did not understand +them then;--now, I do." + +Madeline bowed her head. Miss Wimple seemed not to observe that, but +continued in the same quiet, even tone:-- + +"When they had gone, I found, lying in the moonlight near the +bridge--this." + +Miss Wimple held out the little pocket-book. Madeline started, made +a quick movement, as though to snatch the book, but checked herself +with an effort, and said, with stern composure,-- + +"Well?" + +"Well," said Miss Wimple, "there it is, and it is yours. It contains +a card, for the safety of which you were once concerned. It has +remained as safe, from that hour to this,--not only from my curiosity, +but that of all others, be they friends or foes of yours,--as though +you had kept it hidden in your bosom, and defended it with your +teeth and nails; _on my honor_!" + +In these last words, and only then, Miss Wimple showed that she +could remember an insult, and avenge it--in her own way. She dropped +the pocket-book into the lap of Madeline, who, without a word, placed +it in her bosom. + +"And now, my poor Madeline," said Miss Wimple, "we will speak no +more of these things. I beg you to understand me clearly,"--and +Miss Wimple suddenly altered her tone,--"we must not recur to this +subject. You will remain with me until we shall have decided what is +best for us to do. You are quite safe in this house; that you were +ever here need not be known hereafter, unless your honor or your +happiness should require that we divulge it. I must go now and open +the shop; and when I return to you, we will speak, if you please, +of other things." + +"_But Miss Wimple's Hoop,--will you never come to that? Or is it +your intention to 'omit the part of Hamlet by particular request_?'" + +Slowly and fairly,--we come to it now. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +When the neat and modest little mistress of the Hendrik Athenaeum and +Circulating Library descended to open the shop and take down the bars, +all her sense of delicacy was shocked, and she was brought to shame; +for her meek skirts, missing the generous support of the quilted +silk petticoat, clung about her mortified extremities in thin and +limp dejection. It was plain to Miss Wimple that she looked +poverty-stricken,--an aspect most dreadful to the poor, and upon +which the brothers and sisters of penury who by hook or by crook +contrive to keep up appearances for the nonce have no mercy. +"Today," she thought, "callers will delight me not, nor customers +neither." But Miss Wimple was in a peculiarly provoking predicament, +and for such there is ever a malignant star;--callers and customers +dropped in, one after another, all day, as they had rarely come +before,--as though, indeed, her most spiteful enemy had got wind of +the petticoat affair, and sent them to plague her. + +That day, Miss Wimple had recourse to as much painfully ingenious +dodging behind the low counters as though she had a cloven foot to +hide. When evening came, she could have sat down--if she had been +any other plagued woman in the world but Sally Wimple--and had a +good cry. It was bitter weather, and she had shivered much;--she did +not mind that; but to look poverty-stricken! No, she did not cry +_outside_, but it was a narrow escape. In her trouble, her eyes +wandered around the shop beseechingly; and lo! she beheld in the +window a timely hooped skirt,--a daring speculation wherein she had +lately invested, in consideration of the growing importance of her +millinery department; and straightway Miss Wimple went and took the +hoop, and offered it up for a pride-offering in the stead of her +delicacy, that was so dear to her. It was a thing of touching +artlessness to do; only so cunning-simple a soul as Sally Wimple +could ever have thought of it. She sat up late that night, engaged +in compromising with her prejudices, by drawing out the whalebones, +one by one, from the "Alboni," shaving them down with a piece of +glass, very thin, and tucking them,--until all their loud defiance +was subdued, and for Miss Wimple's Hoop it might be tenderly +deprecated that it was nothing to speak of, "such a _leetle_ one." + +The sacrifice was made, and, let us hope, not merely figuratively +accepted by Him to whom _prejudices_ may arise today an offering +not less honored than was the blood of rams in the hour when Abraham +laid his first-born on an altar in the thicket of Jehovah-jireh. + +If any challenge the probabilities of this incident, and cavil at +the chance that Miss Wimple's necessity could, under any +circumstances, bring forth such an invention, I hope I have only to +remind them that that brave angel had become straitened to a point +whereat she had neither material from which to erect another quilted +petticoat, nor the means of procuring it, even if she could spare the +time necessary to the making of one,--which she could not, being now +closely occupied between the engagements of her hired needle and the +newly-found cares that Charity had imposed upon her. + +But, however the probabilities may appear, Miss Wimple's Hoop was a +shaved-whalebone fact; and the quilted petticoat would never have +been missed, but for the officious scrutiny of the eyes, and the +provoking prating of the tongues, of a sophisticated few who +marvelled greatly at the pliancy and the "perfect set" of Miss Wimple's +Alboni,--"and that demure little prig, too! who'd have thought it?" + +As for Simon Blount, he was quick to perceive the new experience to +which the skimped delaine had been introduced, and at first it +disturbed and embarrassed him; but his light, elastic temper soon +recovered its careless buoyancy, with a sly smile at what he +considered an oddity, newly discovered, in the character of his +prim sweetheart. "Oh! it's all right, of course," he thought; +"Sally knows what she's about; but it's very funny!" + +And so, if this strange disturbing of the established order of +"things" in the kingdom of Wimple had rested with the exaltation of +the Hoop, that body politic would presently have been reduced to +tranquillity, no doubt, and the all-agogness of Hendrik would have +come quietly to nought, like any other popular flutter following +upon a new thing under the sun. But in a romantic cause the +conscientiousness of Miss Wimple, for all her seeming matter-of-fact, +took on a quality of chivalry; and she displayed a Quixotism most +tiltfully disposed toward any windmill of conventional proprieties +that might plant itself in the way by which her beauteous and +distressed damsel was to escape. So, before all the decencies of +Hendrik had recovered from the shock of the Hoop, she threw them +into a new and worse "conniption" by an even more daring innovation +upon their good, easy notions of her; for the next thing she did +was--a basque and flounces. Thus it happened:-- + +Madeline had become quite another Madeline,--say a Magdalen, rather, +--under the gentle discipline of her admirable angel. Her wonted +distraction had subsided into a pensive sadness, which manifested +itself in many a grateful, graceful tenderness toward that glorifier +of the skimped delaine. She had observed the Hoop at once, and +greeted it with a solitary smile, accepting it for a happy sign and +a token; for she had recognized Simon Blount when she turned into +the shop, that night, out of the darkness and the cold, and, with +the alert intelligence of a woman, even so self-absorbed as she was +then, had construed his gallant "good-night." She thought she +understood Miss Wimple's Hoop, because she had not discovered the +poetry in Miss Wimple's quilted petticoat. They had not spoken of +those things again. Delicacy was the law for those two; and to do +their best, and thankfully, bravely, accept the first deliverance +Heaven might send them, was their religion. Like two Micawbers of +Faith, Hope, and Charity, they waited for something to "turn up." + +Miss Wimple invested a daily three-cent piece in a New York paper, +and diligently conned the "Wants" before the Marriages and Deaths, +--extraordinary woman! An "opening" had but to show itself, and +Miss Wimple was ready to fling her character into the breach for the +benefit of her Magdalen. Strong-minded woman! + +At last it came. A gentleman who had recently lost his wife wanted a +house-keeper and governess for his two little girls,--the offices to +be united in the person of "a lady by birth, education, and +associations"; to such a liberal salary would be given; and in case +she should be in straitened circumstances, a reasonable advance +would be made, "to enable the lady to assume at once the position of +a respected member of his family." The very place! + +Now what did that dashing Miss Wimple-Quixote--of such is the Kingdom +of Heaven!--but sit down and pour her enormous little heart out in a +letter to a person she had never seen or heard of,--telling him +everything but names and localities, and appealing, with an +inspiration, to his divine spark. There is no doubt that, "for that +occasion only," Providence sent an advertiser to the "Tribune" to +justify the large faith of Pity in skimped delaine; for the word of +Hope and Love that Miss Wimple let fall, unstudied, from the heart, +fell upon a genial mind, and lo!-- + + "It raised a sister from the dust, + It saved a soul from death!" + +The gentleman--the nobleman!--thanked his unknown correspondent, +whose hand he would esteem it an honor to touch, for the opportunity +she had afforded him to do good in a graceful way. Mrs. Morris +(Miss Wimple had written: "Let us know this poor lady as 'Mrs. Morris,' +a childless widow") should be most welcome to his house; she need +never be aware that the sad passages of her history had come to his +knowledge, and by all over whom he exercised authority or influence +her _sorrows_ should be reverenced. He took the liberty to inclose a +check, which Mrs. Morris would have the goodness to regard as a small +advance on her salary; she would make whatever preparation she might +deem necessary, at her perfect leisure; he would be happy to see her +as soon as it should be quite agreeable to her to come. Once more, +with all his heart, he thanked the admirable lady who had in so +remarkable a manner distinguished him by her noble impulse of +confidence. It would be his dearest duty hereafter to deserve it. +And he gave his address: "Lawrence Osgood, Fourteenth St., New York." + +It was evident that the "necessary preparations" for Madeline's +appearance in this new _role_ could not be made in Hendrik. Miss Wimple +was distressingly sensitive for the safety of her _protegee_ from +scandalous discovery. Even she herself could not expend any +considerable portion of Mr. Osgood's advance without arousing +surmise and provoking dangerous prying. Besides, how should she get +the money for the check?--to whom dare she confess herself in +possession of it? Of course, _there_ was a conclusive impossibility. +Nevertheless, something must be done at once to put Madeline at +least in travelling trim; for the things of which--to use her own +sensitive expression--Miss Wimple had "cleansed" her when she came +were out of the question. It was as true of this poor young lady in +her trunkless plight, as of any dishevelled Marius in crinoline, who +sits down and weeps among the brand-new ruins of a Carthage of satin, +lawns, and laces, that she had Nothing to Wear. So Miss Wimple, +encouraged by the happy success of the Hoop stratagem, forthwith +began to cast about her; and for the present Mr. Osgood's letter and +the check were hushed up in her bosom. + +Now Miss Wimple and Madeline Splurge were examples of how much our +views of a person's character have to do with our notions of his or +her stature or carriage. All Hendrik spoke of the demure heroine of +the skimped delaine as "_Little_ Miss Wimple"; and Madeline, though +the youngest of the sisters, was universally known as "Miss Splurge," +--as it were, awfully. Yet Miss Wimple and Madeline were almost +exactly "of a size," by any measurement, and Miss Wimple's clothes +were a sweet fit for Madeline; the petticoat experiment had +discovered that. So the skimped delaine, Miss Wimple thought, must +be promoted to the proud person of the handsome Madeline, and +something must be found to take its place. + +Now, among store of respectable family-rubbish, scrupulously saved +by half a graveyard-full of female relations,--for the women-folk of +the Wimples had been ever noted for their thrift,--a certain quaint +garment had come down to Sally from her great-grandmother. It was a +black "silken wonder," wherewith, no doubt, that traditionally dear, +delightful creature was wont to astonish the streets, in the days of +her vanity and frivolous vexation of spirit. + +A generous expanse of cape pertained to it, and it was cut much +shorter behind than before, in order to display to advantage the +pert red heels whereon that antique Wimple aforetime exalted herself. +"With some trifling alterations," said Miss Wimple to herself, +"this will do nicely for me; and my delaine--which is not so very bad, +after all--a little cleaning will do wonders for it--will look +sweetly appropriate on the Widow Morris, while her outfit is making +in New York." + +So Miss Wimple let down the dress behind, by piecing it in the back +just below the waist; and from the generous cape she made a basque +to hide the alteration; and some stains, like iron-mould, on the +skirt, she covered with three flounces, made of some fine crape that +was left from her mother's funeral. + +"_But, by your leave, where was this 'silken wonder' when your +unhandy heroine was casting about her for a substitute for the +quilted petticoat_?" + +Anywhere but in her mind. Of the _round-aboutness_ of her directness +you have had examples enough already; nothing could be more romantic +than her simplest realities, and that which would seem most +out-of-the-way to another woman was often "handiest" to her. So, +when you ask me, Why did not Sally Wimple sooner think of her +great-grandmother's dress? my easiest answer is, Because she _was_ +Sally Wimple. + +When Miss Wimple first put on the new dress, in Madeline's presence, +Madeline smiled again, for she thought she understood; and Miss Wimple +smiled also, for she knew no one could understand. + +Then Miss Wimple broke the news to Madeline, by telling her that +"an old friend of her father's," a wealthy Mr. Osgood, of New York, +was in want of a governess for his two daughters, and had written +to her on the subject;--(a not very improbable story; for Madeline +could not but be aware that in the conscientious and proud little +bookseller was the making of a very respectable "Jane Eyre," under +favorable circumstances;)--whereupon she had taken the liberty to +recommend a clever and accomplished friend of her own, one Mrs. Morris, +a widow,--"of course, that's you, Madeline,"--and Mr. Osgood had +accordingly done her the honor to offer the place to Mrs. Morris, +and, "with characteristic consideration and delicacy," had inclosed +a check, by way of an advance on her salary, which would be liberal, +to defray the expense of an outfit,--"and there it was." His writing +to her, Miss Wimple said, was a circumstance as strange as it was +fortunate; for, in fact, she had, personally, but a very slight +acquaintance with him, and was "quite sure she should not recognize +him, if she were to see him now";--as for his little girls, she had +never seen them, nor even heard their names. But Mr. Osgood's +character was of the very highest, and she rejoiced that Madeline +would have so honorable, influential, and generous a protector, who +had given his word that she should be received and entertained with +the consideration due to a superior and esteemed friend. + +[Never mind Miss Wimple's white lies, my dear; there is no danger +that they will be found filling the blank place in the Recording +Angel's book, left where his tear blotted out My Uncle Toby's oath. +And in a purely worldly point of view, too, those touching offerings +to Mercy were safe enough; for when Miss Wimple promised Madeline +that she would find Mr. Osgood "a singularly discreet person, who +would be sure not to annoy her with impertinent curiosity," it was +not said by way of a hint;--she well knew, that, from the moment the +proud and jealous Madeline departed across the threshold of the +Hendrik Athenaeum and Circulating Library, she would set a close and +solemn seal upon her heart and upon her lips, and the "old familiar +faces" and places would be to her as the things that Memory is a +silent widow for. Nevertheless, in writing to Mr. Osgood, to +acknowledge the receipt of the check, and to thank him, that cunning +Miss Wimple took the precaution to put him in possession of as much +of _her_ personality as would serve his purpose in case of accident, +and provide for the chance of a shock to his suspicious and vigilant +governess.] + +Madeline received Miss Wimple's extraordinary good news with the +silence of one bewildered. Nor even when she had come fully to +appreciate all the beauty and the joy of it, did she give audible +expression to her gratitude; she was too proud--or rather say, too +religious--to subject the divine emotion to the vulgar ordeal of +words; she only kissed Miss Wimple's hands, and mutely laid them on +her bosom. + +Then Miss Wimple arrayed her _protegee_ in the skimped delaine, for +which the "trifling alterations" and the "little cleaning" _had_ +done wonders,--and Madeline was, as it were, "clothed on with +chastity." And Miss Wimple was jubilant over the charming effect, +and "went on" in a manner surprising to behold. First she kissed +Madeline, and then she kissed the dress; and she told Madeline, in a +small torrent of triumph, what a tremendous fellow of a skimped +delaine it was,--how cheap, and how _dear_ it was,--what remarkable +powers of endurance it had displayed, and with what force and +versatility of character it had adapted itself to every new +alteration or trimming,--and how she was so used to its ways, and +it to hers, that she was almost ready to believe it could "get on +her by itself,"--and how she felt sure it was expressly +manufactured to do good in the world,--until she had so glorified +the lowly skimped delaine, that Madeline began to feel in it like a +queen, whose benignant star has forever exalted her above the vulgar +sensation of having Nothing to Wear. + +Now Madeline was quite ready to depart on her pilgrimage of penitence. +But almost at the parting hour a circumstance occurred which +grievously alarmed Miss Wimple, and so roused the devil whereof +Madeline had been but just now possessed, that it stirred within her. + + +CHAPTER V. + +The "nest" looked out upon the street by two front windows, that were +immediately over the sign of the Hendrik Athenaeum and Circulating +Library. There was also a small side-window, affording a view of a +bit of yard, quite private, and pleasant in its season, with an oval +patch of grass, some hollyhocks, a grape-vine trained over a pretty +structure of lattice to form a sort of summer-house, and a martin-box, +in a decidedly original church-pattern, mounted on a tall, white pole. +Of course the scene was cheerless and unsightly now; lumpy brown +patches of earth showed through the unequally melting snow, where the +grass-plot should have been; a few naked and ugly sticks were all +the promise of the hollyhocks' yellow glory; the bare grape-vine +showed on the dingy lattice like a tangled mesh of weather-stained +ropes; and "there were no birds in last year's nest" to make the +martin-box look social. + +This little window was Madeline's chosen seat; and hither she brought, +sometimes a book, but more frequently a portion of Miss Wimple's +work from the millinery department, and wholesomely employed her mind, +skilfully her fingers. Here she could look out upon the earth and sky, +and enjoy, unspied, the sympathy of their desolation,--never daring +to think of all the maddening memories that lay under the front +windows: those she had never once approached, never even turned her +eyes towards; Miss Wimple had observed that. + +But on the day of the installation of the basque and the flounces, +and the promotion of the skimped delaine, late in the afternoon, +the twilight (falling, as Madeline sat at the side-window, gazing +vacantly down upon the forlornness of the little yard, and Miss Wimple +stood at the front window, gazing as abstractedly down upon the hard, +pitiless coldness of the street),--the thoughts of both intent on the +_must_ of their parting on the morrow, and the _how_ of Madeline's +going,--suddenly Madeline left her safe seat, and came and leaned upon +Miss Wimple's shoulder, looking over it into the street. Only a +minute, half a minute, but--surely the Enemy tempted her!--too long; +for ere Miss Wimple, quick as she was to take the alarm, could turn +and lead her away, Madeline's vigilant, fierce glance had caught +sight of him, (alack! Philip Withers!) and, ashen-pale, with parted +lips and suspended breath, and wide, blazing eyes, she stood, rooted +there, and stared at him. But Miss Wimple dragged her away just in +time,--no, he had not seen her,--and for a brief space the two women +stood together, near the bed, in the corner farthest from the window; +and Miss Wimple held Madeline's face close down upon her own shoulder, +and pressed her hand commandingly, and whispered, "Hush!" + +So they stood in silence,--no cry, no word, escaped. And when, +presently, Madeline, with a long heart-heaved sigh, raised her head +and looked Miss Wimple in the face, there was blood on her lips. And +blood was on Miss Wimple's dress. Yea! the basqued and flounced +disguise was raggedly rent at the shoulder. + +Then Madeline went and lay down upon the bed, and turned her face to +the wall,--and there was no noise. And Miss Wimple covered the blood +and the rents on her shoulder with her mother's lace cape,--the +familiar companion of the skimped delaine,--and went down into the +shop. + +When Miss Wimple, having put up the bars, ascended to the nest to +join Madeline in the little cot,--Madeline slept quietly enough; but +a trace of blood, with all its sad story, was on her lips, and a +lingering frown of pain on her brow. Very carefully, not to disturb +her, Miss Wimple lay down by her side, but not to sleep;--her +thoughts were anxiously busy with the morrow. + +In the morning, when Miss Wimple awoke, her eyes met the eyes of +Madeline, no longer fierce and wild, but full of patience and tender +gratitude. The brave Magdalen, leaning on her elbow in the bed, had +been watching Miss Wimple as she slept, her poor heart fairly +oppressed with its thankfulness to God, and to his saving minister. +When, Miss Wimple opened her eyes, Madeline bent over her and kissed +her on the forehead, and Miss Wimple smiled. Then both arose and put +on their garments,--Madeline the skimped delaine, and Miss Wimple +the flounces. Oh! the grotesque pathos of that exchange!--and +Madeline did not remark with what haste, and a certain awkward +bashfulness, Miss Wimple retired to a far corner and covered her +shoulders with the lace cape. + +All that day the two women were very still;--the approaching hour of +parting was not adverted to between them, but the low tone in which +they spake of other and lesser things showed that it was first of +all in their thoughts and on their hearts. To the latest moment they +merely _understood each other_. The cars went from the branch +station at ten o'clock. It was nine when Miss Wimple released from +its old-fashioned bandbox--as naturally as if it had been all along +agreed upon between them, and not, as was truly the case, utterly +forgotten until then--her well-saved and but little used bonnet of +black straw, and put it on Madeline's head, kissing her, as a mother +does her child, as she tied the bow under her chin; and she took +from the bed the faithful shawl, and drew it snugly, tenderly, +around Madeline's shoulders,--Madeline only blushing; to resist, to +remonstrate, she well knew, had been in vain. There had been some +exchanging of characters, you perceive, no less than of costumes. + +"And now where shall we put those?" asked Miss Wimple, holding in +her hand Mr. Osgood's check, and a trifle of ready money for the +immediate needs of the journey. + +Madeline replied by silently drawing from her bosom the little +pocket-book, and handing it to her friend, who opened it in a +matter-of-course way that was full of delicacy; and--no doubt +accidentally, and innocently, as to any trick of pretty sentiment-- +deposited the check and the bank-note beside that card. + +And now it was time to part. Miss Wimple took up the dim chamber-lamp, +and led Madeline down the stairs,--both silent, calm: those were not +crying women. As they entered the shop, Miss Wimple immediately set +down the lamp on the nearest end of the counter, and went with +Madeline straight to the door, whither its slender ray hardly reached, +and where the blood-spots and the rents on her shoulder might not be +noticed,--or, at least, not clearly defined. Then, with a +business-like "Ah! I had forgotten,"--admirably feigned,--she hastily +removed the shawl from Madeline's shoulders, and the lace cape from +her own; and she put the lace cape on Madeline, and covered it with +the shawl. This time Madeline shrank, and would have forbidden the +charitable surprise; but Miss Wimple moved as though to open the door, +and said,-- + +"Madeline, in mind, and heart, and soul, do you feel ready?" + +"Yes!" + +"Then go!--Believe in God and yourself, and do the best you can." + +And Madeline said,-- + +"And you, also, must believe in me, and pray for me; be patient with +me, and wait. If the time should ever come when I can comfort you, +with God's help I will hasten to you, wherever you may be." + +And they kissed each other, and both said, "God bless you!" + +So Madeline departed quickly, and presently was lost in the shadows +beyond the shop-lamps. + +[Next morning, when Sally Wimple went to take down the bars, her +neighbors were astonished; for it was already reported and believed +that she had been seen going from the Athenaeum to the ten o'clock +train the night before.] + +Then Miss Wimple closed the door and went back to her room, where she +sat down on the bed and had a good cry, which was a great comfort. +When, after that, she arose, and, standing before the glass to +undress herself, perceived the blood-stains and the rents, she +straightway went and brought her work-basket, and, seating herself +under the dim lamp, without fear or hesitation cut down the dress, +_low-neck_--There!--Then she lay down in the bed and slept sweetly, +with a smile on her face. + +Ah! cunning, artless Sally Wimple! No wonder the dashing directness +of your character had ever by your neighbors been mistaken for +simplicity. The thing which was easiest for you to do was ever the +hardest thing for you to bear. In the morning, this new Godiva of +Hendrik--not less to be honored than she of Coventry, in all she +underwent and overcame--descended to her shop, "clothed on with +chastity"; and then her dreadful trial began. I claim for her even +more merit than the pure heart of the world has accorded to her +namesake who: + + "took the tax away, + And built herself an everlasting name," + +by as much as her task was harder, herself more helpless, and her +reward less. Like her of Coventry, + + "left alone, the passions of her mind, + As winds from all the compass shift and blow, + Made war upon each other for an hour, + Till Pity won." + +She said to the World,--"If this woman pay your tax, she dies." + +And the World mocked,--"You would not let your little finger ache +for such as this!" + +"But I would die," said she,--"and more,--I will bear your mocking +and your hisses!" + +"Oh! ay, ay, ay! you talk!" said the World. + +But we have seen already. She had no herald to send forth and +"bid him cry, with sound of trumpet, all the hard condition." No +palfrey awaited her, "wrapt in purple, blazoned with armorial gold." +For her, indeed, + + + "The little wide-mouthed heads upon the spout, + Had cunning eyes to see..." + + "...the blind walls + Were full of chinks and holes; and, overhead, + Fantastic gables stared." + + +She had her low churls, her Peeping Toms,--"compact of thankless +earth," who bored moral auger-holes in fear, and spied. Her nudeness +was more complete than hers of Coventry, by as much as ridicule is +more ruthless than coarse curiosity. + +Not merely the delicacy of her "inmost bower," but all the +protection of her forlornness, she exposed naked to the town, to +take that tax away; and when it was removed, she could not hope to +build herself "an everlasting name." Ah, no! Godiva of Hendrik may +not live in any "city's ancient legend." This poor story must be all +her monument; let us lay the cap-stone, then. + + * * * * * + +All the angers of scorn in Hendrik were pointed at Miss Wimple; all +the sharp tongues of Hendrik hissed at her; and her good name fell +at once into the portion of the vilest weeds. Simon Blount saw and +heard, and his soul was sorely troubled. Like all _true_ love, loyal +and vigilant, his love for Sally was clear-sighted and sagacious. +Infatuation is either gross passion or pretence,--the flash and +bogus jewelry of the heart; but true love, though its eyes may ache +with the seeing, sees ever sharply. All beautiful examples teach +that the blindness of Love is not a parable, but an imposture; and +Simon saw that Sally was in a false position,--false to herself and +to him; for she denied him that confidence which he had a right to +share, sharing, as he did, all the scandal and the scorn; and in that, +she was unconsciously unjust. She denied herself the aid and comfort +of his tender counsel and his approbation, the protection of his +understanding and believing, when for him to understand and believe +was for her to be safe and bold. For even the pride of Sally Wimple, +overdone, could become arrogance; even her disinterestedness, +intemperately indulged in, could take on the form of selfishness. + +Simon went to Sally, and said: "Tell me what all this means." But +Sally, weak now in her very strength, said: "Nothing! Let my ways be +my own ways still; I alone am answerable for them. Is 'believing and +waiting' so hard to do? I did not send for you." + +Then Simon conceived a tremendous _coup de coeur_, a daring one +enough, as women go,--women of such stuff as the Sally Wimples of +this world are made of. He said, "I will try the old trick, the +foolish old trick that I always despised, but which must have +something sound in it, after all, since it has served the turn, +through all time, of people in my predicament." So Simon went over +(not with his heart,--trust him!--but with his legs) to Adelaide +Splurge. Miss Wimple, never guessing, saw him go, and made no sign, +though her heart fairly cracked: "He will return one day," she +thought; "if it be too late then, so much the better for him, perhaps." + +Of Adelaide, the town had begun, some time since, to say, that she +had tired of Philip Withers,--that she did not appreciate him, could +not understand him,--he was too deep for her. Foolish town! She had +only found him out, and learned to hate him as fiercely as she +despised him unutterably. She had truly loved the man, and her shrewd +heart had played the detective for his Madeline secret. + +For such a Fouche a slighter clue would have sufficed to lead to the +conviction of so besotted a traitor, than many an incautious hint of +his, and many a tale-telling vaunt of his irresistible egotism, +afforded her; for, like all the weak wretches of his sort, there was +not a more bungling lout, to try the patience of a clever man, than +Philip Withers, when his game lay between his safety and his vanity. + +To Adelaide's hand Simon Blount came timely and well-trained. At once +she set him on Withers, as one would hie on a good dog at a thief; +and it was not long before she had the pleasure of seeing the chase +brought to the ground. + +Withers had heard of a graceful neck, and white, dimpled shoulders, +at the Athenaeum; so accomplished a connoisseur as he must not let +them pass unappreciated. So he hastened to discharge his duty to +aesthetic society by honoring them with his admiration and exalting +patronage. On any transparent pretext,--the more transparent the +better, he thought, for the proprietress of the white shoulders and +the bewitching shape, who "no doubt understood,"--he dropped in +often at the little bookstore, to begin with a "how-do?" and +conclude with an "_au revoir_,"--the ineffable puppy! upon whose +vicious vanity the cold, still, statuesque scorn of Miss Wimple was +grandly lost. At last, at the Splurge house one evening, in the +presence of Adelaide and Simon, he was betrayed by his egotism into +boasting, by insinuation, of certain successes at the Circulating +Library most damaging to Miss Wimple's reputation for understanding +and good taste; he was "in her books," he said. + +An accordant glance passed between Adelaide and Simon. When Withers +retired, Simon followed him, and under Adelaide's window, and under +her eyes, he boxed the ears of Philip, the Debonair. After that, +Mr. Withers was discreeter. + +But Miss Wimple's trial was not yet at its worst. The low-necked +dress had been as unseasonable as the substitution of the hooped +skirt for the quilted petticoat was imprudent. Before Madeline had +been gone a week, she contracted, as was to be feared, a heavy cold, +which within a month assumed a chronic bronchial form, attended with +alarming symptoms. The extreme dejection of spirits, consequent upon +her persecuted loneliness, had predisposed her to disease in the +first place, and aggravated its character when it came. + +At last she fell dangerously ill, and with the closing of the +shop--for she could hire no one to attend in it--came poverty in its +most dreadful form. But for the charity of her kind physician, who +sent a servant-girl, a mere child, to nurse her, and daily kept her +supplied with proper nourishment from his own house, she would, so +it seemed to her, have died of neglect and starvation. Yet better, +she thought, to depart even so, than linger on, when such lingering +taxed the patience and the faith beyond the loftiest examples of +religion. Miss Wimple was too stout-hearted to cry for death, though +she felt, that, having lived with heroism, she could at least die +with presence of mind. She waited, with a composure that had a +strange quality of pride. + +In her New York home, Mrs. Morris, the governess, was as happy as +she dared to feel. In Mr. Osgood's family she had found all things +as Miss Wimple had promised. Treated with studious deference and +consideration, not unmixed with affection, she enjoyed for her +secret thoughts the most privileged privacy. Her brave gratitude was +superior to the distress a weaker woman might have suffered from the +necessity of making Mr. Osgood unreservedly acquainted with her story, +in order to enlist his aid to procure tidings of Miss Wimple, whose +safety, health, and happiness were now far dearer to her than her own. + +She did tell him all, and had reason to thank God for the courage +that made it a possible, even an easy, thing for her to do. Her +truly noble benefactor and protector, receiving her communication as +if he then heard it for the first time, assured her that in thus +confiding in the freedom of his mind, and in his honor, she had set +up a new and stronger claim to his interest and friendly care. She +had but enlarged his obligation to his until then unknown +correspondent for having given his children, to whom their governess +had already truly endeared herself, so admirable a teacher, so +precious a friend. + +["But why," you will ask, "did not Madeline write to Miss Wimple?" +Because that provident angel had, without explanation, exacted from +her a promise that she would in no case write _first_. In truth, +Miss Wimple foresaw her own various suffering, and sought to spare +Madeline some cruel pangs, and herself the hard trial of disingenuous +correspondence.] + +And Mr. Osgood would have started at once for Hendrik, where he was +not personally known to any one, to procure tidings of Miss Wimple +and allay the anxiety of Mrs. Morris, had Madeline not found, that +very day, her name in the _Herald's_ list of letters waiting to be +called for in the New York Post-Office. That letter was, indeed, for +Madeline, and its contents were as follows:-- + +"To Miss MADELINE SPLURGE,--Miss Wimple, of Hendrik, is very ill, and +poor, and friendless. It has been suggested to the writer of this +that you can help her. If you can, and will, there is no time to lose. +A FRIEND." + +The "friend" was Simon Blount. Ever since the Athenaeum was closed, +he had hung anxiously about the place, frequently dropping in upon +the neighbors to ask--quite by-the-byishly, and by chance, it seemed +to them--after the health of Miss Wimple; and sometimes he waylaid +the little servant, as she passed to and fro between the bookstore +and the doctor's residence, and plied her with questions. On such +occasions he was sure to make the little maid the depository of certain +silver secrets, which forthwith she revealed to Miss Wimple in the +shape of whole basketfuls of comfortable stuff, "from the Doctor." +Adelaide had given the hint for this letter. Calling at the Athenaeum +one day, about a fortnight after Madeline's departure, her quick eye +caught sight of a bit of paper lying on the counter, whereon was +freshly written, "Madeline Splurge." Miss Wimple had been entering +some trifling charge in the course of her small book-keeping, and, +still dallying with the pen, a passing thought, less idle than +anxious, had traced the name. On that slight foundation Adelaide had +built a happy guess, though Simon knew it not,--and though he +accepted her suggestion, it amazed him. + +Let us lift the curtain now, on the last, an extraordinary, _tableau_. +In the Wimple nest a strange company are met at the bidding of +Madeline Splurge, who couches a flashing lance for the life and the +honor of her benefactress. + +Proudly, condescendingly, haughtily superior to the least sparing of +herself,--as one who stooped at the bidding of Duty,--she had told +her story, from first to last, omitting nothing; with head erect, +pale lips, and flashing eyes,--with a passing flush, perhaps, at the +more shameful passages, but with no faltering, no dodging, no +self-excusing, no beseeching,--scornfully when she spoke of home, and +the beginning of the end,--redly, hatefully, wickedly dangerous, +when Philip Withers came on the scene,--with tremulous lips and the +low tones of Gratitude's most moving eloquence for the story of +Miss Wimple and her sublimely simple sacrifice,--modestly and with +grateful deference, at the mention of Mr. Osgood and his rare +chivalry. + +Then, taking from her bosom a small morocco pocket-book, and from +the pocket-book a card, she said,-- + +"And now to toss that _thing_ to the geese of Hendrik! Read that, +slowly, distinctly, that all may hear!"--and she placed the card in +Simon's hand, who ran his eye over it for a moment, then stood up, +and read:-- + +"MADELINE,--For God's sake be merciful, be reasonable! I will comply +with your hardest terms,--I will share all I possess with you, +[Adelaide smiled,]--I will even marry you after a time; but do not, +I implore you, in your recklessness, involve me in your unnecessary +ruin; do not fling me under the playful feet of that ingenious shrew +Adelaide. Meet me at the bridge tonight, in memory of our dear old +love." + +"P.W." + +When Simon had read the card, he let it fall on the floor, with a +gesture of disgust, and, without looking at Withers, who slunk, +pitifully wilted, into a corner, returned to his place on a low stool, +where he resumed his former attitude, holding the hand of Sally +Wimple, who now, with closed eyes, reclined on Madeline's bosom, +--that bosom that was, for her weariness, the type of the complete +rest that crowns and blesses a brave struggle,--of that +all-for-the-best-ness that comes of the heart's clearings-up. Only +Adelaide broke the silence; with her gaze fixed full on Withers, and +a triumphant sneer crowning her happy lips, she uttered one word by +way of chorus,--"Joseph!" + +At that word a faint flush flitted athwart the cheeks of Madeline, +and she moved as if uneasy; but she did not speak again, nor turn +her eyes to any face but Miss Wimple's. + +Josephine Splurge was there; but, perceiving no opening that she +could fill to advantage with a delightful quotation, and having no +pickle at hand whereto she might give all her mind, she supported a +graceful silence with back hair and an attitude. + +Mrs. Splurge was there,--and that was all. Not clearly understanding what +she was called upon to say or do under the circumstances, nor prepared +to take the responsibility of saying or doing anything without being +called upon, she said and did nothing at all. Mrs. Splurge, who had had +some experience in that wise, had never been of so little consequence +before. + +Near the head of the bed, his looks directed toward Miss Wimple with +an expression of benevolent solicitude, sat a gentleman of middle age, +rather handsome, his hair inclined to gray, his attire fine, but +studiously simple. + +"Mrs. Morris," he said, "may I be permitted to speak a word here?" + +"Surely, Mr. Osgood." + +"Then, ladies and gentlemen, since doubtless we understand each +other by this time, I think it advisable that we retire, and leave +Miss Wimple to much-needed repose." + +All arose and passed out, Mrs. Splurge leading the way, Mr. Osgood +holding the door. Last of all, and with a pitiful shyness, as if +dodging some fresh discomfiture and exposure, came Philip Withers. + +"The door is at your service, Sir," said Mr. Osgood, as he passed; +"to be sure, the window were more appropriate for your passage; but +to attach importance to your existence by suddenly endangering it is +an honor I am not prepared to pay you." + +Madeline remained with Miss Wimple. + + +Now Miss Wimple is Simon Blount's wife, and they live with his mother. +The debt of the Athenaeum is paid. + +Adelaide abides at the Splurge house,--a reserved, bitter, +forbidding woman. + +Mrs. Splurge still lives; but that is of as little consequence as +ever. + +I assert it for an astonishing fact,--Philip Withers married +Josephine! Truly, the ways of Providence are as just as they are +inscrutable. The meanness of Withers, mated to the selfish, helpless, +peevish stupidity of Josephine, made an ingenious retribution. + +When I was at the opera, a few nights since, I saw in a private box +a benevolent-looking gentleman of middle age, evidently well-born +and accustomed to wealth. He was accompanied by a lady in elegant +mourning,--a lady of decided beauty and distinguished appearance. + +Miss Flora McFlimsey was there:--"That," said she, "is Mrs. Morris, +of Fourteenth Street,--a mysterious governess in the family of +Mr. Osgood; and the gentleman is Mr. Osgood." + + + + +NATURE AND THE PHILOSOPHER. + + + What dost thou here, pale chemist, with thy brow + Knotted with pains of thought, nigh hump-backed o'er + Thy alembics and thy stills? These garden-flowers, + Whose perfumes spice the balmy summer-air, + Teach us as well as thee. Thou dost condense + Healthy aromas into poison-drops, + Narcotic drugs of dangerous strength and power,-- + And wines of paradise to thee become + Intoxicating essences of hell. + Cold crystallizer of the warm heaven's gold! + Thou rigorous analyst! thou subtile brain! + Gathering thought's sunshine to a focus heat + That blinds and burns and maddens! What, my friend! + Are we, then, salamanders? Do we live + A charmed life? Do gases feed like air? + Pray you, pack up your crucibles and go! + Your statements are too awfully abstract; + Your logic strikes too near our warm tap-roots: + We shall breathe freer in our natural air + Of common sense. What are your gallipots + And Latin labels to this fresh bouquet?-- + Friend, 'tis a pure June morning. Ask the bees, + The butterflies, the birds, the little girls. + We are after flowers. You are after--what? + Aconite, hellebore, pulsatilla, rheum. + Take them and go! and take your burning lens! + We dare not bask in the sun's genial beams + Drawn to that spear-like point. Truth comes and goes, + Life-giving in diffusion. Nature flows, extends, + And veils us with herself,--herself God's veil. + But you persist in opening your bladders, + And the three gases that compose the air + You bid us take a breath of, one by one. + For Mother Nature you should have respect: + She does not like these teasings and these jokes. + Philosopher you seem; you'd state all fair; + You would go deep and broad. You're right; but then + Forget not there's an outer to your inner,-- + A whole that binds your parts,--a truth for man + As well as chemist,--and your lecture-room, + With magic vials and quaint essences + And odors strange, may teach your students less + Than this June morning, with the sun and flowers. + + + + +THOMAS JEFFERSON.[1] + +The biography before us is so voluminous that it can hardly maintain +the popularity to which its subject entitles it. He must be a bold +man, and to some degree forgetful of the brevity of life, who, for +any ordinary purpose of information or amusement, undertakes to read +these huge octavos. True, the theme is somewhat extended; +Jefferson's life was a protracted and busy one; he took a leading +part in complicated transactions, and promulgated doctrines which +cannot be summarily discussed. But the author's prolixity has not +grown out of the extent of his theme alone. He is both diffuse and +digressive. He introduces much irrelevant matter, and tells +everything in a round-about-way. By a judicious exercise of the arts +of elimination and compression, we think that all which illustrates +the subject might have been comprised in one volume much smaller +than the smallest of these. + +But Mr. Randall's most serious fault arises from his desire to be +thought a fine writer. Without making long extracts, it is +impossible to give any conception of the absurdities into which this +childish ambition has led him. The tropes and metaphors, the tawdry +tinsel, the common tricks of feeble rhetoricians are reproduced here +as if they were the highest results of rhetorical art. The display is +often amusing. Thus, in describing Mrs. John Adams, Mr. Randall says: +"Her lofty lineaments carried a trace of the Puritan severity. They +were those of the helmed Minerva, and not of the cestus-girdled Venus." +We do not mention this in order to justify a strain of captious +criticism, but to ask Mr. Randall, in all seriousness, how it was +possible for him to associate a staid and sensible New England +matron with Venus and Minerva? What would he say of a writer who +should gravely tell us that Washington's features were those of the +cloud-compelling Jupiter, not of Mars, slayer of men,--and that +Franklin's countenance resembled that of the wily Ulysses, not that +of the far-ruling Agamemnon? We might fill this paper with passages +like the one we have quoted. What is the use of this kind of writing? +It does not convey any meaning; there is no beauty in it; it +increases the size and price of books; it corrupts the taste of the +young, is offensive to persons of good sense, and mortifying to +those who take pride in the literary reputation of their country. It +is the bane of our literature. Many of our prose-writers constantly +put language upon paper the use of which in ordinary life would be +received by a court as evidence of insanity. If they do so for +display, they take the readiest course to defeat their purpose. There +is nothing so fascinating as simplicity and earnestness. A writer +who has an object, and goes right on to accomplish it, will compel +the attention of his readers. But it seems, that in art, as well as +in morals and politics, the plainest truths are the last to be +understood. + +We make these strictures with reluctance. This biography, in many +respects, is valuable, and Mr. Randall might easily have made it +interesting. He had a subject worthy of any pen, and an abundance of +new material. He does not lack skill. His unstudied passages, though +never elegant, are well enough. He is industrious. Though we must +dissent from some of his conclusions, he is entitled to the praise +of being accurate, and is free from prejudice,--except that amiable +prejudice which has been well called the _lues Boswelliana_.[1] +His delineations of famous personages, though marked by the faults of +which we have spoken, show quite unusual perception of character. He +has a thorough appreciation of Jefferson's noblest characteristics, +and an honorable sympathy with the philosophy of which Jefferson was +a teacher. + +[Footnote 1: _The Life of Thomas Jefferson_. By HENRY S. RANDALL, LL. +D. In three volumes. New York: Derby & Jackson. 1858.] + +With resources and qualifications like these, he might have produced +a biography which the country would have received with gratitude, +and which would have conferred an enviable reputation upon him; as +it is, through his neglect of a few wholesome rules which he must +have learned when a school-boy, the years of labor he has spent over +this book will go for nothing, and the hopes he has built upon it +will be disappointed. + +There is much conflict of opinion as to the character of Jefferson, +and the value of his services. We doubt whether there is another +person in our history, as to whom there still exists so strong a +feeling of dislike on the one hand, and of admiration on the other. +By some he is regarded as a theorist and a demagogue, who, for +selfish purposes, opposed the purest patriots, and disseminated +doctrines which will pervert our institutions and destroy our social +fabric; by others he is revered as the philosopher who first +asserted the rights of man, and the statesman who first defined the +functions of our government and demonstrated the principles upon +which it should he administered. His detractors and admirers both +bear witness to the extent and permanency of his influence. He saw +all the phases of our national life. He assisted in the struggle for +liberty, and in the contest which gave form to that liberty,--while +it was his happy fortune to inaugurate the system by which, with +occasional deviations, the republic, for more than fifty years, has +been governed. He heard the discussion of the Stamp Act, and the +debate on the admission of Missouri. He shared in the dispute which +the establishment of the Constitution produced, and lived to witness +the outbreak of the quarrel which now threatens the existence of the +Constitution. His influence was felt through the whole of this long +period. Nor was it confined to affairs alone. He took part in all +the intellectual action of his countrymen. He was an adept in science, +an ingenious mechanic, and a contributor to literature. He stimulated +adventure, and was the judicious patron of architecture and the fine +arts. More than any man of his day, to the labors of a practical +statesman he brought a mind disciplined by a liberal philosophy; and +he adorned the most exalted stations with the graceful fame of +learning and polite accomplishments. It is impossible for us to +touch every point of his great career. It is difficult to dwell upon +a single point without being seduced into a discussion too extended +for these pages. We may, however, be permitted, in a rapid manner, +to present Mr. Jefferson in some of those relations which seem to us +to throw the strongest light upon his character and teachings. + +Peter Jefferson, the father of Thomas, was a notable man. His +parents were poor, and in early life he went into the backwoods of +Virginia as a surveyor. He is described as a person of great stature +and strength. His mind was equally robust. He was a natural +mathematician, and was remarkable for hardihood and perseverance. +His temper was equable, but his passions were strong and his anger +terrible. In youth his education had been neglected; but, by the +wise employment of his leisure, he obtained considerable reputation +for learning throughout the rude region where he lived. This huge +man, with gigantic strength and fierce passions, is said to have +been endowed with tender sympathies, and to have had a scholar's love +for Shakspeare and Addison. + +Social distinctions were strictly observed at that day, but Peter +Jefferson broke through them and married a daughter of the Randolph +family. + +Thomas, the third child and oldest son of this marriage, was born at +Shadwell, his father's estate, on the 2d of April, 1743. The +characteristics of the sire descended to the son, the physical +attributes in milder, and the intellectual in more active forms. +Like many men of his class, Peter Jefferson had perhaps an undue +sense of the obstacles he had encountered through lack of education, +and was careful to provide for that of his children. As soon as +possible, Thomas was sent to school, and when nine years old, under +the tuition of a Scottish clergyman, he was introduced to the study +of Latin, Greek, and French. His father died when he was fourteen +years old, leaving a considerable estate, and particular directions +that Thomas should receive a thorough classical training. The +executor had some doubt as to whether it would be prudent to send +the lad to college in obedience to the paternal request; whereupon +Thomas addressed him in a little argument, which is a curious +exhibition of the proclivities of his mind. In the mathematical +manner which afterwards became common with him, he urged that at +home he would lose one fourth of his time on account of the company +which was attracted by his presence, and that entertaining so many +guests would be a heavier charge upon the estate than the expense of +his residence at Williamsburg. + +The young disputant prevailed, and, in 1760, he was sent to William +and Mary College. He remained there two years. His acquirements, +during this time, though probably not so great as Mr. Randall would +have us believe, must have been large. He had equal aptitude for the +classics and mathematics. In the latter his proficiency was +remarkable, and he always retained his taste for it. Though never a +critical classical scholar, he could read Latin with ease. He was +conversant with French, and had some familiarity with Greek. In +later life he studied Anglo-Saxon and Italian. But Jefferson +terminated his collegiate course with a possession far more valuable +than all the learning he could gather in the narrow curriculum of a +colonial college; study had excited in him that eager thirst for +knowledge which is an appetite of the mind almost as unconquerable +as the appetites of the body. + +After leaving college, he remained at Williamsburg, and entered the +office of Mr. Wyeth, a leader at the Virginia bar. Williamsburg was +the capital and the centre of the most refined society of the +province. Francis Fauquier was governor. He was an Englishman, of +distinguished family, who had lost a large property in a single +night's play, and had taken the appointment to Virginia to repair +his fortunes. To some of the vices and most of the accomplishments +of a man of the world he added fine talents and many solid +attainments. He was, withal, a skilful musician and a fascinating +conversationist. Mr. Wyeth, and Dr. Small, professor of mathematics +at the college, were in the habit of dining with the governor at +stated times, for the purpose of conversation. Jefferson, though not +yet twenty years old, was admitted to these parties. Fauquier +organized a musical society, and Jefferson, who played upon the +violin, belonged to this likewise. In these associations, the young +student acquired the easy courtesy and conversational art which +afterwards greatly contributed to his success, and distinguished him +even among the gentlemen of Paris. + +His life, between twenty and thirty, was judiciously employed. A +closer student could hardly have been found at Edinburgh or +Heidelberg. He pursued his profession persistently, and, in addition, +made incursions into the fields of _belles-lettres_ and political +and physical science. He early conceived a prejudice against +metaphysical speculation, which was never removed. We cannot believe +that his partiality for romance was much greater. He undoubtedly had +that appreciation of the value of this department of letters which +every man of sense has, and included it within the circle of his +reading because it contains much desirable knowledge. The severest +criticism which can be made upon his taste for poetry is conveyed by +the statement, that, when young, he admired Ossian, and, when old, +admired Moore. + +His summers were spent at Shadwell. The responsible charge of a +large estate rested upon him, and he introduced into his affairs and +studies the extraordinary system which, through life, he carried +into all matters, great or small. He commenced keeping a garden-book, +which, with interruptions caused by absence, was continued until he +was eighty-one years old. It contains memoranda of vegetable phenomena, +and statements of all kinds of information, in any way affecting the +economy of horticulture. He likewise kept a farm-book. His accounts +were noted, without the loss of a day, through his entire life, and +every item of personal expense was separately stated. We often find +entries like these: "11 d. paid to the barber,"--"4 d. for whetting +penknife,"--and "1s. put in the church-box." On the 4th of July, 1776, +we find:--"pd. Sparhawk, for a thermometer, L3 15s.--pd. for 7 prs. +women's gloves, 27s.--gave, in charity, 1s. 6d." His meteorological +register informs us, that, at 6 o'clock, A.M., of the same +memorable day, the mercury stood 68 deg. above; at noon, at 76 deg.; and at 9, +P.M., at 73-1/2 deg.. Entries were regularly made in this register, +three times a day. Separate books were kept for special accounts, +like the expenses of the Presidential mansion. In addition, he made +minute records of observation in natural history, and a curious +"Statement of the Vegetable Market of Washington, during a Period of +Eight Years, wherein the Earliest and Latest Appearance of each +Article, within the whole Eight Years, is noted." This table mentions +_thirty-seven_ different articles, and was compiled during his +Presidency. He made a collection of the vocabularies of fifty Indian +languages, and two collocations of those passages in the New +Testament which contain the doctrines of Jesus. One of these, +entitled, "The Life and Morals of Jesus of Nazareth," is an octavo +volume, with a complete index. The texts are written out in Greek, +Latin, French, and English, and placed in parallel columns. + +Mr. Randall makes a long argument to defend Jefferson from the common +imputation, that a man who was so fond of detail could not have had +much capacity for higher effort. It was hardly worth while to expose +a delusion which is so apparent, especially in the case of Jefferson. +Men are often seen with great aptitude for the accumulation of facts, +and none for the comprehension of principles. Such men, though never +great, are always useful. But the most useless and unfortunate +organization is that quite common one, where a speculative mind is +found which has not sufficient energy to lay hold of details. These +philosophers, as the foolish call them, are the ingenious contrivers +of the impracticable reforms, the crazy enterprises, and the +numberless panaceas for all human ills, which are constantly urged +upon the public, and which, under the name of progress, are the most +serious obstacles to progress. Both faculties are necessary to one +who undertakes high and useful action. Mr. Jefferson was a +philosopher because he was a constant and accurate observer; he was +correct in his generalizations because he was so in matters of detail. + +His career at the bar was short. The acquisition of a science like +the law was an easy task for a mind so ingenious and active as his. +He had no talent as an advocate, but was at once successful in the +more retired and not less difficult departments of the profession. +During seven years' practice, his income averaged three thousand +dollars a year;--a large sum then, and no mean reward at the present +day. + +When twenty-nine years old, he married Mrs. Martha Skelton, a young +and childless widow, of great beauty. In relation to this affair +a pleasant anecdote is told. Mr. Jefferson had a number of rivals. +Two of these gentlemen met, one evening, in the drawing-room of +Mrs. Skelton's house. While waiting for her to enter, they heard her +singing in an adjoining room, and Jefferson playing an accompaniment +upon the violin. There was something in the burden of the air, and +in the expression with which the performers rendered it, which +conveyed unpleasant suggestions; and the two suitors, after +listening awhile, departed without seeing the lady. The inevitable +account-book mentions the sums paid to the clergyman, fiddlers, and +servants, on the occasion of the marriage. + +His wife's fortune, as he informs us, doubled his own, and placed +him in a position of pecuniary independence. He soon abandoned his +profession, and thenceforward his career was a public one. He +entered political life at the time when it first became evident that +a war with England must occur, and threw himself into the extreme +party. He was admirably fitted for success in a legislative body. +His talents were deliberative, rather than executive. He had no power +in debate, but he possessed qualities which we believe are more +uniformly influential in a public assemblage,--tact, industry, a +conciliatory disposition, and systematic habits of thought. He was +always familiar with the details of legislation. The majority of the +members of a legislature can seldom know much about its business. +Those questions which excite popular attention and become party +tests are inquired into; but most matters attract no attention and +are not party tests. Only a few men of great industry and rare +powers are familiar with these. In the British House of Commons, it +is said, there are not more than thirty or forty such members. In +either branch of our Congress the proportion is no larger. It is a +great power to know that which others find it necessary to know; and +if to this information one adds good judgment and a persuasive +intellect, his influence will be almost unbounded. Young as he was, +no one could approach Jefferson without seeing that he had read and +thought much. While most of his comrades in Virginia had been +wasting their youth in horse-racing and cock-fighting, he had been an +enthusiastic student of books and Nature. Upon all subjects likely +to excite inquiry his knowledge was full and precise, and his +opinions those of a sagacious and philosophic mind. His manners were +attractive; he never engaged in dispute; he expressed himself freely +to those who sought his society for information or an intelligent +comparison of opinion; but his lips were closed in the presence of a +disputant. The patience with which he listened to others, and the +modest candor with which he expressed himself, usually disarmed the +contentions; when they did not, he went no farther. If his views +were false, he did not wish them to prevail; if they were true, he +felt certain that sooner or later they would prevail. A temperament +like this might have placed a less firm man under the imputation of +disingenuousness; but such an imputation could not rest upon him. No +one was in doubt as to his opinions. He generally anticipated inquiry, +and selected his ground before others saw that action would be +necessary. There were capable lawyers and men of wide experience in +our Revolutionary legislatures, but there was no one whose influence +was more powerful and felt upon a greater variety of subjects than +that of Jefferson. + +He might, however, have possessed all of these characteristics, and +enjoyed the consideration among his fellow-legislators which they +confer, without being well known to the public, if he had not united +to them the ability to write elegant and forcible English. The +circumstances of the time made literary talents unusually valuable. +The daily press has driven the essayist out of the political field. +But for several generations elaborate disquisitions upon politics +had been usual in England; in this regard pamphlets then occupied +the place of our newspapers. Bolingbroke, Swift, Johnson, and Burke, +all the serious and some of the gay writers, acquired repute by this +kind of effort. Neither were the speeches of leading men circulated +then as at present. At the time of the Revolution, an oration never +reached those who did not hear it. This gave a great advantage to +the writer. The pamphlets of Otis and Thomas Paine were read by +multitudes who never heard a word of the eloquence of Henry and Adams. +A high standard of taste had been created, and success in political +dissertation was difficult, but, when obtained, it was of +proportionate value, and the source of wide and permanent influence. +Jefferson found a function requiring much the same talents with that +of the pamphleteer, but possessing some advantages over it. The only +means which the Continental Congress and the colonial legislatures +had of communicating with their constituents and the mother country +was by formal addresses. These documents were arguments upon public +questions, possessing the force which an argument always has when it +is the expression of great numbers of minds. An audience was certain. +At home they were sure to be read, and in England they attracted the +attention of every one connected with affairs. Jefferson's literary +talents were soon discovered. One successful performance in the +Virginia House of Delegates established a reputation which the +Declaration of Independence has made immortal. + +In every point of view, Jefferson is entitled to a high place in +American literature. As a mere rhetorician, he has few equals; as a +political writer, not more than two or three. An adherence to +logical forms and the use of mathematical illustrations are his most +noticeable faults. But they are not found in his more elaborate +performances. He has the supreme merit of perfect clearness, +naturalness, and grace of expression. Though never eloquent, he +sometimes rises to an earnest and dignified declamation. Not +infrequently he has achieved the highest success, and clothed +valuable thought in language so appropriate, that the phrases have +passed into the national vocabulary and become popular catchwords. +His first inaugural address contains more of those expressions which +are daily heard in our political discussions than any other American +composition. There has been some speculation as to how it was +possible for a gentleman, with no other discipline than that afforded +by a colonial establishment, to obtain a mastery over so difficult +an art. There is little reason for surprise. Jefferson's training +had been good; he was familiar with the best models; above all, +Nature had given him the qualities which, with the requisite +knowledge, insure literary success,--good sense, good taste, and an +ear sensitive to the melody of prose. + +We do not propose to follow Jefferson throughout his political career. +As to his Revolutionary services there is little difference of +opinion. His course during the administrations of Washington and +Adams has given occasion to most of the criticism which he has +encountered. We will direct our attention chiefly to that period of +his life. He appeared then as the leader of a party which was intent +upon carrying certain principles into operation, and for a +comprehension of his conduct an examination of those principles is +necessary. + +Mr. Randall would have done a good service, if he had made a brief +analysis of Jefferson's political system. It affords a fine theme +and is much needed, because Jefferson himself left no systematic +exposition of his doctrines. They must be sought for through a large +number of state papers and a voluminous correspondence. Like all +public men, he has been misrepresented both by opponents and +adherents. There is a vague impression abroad that he enunciated +certain liberal theories, that he was an ardent philanthropist, and +that his opinions were those which have prevailed among the modern +French philosophers; but the boundaries of his system do not seem to +be well defined in the public mind. His theory of politics may, with +sufficient accuracy, be said to be embraced in the following +propositions:--First. All men are politically equal. Second. A +representative government upon the basis of universal suffrage is +the direct result of that equality, and the surest means of +preserving it. Third. The sphere of government is limited, and its +action must be confined to that sphere. + +The first proposition is contained in the statement which occurs in +the Declaration of Independence, "that all men are created equal." +This remark has been severely criticized, and we think there has +been much confusion as to its meaning. Jefferson could not have +intended to say that all men are equal in the sense of being alike. +Such an assertion would be absurd. Undoubtedly he recognized, as +every one must, the infinite diversity and disparity of intellectual +and physical qualities. He was speaking of man in his social relations, +and in the same sentence he qualified the general assertion by +particularizing the respects as to which the quality exists,--saying, +that men "are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; +that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." +The equality of which he spoke does not consist in equal endowments, +but in equal rights,--in the right of each man to the enjoyment of his +individual gifts, whatever they may be. + +The proposition, that a representative government upon the basis of +universal suffrage is the direct result of man's equality and the +surest means of preserving it, opens a wide field for discussion, +into which we will not enter. It is not peculiar to Jefferson. We +must, however, remark, that he did not hold the extreme opinions +upon this subject which have been attributed to him. He thought that +popular institutions could be established, and the elective +franchise safely made universal, only in an intelligent and virtuous +community. In France he advised La Fayette and Barnave to be +contented with a constitutional monarchy. When the South American +States rebelled, and Clay and many other statesmen were enraptured +with the prospect of a Continent of Republics, Jefferson declared +that they were not prepared for republican governments, and could not +maintain them. At the same time, he was very far from thinking, as +some of our modern writers do, that men can become fit for freedom +by remaining slaves. + +The third proposition, that the sphere of government is limited and +its action should be confined to that sphere, is the one to the +illustration of which Mr. Jefferson specially devoted himself. Upon +his services in this respect rest his claims to consideration as a +political philosopher. + +It has been the custom to think that the government was the only +source of honor; it is still looked upon as the source of the +highest honor. By barbarians the monarch is deified. In many +civilized countries of our own time kings are said to rule by +special favor of the Deity; no one stands erect, no loud word is +spoken in their presence; and, indeed, everywhere they are +approached with a reverence so great that more could hardly be shown +to God himself. This homage is not given on account of eminent +personal attributes. These persons are well understood to be often +mean in mind and meaner in morals. The same feeling is shown towards +other high officials. To be in the public service is eagerly coveted; +such employment attracts the finest minds, and is most munificently +rewarded. It is so in this country. We are accustomed to confer upon +official characters honors which we would refuse to a Shakspeare or +a Newton. Yet it is well known, that, while the comprehension and +elucidation of the great laws which govern society are a labor which +will task the strength of the strongest, in ordinary times affairs +may be, and generally are, quite acceptably administered by men of +no marked intellectual superiority. It is not necessary to say that +the sentiment must be wrong which leads us to such strange errors, +--which obliterates the broadest distinctions, and persuades us to +give to feebleness and vice rewards which should be given to genius +and virtue alone. + +For the wisest purposes, the Creator has planted within us an +instinctive disposition to revere the illustrious of our kind. To +win that admiration is the most powerful incentive to action,--it is +the ardent desire of passionate natures. The sweet incense of +popular applause is more delicious than wine to the senses of man. +Deservedly obtained, it heals every wound, and soothes all pain; nay, +the mere hope of it will steel him against every danger, and sustain +him amidst disease, penury, neglect, and oppression. To bestow this +reverence is a pleasure hardly less exquisite. While we commune with +the intellects and contemplate the virtues of the great, some portion +of their exceeding light descends upon us, their aspiring spirits +enter our breasts and raise us to higher levels. But to yield our +homage to those who do not deserve it is to pervert a pure and noble +instinct. We cannot worship the degraded, except by sinking to lower +depths of degradation. + +When one considers that the admitted functions of government have +been almost without limit, this mistaken sentiment is not to be +wondered at. Why should not they who are able to provide for every +want of the body or soul be revered as Superior beings? Governments +have established creeds, and set bounds to science; they have been +the censors of literature, and held men in slavery; they have told +the citizen how many meals to eat, how many prayers to say, how to +wear his beard, and in what manner to educate his children; there is +no action so trivial, no concern so important, nor any sentiment so +secret, that the governing power has not interfered with and sought +to control it. This system has invariably failed; constantly coming +in contact with each man's sense of individuality, it has been the +prolific source of revolutions, despotisms, the ruin of states, the +extirpation of races,--and in its mildest forms, where life has been +preserved, everything which makes life desirable has been destroyed. +In most countries this system still exists to a great degree, nor is +there any country whence it is entirely eradicated. + +Seeing the constant and uniform occurrence of these evils, Mr. +Jefferson was led to believe that they were not caused by a +remediable imperfection in the existing system, but by radical +defects. He concluded that they were produced by an attempt on the +part of government to do what it could not,--that the power of +government was limited by absolute and inherent laws, like those +which limit the strength of man,--and that there were certain +functions belonging to government, in going beyond which it not only +failed of its purpose, but did positive harm. In this view, the +definition of these functions becomes a task of great difficulty and +involves the whole science of politics. We cannot follow his entire +line of argument, and without detail there is danger that our +statement will not be sufficiently qualified. His general theory, +however, is simple, and is drawn from his first proposition as to +the equal rights of man. He held that the object of society is the +preservation of these great rights. Since experience teaches us, that, +however incompetent we may be to decide upon the interests of others, +we are able to regulate our own, this social purpose will be best +accomplished by leaving to each one all the liberty consistent with +the general safety. Security, being the only common object, should +be the sole duty of the common agent. The government being confined +to the performance of this negative duty, it must not exercise its +power except when necessary. The inquiry, Is it necessary? not, Is +it advantageous? is the test to be applied to every measure. The +rigid application of this rule excludes the state from any +interference with commerce and industry,--from all matters of +religion and opinion,--and limits its financial operations to +providing in the most direct manner for its own support. But it is +to be noticed, that it is consistent with this scheme, and indeed +the fruit of it, that, in the sphere which it does occupy, the +government should be absolute. + +Mr. Jefferson formed the governmental machinery in strict accordance +with this principle. As many measures are necessary for one portion +of a community and not for another, he insisted that local affairs +should be placed in the hands of local authorities. The integrity of +his system depends not only upon the limitation of the governing +power, in a general sense, but as well upon the division and +dispersion of it. + +The principal exception which Jefferson made was in respect of +education. But, according to his view, this can hardly be regarded +as an exception. The general safety depends so directly upon that +recognition of mutual rights which is not to be found except among +intelligent men, that he advised the establishment, not only of +common schools, but likewise of colleges and schools of Art. + +To those who objected, that this system would limit the action and +decrease the splendor of a nation, Jefferson replied, that its +effects were quite the reverse. In proportion as a government +assumes the duties which ought to be performed by the citizen, it +acts as a check upon individual and national development. Under a +despotism, culture must be confined to a few, nor can there be much +variety of effort and production. Under a government which is +confined to its proper field, the talents of each man may be freely +used, and he will not be forced into relations for which he is +unsuited. The absurd prejudice, that public employment is the most +honorable, will pass away. The man of letters and the man of science, +the poet, the artist, and the inventor, the financier, the navigator, +the merchant, every one who performs beneficial service and displays +great qualities, will be rewarded. Every one who is conscious that +he possesses such qualities will be stimulated to strive for that +reward. This universal action will give birth to all the things which +adorn a state. Social disturbances will excite investigation, and +evils which governments have never been able to reach may be removed. +Competition will make the accumulation of large estates difficult, +property will be equalized, but no motive to effort destroyed. +Science will be encouraged. Every day will add to the number of +those contrivances which facilitate labor, increase production, +lessen distance, and raise man from the degradation of an existence +wholly occupied with providing for his physical wants. Under these +elastic laws, religion, philanthropy, art, learning, the social +amenities, the domestic influences, all humanizing agents, will have +opportunity and work harmoniously for the advancement of the race. + +It will be seen that Mr. Jefferson's political system was that which, +in the language of the modern schools, is called individual theory. +It has been said, that it is based upon too favorable an estimate of +human character, and that he obtained it from the French philosophers. + +It seems to us that the reproach of Utopian opinions may more justly +be thrown upon his opponents. The latter do not escape the evil from +which they fly. They proceed upon the belief that man is unfit for +self-government; but since every government is one of men, if he +cannot control himself, how shall he rule over others? Whatever may +be said about the superiority of men of genius, it is certain that +there never has existed an intellect capable of providing for all the +minute and varying necessities of each individual among many millions. +The history of legislation shows that the best-disciplined minds +find it difficult to devise a single statute affecting a single +interest which will be precise in its terms and equal in its +operation. These railers at the majority of their kind seem to expect +in the minority a greater than human perfection. Mr. Jefferson +proceeded upon a mere moderate estimate of the abilities, and a more +just appreciation of the weakness of men. It is _because_ we are +easily led astray and blinded by passion, that he thought us unfit +to govern others, and that we should limit our efforts to +self-government. His confidence in man was no greater than that +which is the foundation of Christianity. The whole Christian scheme +is one of the broadest democracy. The most important truths are +there submitted to the general judgment and conscience of mankind, +with no other recommendation than their value and the force of the +evidence by which they are attested. Can it be said that we are not +fit to decide upon a tax, yet are fit to decide our fate for all the +mysterious future? If Jefferson was an enthusiast, every clergyman +who calls his bearers to repentance must be mad. He did have confidence +in his fellows,--he did believe that we are not helpless slaves of sin, +that the evils which afflict us are not inevitable,--and that we have +power to lead lives of justice and virtue. Who will accuse him because +of this confidence? + +The charge of French principles originated in a political contest. +It was true in the narrow application which it had at first, but +false in that which was afterwards given to it. There is a marked +distinction between him and the politicians of France. Rousseau, +perhaps the ablest, certainly the most popular, of those who +preceded the Revolution, is an example. The _Contrat Social_ +constantly carries the idea, that the government is the seat of all +power and the source of all national action. No suggestion is made, +that there are individual functions with which the state cannot +interfere to advantage. The same opinions prevailed among the +Encyclopedists and Economists, they were announced by the Gironde +and the Mountain, and practically carried out by Robespierre and +Barras. The Girondists made cautious approaches towards federalism, +but one looks in vain through the speeches of Vergniaud for an +intimation of individualism. The modern _doctrinaires_ have retained +the same principles. Legitimists, Imperialists, Republicans, +Socialists, and Communists are all in favor of a centralized and +unlimited government. The last two classes wish to exercise the +governing power upon the minutest details of life,--to establish +public baths, shops, theatres, dwellings, to control the amusements +and direct the occupations of the citizen, and to divide his social +status by law. Comte himself, whose general system might be expected +to lead him to a different conclusion, outdoes them all, and proposes +to prescribe creeds, establish fasts, feasts, and forms of worship, +and even to name those who shall receive divine honors. There is no +trace here of that scrupulous regard for personal independence and +that invincible distrust of governmental action which characterized +Jefferson. It is true, he and the Gallic writers agreed upon certain +fundamental propositions; but they were peculiar neither to him nor +them. Some of the same principles were announced by Locke and +Beccaria, by Hobbes, who maintained the omnipotence of the state, +and by Grotius, who insisted upon the divine right of kings. To +agree with another upon certain matters does not make one his +disciple. No one mistakes the doctrines of Paul for those of Mohammed, +because both taught the immortality of the soul. To confound +Jefferson with Rousseau or Condorcet is about as reasonable as to +confound Luther with Loyola, or Ricardo with Jeremy Bentham. + +Although we deny that Jefferson was indebted to France for his +political system, it cannot be claimed that he was the author of it. +He himself used to assert, that the scheme of a limited and +decentralized government was produced by the events which caused the +settlement of the country and the subsequent union of the colonies. +The emigration to America was stimulated by the great Protestant and +Catholic dispute which occupied Europe nearly two centuries, and +during which time the original thirteen colonies were founded. The +sentiment of religious freedom was the active principle of all the +alliances, wars, intrigues, and adventures of that stormy period. +The rights of conscience were maintained, in defiance of the rack and +the stake. They were stubbornly asserted in regard to the smallest +matters. Lines of separation, so fine as hardly to be perceptible, +were defended to the last. The Catholic was not more irreconcilably +opposed to the Protestant, than the Lutheran to the Quaker, or the +Puritan to the Baptist. Men who differed merely about the meaning of +a single passage of Scripture thought each other unfit to sit at the +same table. The immigrants were exiles. By the conditions under +which they acted, as being from the defeated party, and as being +among those whom defeat did not subdue, they must have had the +enthusiasm of their time in its most earnest form. Each man came +here intent upon his right to worship God in his own way. _That_ he +could never forget. It had been impressed upon him by everything which +can affect the understanding or touch the heart of man,--by the memory +of success and defeat,--by his own sufferings and the martyrdom of +his brethren,--by Bunyan's fable and by Milton's song. + +But they did not lack bigotry. They were as ready to persecute those +who differed with them here as they had been at home. The last and +greatest social truth, that the surest way of protecting our own +liberties is by respecting those of others, was forced upon the +colonists. So general had been the stimulants to emigration, that +every European sect and party was represented in America. Hither +came Calvinists and Lutherans, Cavaliers and Roundheads, Conformists +and Non-Conformists, the precise Quaker and the elegant Huguenot, +those who fled from the tyranny of Louis and those who fled from the +tyranny of Charles, worshippers of the Virgin and men who believed +that to kneel before a crucifix was as idolatrous as to kneel before +the seven-headed idols of Hindostan. These sects and parties were so +equally balanced that toleration became a necessity. Seeing that +they could not oppress, men were led to think oppression wrong, and +toleration was exalted to a virtue. The theocratic spirit which +prevailed at first passed away, and the great principle was +established that governments have nothing to do with religion. It +does not require much penetration to discover that a government +which has unlimited power over the person and property of the +citizen will not long respect the scruples of his conscience. +Religious liberty gave birth to political freedom. The separation of +the settlements from each other, even in the same establishment, made +local provisions necessary for defence, and for the transaction of +local business, and led to the division of the government. + +When united action was necessary, the colonies did not attempt to +reconcile their differences; they made a union for those purposes +which were common to all. The general principles which were asserted +during the Revolution were logical necessities of that event. It was +a rebellion against an unjust exercise of power. Why unjust? For no +other reason than because the Americans had an equal right with +Englishmen to govern themselves. But that right must be one which +was common to all men. The rebels knew this. They did not follow +Burke through his labored argument to prove that the measures of the +British ministry were inexpedient. They could not defend their +conduct before the world upon the narrow ground of a violation of the +relations between a dependency and its mother country. Those +relations were not understood, and such a defence would not have +been listened to. They appealed at once to the laws of God, and for +their justification addressed those universal human instincts which +give us our ideas of national and individual freedom. The +declaration that men are created equal excited no surprise _then_. +They believed it without a thought that it had entered the mind of a +fantastic recluse in the retirement of _l'Hermitage_, and, in +obedience to that belief, they severed the ties of tradition and +kindred, exposed their homes and the lives of those whose lives were +dearer to them than their own to the rage of civil war, and placed +all they hoped for and everything they loved upon the perilous +hazard of the sword. + +At such a time Jefferson was led to the pursuit of politics. He was +not in the situation of one who, in disgust at the misery which +surrounds him, retires to his study, and, from the impulses of a +kind heart, the dreams of poets, and the speculations of philosophers, +fashions a society in which there is neither envy, anger, ambition, +nor avarice, but where, amid Arcadian joys, all men live in peace +and happiness. He was compelled to think because he had need to act, +--to make real laws for real societies. To do this, he did not +meditate upon human frailty and perfectibility; he did not attempt +to frame institutions carefully graduated to suit the dissimilar +dispositions, faculties, and desires of men. In the spirit with +which he had observed the phenomena of Nature in order to discover +the laws which produced them, he inspected the social phenomena of +his country to learn the laws by which it might be governed. He +studied the processes by which a few hamlets, hastily built upon a +savage shore, had grown into powerful communities,--by which the +heirs to centuries of bitter recollections had been made to forget +the jealousies of race, the enmities of party, the bad hatred of sect, +and united into one brotherhood for the accomplishment of a common +and noble purpose. He took man as he found him, and believed he could +govern himself because he had done so. He endeavored to give +symmetry to the system which was already established. It is not +strange that in this way he arrived at rules of policy, and assisted +to put in operation a government, more perfectly adapted to our wants, +more nicely adjusted to our strength and our weakness, giving freer +opportunity to individual effort, and more firmly establishing +national prosperity, better able to resist sedition or foreign +assault, than any which painful toil has created, or the imaginations +of the benevolent conceived, from the days of Plato to those of +Fourier. + +In our next number we shall allude to certain questions, raised by +Mr. Randall's book, connected with the early politics of the country; +and we shall likewise undertake the more pleasing task of describing +the domestic life and the character of Jefferson. + + + + * * * * * + + + + +A PRISONER OF WAR. + + +Ruegen is a small island, and its chief town is named Ruegen also. +They are both part of Prussia, as they were in 1807, when Prussia +and France were at war. At that time Herr Grosshet was burgomaster, +and a very important burgomaster, it should be understood,--taking +in proof thereof Herr Grosshet's own opinion on the subject. +According to the same high authority the burgomaster was also +wondrously sharp; and the consequence of the burgomaster's sharpness +was, that an amount of smuggling went on in the town which was +simply audacious. None knew better than the burgomaster that the +smuggling was audacious; scarcely a shopkeeper he knew, but laughed +to his nose; but his dignity was so great, and he had made the +central authority believe so strongly in him, that he could not lay +a complaint; and the consequence of _that_ was, that, though the +townspeople laughed at their mayor, they would not have parted with +him on any account. Not a soul in the town but knew of the smuggling, +--not a soul who, publicly, was in the least aware of that illegality. + +Bertha, as she was commonly called, did not positively belong to the +town, but she had lived in it for sixteen years,--at the beginning +of which time a very great commotion was created by her discovery, +at the age of three, sitting staring on the sea-beach. + +She was adopted by the town generally; for there were kind hearts in +it,--as most towns have, for that matter; but she was specially +adopted by Frau Klass, who took her home and straightway reared her, +under the name of Bertha,--for the reason that she had once had a +daughter with that name. The new Bertha in time met with a proposal +from a flaxen-haired young sailor named Daniel, who left Ruegen the +next day with a considerably lightened heart. When the foundling had +reached nineteen, three things had happened:--Dan had been away three +years, and the town had given him up forever; Bertha's mother was +no more; and Bertha rather found it her duty to submit to be married +to the most odious of his sex, Jodoque by name,--a man who was detested +by no one more heartily than by Bertha herself. + +I say Bertha found it her duty to be married, and thus:--Frau Klass +called Jodoque her nephew, and tried to justify a testament in +Bertha's favor by suggesting to her the compensation to her nephew +of marrying him. Thus Frau Klass tried to follow both her inclination +and her duty, and died serenely at a great age,--assuring Bertha +with her last breath that Daniel must be dead, and that Jodoque was +an admirable youth, when known, and not at all poor. + +So Bertha came into possession of a little farm and a little house. +_She_ tried to reconcile duty with inclination by suggesting to +Jodoque the propriety of waiting; and he _had_ waited, till he began +to question the probability of his ever entering upon the tenancy of +his late aunt's farm. + +But Bertha at last yielded a consent; and the entire town, ever +bearing in mind its universal parentage of Bertha, determined to go +to great lengths of rejoicing on the wedding-day; and the burgomaster, +a fool and a good man, was certainly not indifferent. + +I have said France and Prussia were at war at this time; and, indeed, +there were a score of young French prisoners at the fort,--or rather, +nineteen, for one got away the very day before that mentioned as +Bertha's wedding-day. Two hours after his escape he was kissing the +hand of Bertha herself, who had promised him her protection, and +hidden him in Frau Klass's own dark room. + +Bertha had served the young Frenchman--who shall be called Max--with +his breakfast, and was sitting in her porch, wondering about a good +many things, when Herr Jodoque arrived. She was thinking how she +should get the prisoner away,--what would be said of her, if found +out,--how decidedly odious Jodoque was,--how handsome the Frenchman +was,--and how she thought he was better-looking even than Daniel, +the sailor who had been away three years. + +So Herr Jodoque came up to the door of the little cottage, bringing +with him a basket. Jodoque believed in the burgomaster as a grand man, +and though nobody knew better than Jodoque that he was not very +clever, he rather tried in manner to imitate the important mayor. + +It is, and was, the custom in Ruegen for the bridegroom to make a +present, in a fancy basket, to the bride; and that the town might +not talk, Jodoque brought _his_ bride a basket, though it was not +particularly large, nor was it particularly heavy. + +Here is an inventory of its contents, which, with itself, Jodoque +laid down with considerable effect:--_Imprimis_,--one piece of cloth, +on the use of which Jodoque gave an essay. _Item_,--three cards of +knitting-wool, for mittens. _Item_ and _finis_,--one white rabbit, +the skin of which, Jodoque suggested, would make him a cap. + +"Good!" said Bertha;--"Jodoque," she added. + +"My angel!" + +"You know Madame Kurrig's?" + +"At the very other end of the town?" + +"Go there!" + +"Go there, angel?--why?" + +"The silver teapot"-- + +"_My_ sil--my aunt's silver teapot?" + +"Just so,--Madame Kurrig"-- + +"Has got it?--I go!--My aunt's silver teapot!" + +He ran down the little road towards the silver teapot,--for, indeed, +Madame Kurrig did not bear a superior character,--but he had not +proceeded far when he came upon the burgomaster, who was in great +tribulation. Only nineteen prisoners were at the fort, and the +governor had sent down a rather imperative message to the mayor, +who, replying that his loyal town could not conceal a fugitive, +met with such an answer as he had never received before in all his +life. It is a deplorable fact that he and the town were recommended +to go to a place, a visit to which the burgomaster at least hoped he +should not be compelled to make. + +The burgomaster was in the habit of asking people's opinions and +never listening to their answers, and he now asked Jodoque what he +was to do. Jodoque suggesting that the mayor could not want advice, +the mayor admitted there was something in that,--but still a word +was a word. Things, in fact, were in a pretty state, for the +burgomaster, now he had to do with the escape of a French prisoner. +And this was the case. The French were off the town, and at that +time the French had the luck to be generally sure in the matter of +victory. Now if the French took the town, and learned that the +burgomaster had taken a Frenchman, (for the burgomaster felt sure he +could recover the runaway, if he chose,) the burgomaster would +perform that _pas seul_ upon the ambient air which is far from a +pleasant feat; while if the French did _not_ take the town, and it +was brought home to him that he had neglected the duties of his +office, he would lose the position of burgomaster and be a degraded +man. + +Jodoque sadly wanted to reach Madame Kurrig's, but the burgomaster +sadly wanted help,--though he would not confess it openly;--so he +hooked himself on to Jodoque and uttered this sentence,--"And this +detested smuggler, too!"--The effect of which was, that Jodoque +became utterly pale and trembled violently. This behavior the +burgomaster attributed to his own proper presence, and asked himself, +--Could he survive degradation? No, better the tight-rope performance! +So he made up his mind to recapture the missing Frenchman. + +He, meantime, being a blithe, courageous young midshipman, was gayly +chattering with his protectress. There he was laughing at her +good-naturedly as she trembled for his sake, and chattering broken +German as best he could. Wealth is a good thing, and health a better; +but surely high spirited hope is worth more than the philosopher's +stone. + +"No, Mademoiselle,--I could bear the dark room no longer. Better an +hour in the light of your blue eyes than an age in that dark room!" + +"Still--nevertheless--it is dangerous to leave the room. The +burgomaster"-- + +"Cannot see all the way here from the town; besides, if he could, +your presence would dazzle him, and I should be safe." + +"So you can trust your secret with me,--a woman?" + +"I would trust it with two women,--three,--for with every disclosure +there would be a fear the less that I should be found. You cannot +comprehend that,--now consider." + +"La! I cannot." + +"How good you are! How would they punish you, if they learned the +truth?" + +"Oh, a good heart--I do think I have a good heart--don't weigh this +way and that when there is a good action to be done." + +"And done for the sake of a poor stranger." + +"Stranger? Nonsense! I meet you,--you are in misfortune; therefore we +are old friends. And an old friend may surely lend a room to her old +friend." + +"And your name?" + +"They call me Bertha." + +"And you are single?" + +"If you ask me that question an hour hence, I shall say, 'No.'" + +"No!--the only harsh word you have used." + +"Why harsh?" + +"Well, shut up in a dark room, you have your thoughts to yourself; +and you think, and think, and think again; and you always think of +the same thing; and then--then you wake up, and there's an end to +your dream." + +"And how do you know I have not dreamt?--The clothes I got for you +fit you well; you look a German. Ah, you make a grimace!" + +"So, you are going to be married." + +"In one hour--less five minutes." + +"Ah! which way am I to go?" + +"Straight back into the house." + +"Nonsense!--I should compromise you." + +"The house is mine; surely I may do as I like with it." + +"And when may I reach the coast?" + +"When the night reaches us." + +"Good!--and--and good-bye!" + +"Well,--yes,--good-bye, I suppose,--and--and promise me one thing?" + +"I do promise." + +"Don't look at him." + +"Him! Whom?" + +"My husband--who is coming." + +"He is so handsome?" + +"Oh, magnificent! Good-bye! good-bye!" + +Here he ran back into the dark room, while Bertha, who was a spoilt +child, if the truth may be told, pulled moodily at one of the two +long, black plaits of hair she wore. And it must be set down, sad as +it is, that, seeing Jodoque coming up the road to claim her, +accompanied by a sailorly-looking personage, she went in and shut +the door with a deal of vigor. + +The sailorly-looking personage was young, broad-chested, handsome, +and had not been in that part of Prussia for some six years. Jodoque, +prompted to sudden hospitality, had offered the sailorly personage a +seat at his marriage dinner-table, and he, with a great laugh, +accepted the invitation. He strolled leisurely on by the side of the +bridegroom, until he heard the bride's name, when behold the effect +produced! For he started back, and at first showed signs of choking +his informant. However, after an awkward stare, he moved on again. + +They soon came up to the door, and Jodoque was wondering why his +bride did not open it wide to him, when a bright, stout little woman, +dressed out in her best, came tripping through the garden-gate, +through which the two had just passed. This little woman's name was +Doome;--nobody knew why she was called Doome, but everybody called +her Doome, all over the little town. + +"Good morning, gentlemen! God preserve you, Jodoque! Good morning, +Bertha!"--for here the door opened. + +As she opened and appeared at the door, the sailor looked hard at her; +but she did not start as she returned his look. _He_ thought all +women were alike and forgot; but if this broad-chested sailor could +have seen his own blue jacket of six years before, perhaps it would +have been a good argument to induce him to pardon Bertha's +forgetfulness. + +"Good day, Miss!" said he, and brushed his cap from his head. + +The same explanation touching the sailor's presence was then given +to Bertha that I have given to you,--given as the whole party were +welcomed into the plain little house by its very far from plain +mistress. + +"Do you remember faces, Mistress?" said the sailor to Doome. + +"Yes, friend sailor." + +"Do you remember them for six years?" + +"La! no woman can remember for six years," said Doome. + +"I think _you_ could, Mistress," said the sailor. + +And thereupon the stout little Doome blushed and curtsied. + +Meanwhile the bride was thinking of the young Frenchman, and how she +could keep her secret, with half the town at the house and about it, +as there would be in another half-hour. She thought more of the +young stranger every moment, and especially when she gazed upon her +future,--which seemed to grow more disagreeable each time she +looked at it. + +The young sailor, keeping his eyes away from Bertha,--who set to work +drawing a huge mug of beer, in which piece of hospitality Jodoque +hoveringly helped her,--and addressing himself to Doome, said,-- +"Do you know, I was nearly snapped up by a shark some months ago?" + +With a sympathetic shudder the little woman replied, "The shark was +doubly cruel--who could--who could take out of the world so--so fine +a young man!" + +"Ah! I wish he had!" + +"Wish he had?" + +"Yes,--his teeth wouldn't have been half so sharp as the teeth +biting away at my heart now!" + +"Dear!" + +"Have you ever had a lover?" + +Here the little woman laughed outright. A lover! She could have +honestly answered, "Yes," if the handsome sailor had asked her if +she had had several score. _A_ lover, indeed! + +"Ah! well, suppose you only had one, when you were a poor girl, and +he left you, what then?" + +"Oh, I'd kill him first, and cry myself dead afterwards." + +"Well, _my_ sweetheart has gone from me." + +"What! what!--given _you_ up for _any one_?" + +"Yes, and--and--I don't think he's my master,--unless it's in dollars." + +"Ah!--And who saved you from the shark?" + +"A young French officer,--bless him! He harpooned my sealy friend, +and found a friend for life,--though it a'n't much a poor +sailor-fellow can do for an officer. And, though we're at war with +the French, I'd be hanged sooner than fire at his ship." + +Here Bertha, assisted by Jodoque, set the big jug down upon the +table with a bang. And here, too, something fell down in a +neighboring room,--precisely as though a person, journeying in a dark +chamber, had upset a heavy wooden chair. The noise sent Doome right +into the sailor's arms, and also sent Jodoque right behind Bertha, +who turned pale. + +"There's some one in the room," said Jodoque. + +"No, no!" said Bertha--"'tis poor aunt's room; no one goes there. +It's only the rats,--that's all,--only the rats." + +For a stranger, the sailor showed a great deal of curiosity; for he +turned very red, and said, "Suppose you look and see." + +"Oh, no, no! Never mind. 'Tis only rats. No one ever goes into that +room. My dear, dear guardian died in that room." + +"Yes, Mistress," said the sailor, "but rats don't throw down chairs +and tables." + +"No, surely no!" said Jodoque. + +"And if the house were mine," said the sailor, suiting the action to +the word, "why, I'd go up to the door like this,--and I'd put my +hand on the latch, and click it should go,--and--" + +Bertha ran up to the door too, laid her hand upon the sailor's arm, +and drew him away, as he quite willingly let her. Indeed, he +trembled and looked pleadingly at her, as she touched him; and he +murmured to himself, "Six years make a good deal of change." + +"You, a guest, have no right to touch that door." + +"If I were your husband, I should have." + +"Surely,--but you are not." + +"Yes, but this honest man here is as good as your husband." + +"No!" + +"No?" said the other three; and Jodoque, but for presence of mind, +might have overthrown the big jug of beer. + +"No,--for, truly, I'm not going to marry Jodoque." + +"Not going to marry me?" + +"Not going to marry him?--Why, as sure as you call me Doome, there +are the townsfolk, and the musicians, and the good father, and the +burgomaster, all with their faces already turned this way, I would +wager these new ribbons of mine!" + +"Let them all come!" + +"To send them back again?" + +"No, to witness my marriage." + +"And who's the bridegroom?" + +"Somebody all of you have forgotten." + +"No," said Doome, "I never forget a soul." + +"Do you remember the poor sailor-boy Daniel?" + +"I never saw him," said Doome. "No, friend sailor, you need not +squeeze my hand,--I never did see him." + +"Well, he has grown a man, and has come home." + +"Then," said Jodoque, "I suppose _I_ may go home." + +"Come home?--where _is_ he?--Still, my sailor friend, I can't tell +why you should tremble." + +"Yes, he has come home; and if he will have me, I will marry him." + +"And he'll have a good wife, Bertha," said the sailor, and he made a +movement as though about to run to the girl; but little Doome, too +impulsive to think about the Fraeulein Grundei, enthusiastically +clasped the arms of her friend's eulogizer. + +"Yes,--marry him!--and at this moment he is in that room! And now any +one of you may open the door." + +"Open the door?--I'll smash the door!" said the sailor, roughly +pushing the girl away from him. "So, Daniel is there, is he? Well, +let him come!" + +He ran up to the door, threw it open, and there, standing just within, +was the young French prisoner of war. + +"Good morning, all!" he said. + +"You are Daniel, are you?" said the sailor, drawing the other +forward to the light. "You are Daniel, are you?" + +He dragged him near the window and looked quickly at him. Then he +turned pale himself, and wrung his hand. + +"Yes!" said he, "yes!--it _is_ Daniel himself,--the very Daniel!" + +"Ah! so much the better!" said Doome. + +"Daniel? the _very_ Daniel?" said Bertha, faintly, and turned paler +yet. + +"I know you, comrade," said the sailor, aside,--"I know you. You are +the French officer who has escaped, but I'm down in your log for a +lump of gratitude; and so, you are Daniel. When a fellow saves you +from a shark, perhaps you'll be as willing to give him your name." + +"And why am I to take your name?" + +"To give it to Bertha, there!" + +"Give it to Bertha?" + +"Yes! Sign the contract, which the burgomaster has in his pocket; +sign it as Daniel;--'tis your only chance. And when you are gone, I +have paid my debt. And don't let us cross each other again. You gave +me my life, but that is no reason you should rob me of my wife!" + +"Rob you of your wife?" + +"Yes, of Bertha, who loved me six years ago!" + +"Why, she has barely known me six hours!" + +"True, but she loves you six times as much as she does the memory of +Daniel!" + +"But I do not care for her, beyond gratitude for sheltering me from +pursuit." + +"Oh, she has enough love for two of you!" + +"Well, to me, one wife or another,--and she is a nice girl,--and, +friend Daniel, where shall we go?" + +"We?--who?" + +"My wife and I," said the other, laughing + +"You, comrade? I will manage for you; but your wife will stop here." + +"Stop here?" + +"Why, you don't suppose I can give up the good girl I have loved for +the six years I've been rolling over the seas! 'Tis true, she +doesn't remember me, and thinks me dead; but when she learns the +truth, all the old love will come back; and she will like me none +the less for aiding you. The burgomaster, who shall be in the plot, +shall marry you to _my wife_,--and when you are gone, God speed you! +The burgomaster will set all that right, as he can; and Bertha and I +will often talk, in our seaside cot, of the French officer that we +saved." + +Here Doome interrupted the dialogue; for she could not conquer her +curiosity farther. So she came up, and complimented the French +officer (who was to be called Daniel) on his marriage. "To be sure, +he had almost forgotten German; for, as Bertha said, he had left +home almost before he could speak like a man, and had been in the +French service,--and so there it was! No doubt, now he had come back +to Germany, he would soon learn German again, and speak it like a +native;--eh, friend sailor?" "What, little one? I didn't hear you." + +The "little one," not dissatisfied at that term, flounced round, and +then gave a little scream,--for all the neighbors, with the +burgomaster at their head, were approaching the little house. When +they arrived, and the change of husbands was announced, not a +neighbor but framed a little mental history,--and, indeed, Jodoque +cut rather a ridiculous figure. As for the burgomaster,--who knew the +real Daniel, having discoursed with him about the French fleet +riding off the island, that very morning,--his dignity prevented him +from suddenly spoiling matters. Before he could sufficiently recover +himself from the blow which his dignity had received, Daniel came up +to him and said these two words,--"Your neck!" + +"What do you mean, young man?" + +"Suppose the French took Ruegen?" + +"Well, suppose they did?" + +"And suppose you had caused the recapture of a French officer?" + +"I haven't the least idea that I have caused a recapture; but +suppose so?" + +"Well, and if he was hung, and if the French took the place, you'd +be hung too." + +"What do you mean, young man?" + +"That man over there is the French officer who has escaped." + +"Good gracious me!" + +"Yes, and you must suppose him to be me. Marry him to Bertha, and +help him to escape to the French fleet." + +"No!--on the faith of a burgomaster, no!--on the word of a German, no!" + +"But your neck?" + +"I don't care. The French may not take the place." + +"And the French may. Who'll be the wiser, burgomaster?" + +"My conscience, young sailor." + +"And you'll save a man." + +"Oh, dear! dear! dear!" + +"Here! the best table for the burgomaster! The handsomest chair for +the burgomaster! Make a good pen for the burgomaster!" + +"Oh, dear! dear! dear!" + +The burgomaster then, in the homely German fashion, asked the usual +questions, filled up the marriage-contract, and then handed the pen +to the bride. She trembled rather as she put her name to the paper, +but not so much as the young sailor. + +As for the Frenchman, he hesitated before he put his name down,--and +when he had done so, he flung the pen away, as though he had done +wrong. One hour after that, these two young people were married in +the village church. + +The little village festivities which followed need not be dwelt upon; +but imagine the summer-evening come, and Daniel and the French +officer stealing down to the rocky beach. The young sailor showed a +deal of doubtful feeling as he saw the tearful energy with which +little Bertha parted with her make-believe husband; and when little +Doome, who had been let into all the secrets, except the one that +Daniel kept to himself--namely, that he was Daniel,--when little +Doome crept up to condole with him on the hard case of the +newly-married pair, it must be said that he pushed her away quite +roughly. + +Soon the two men reached the shore. Daniel instinctively went to a +little cove where he knew of old a boat would be,--and as darkness +came on, the plashing of a couple of oars sounded near the little +cove where the boat had been. + +"Mind, comrade, I have paid my debt! You may be taken, and you run +your chance; though if you get to your ship, you know, one gun, +_as you promised your wife_, fired eastward." + +"All right, Daniel. You will like me as well as ever, Daniel, in a +few days." + +"No, comrade, there's a woman between us." + +So the French officer went on his venturesome pull of a couple of +miles to the French fleet, and the sailor returned to the little +cottage, where were sitting Bertha and Doome. The latter, for his +cleverness and perhaps good looks, had begun to consider the sailor +as worth far more than those sixty youths who had caused her to laugh +when he referred to only one of them. But it is a deplorable fact, +that, while Doome welcomed Daniel back with a great deal of heartiness, +Fraeulein Bertha rather looked upon him as cruel; for what need was +there that her husband should have gone? He could have hidden till the +French took the place, and then he would have been free. For love +conflicts with patriotism woefully, and, though nobody could be more +grateful than Bertha for the good service Daniel had done her, yet +somehow she could not be over-pleased with him. She thanked him, +however, very warmly; but it was Doome who set the chair for him, +and Doome who got the beer for him, and Doome who proposed the sailor's +solace of a pipe. As the pipe was lit by that young woman, Bertha got +up to leave the room. + +"Where are you going, Bertha?" + +"Into the garden. My head aches." + +And she went out. + +"I think, Doome,--they call you Doome, don't they? and a tidy name, +too,--I think, Doome, Bertha doesn't like pipes." + +"_I_ think the smell of a pipe delicious." + +"And what do you think of this pipe?" + +"Oh! _I_ think it a beautiful pipe!" + +"Hum,--so you've lots of lovers?" + +"Well,--I have a few." + +"Ah!--do _they_ smoke?" + +"Yes,--some of them." + +"You queer little Doome!--Are any of them rich?" + +"Oh, I don't care a bit for money!" + +"And what are they?--farmers?" + +"I shouldn't like to marry a farmer." + +"I suppose Bertha has sat down. I don't hear her step." + +"No,--I shouldn't like to marry a farmer,--farmers are such quiet +people." + +"Don't you marry a sailor!" + +"Law, sailor-friend, (_I_ don't know your name,) why?" + +"Why? Because, if he went away for six years, you would forget him; +and that's what Fritz says." + +"No, Mr. Fritz, I should _not_ forget him,--but I should not let him +go away for six years." + +"But suppose the king ordered him?" + +"Then the king don't deserve to have a wife." + +"And yet he has." + +"So much the worse!" + +"Bertha must have sat down." + +"You know I don't think I care for one of my lovers. I think I could +give them all up,--yes, every one,--if I met with anybody that I +could love." + +"Yes, and then suppose he didn't care for you?" + +As Doome had never considered the probability of any such situation, +its suggestion rather startled her. She held her tongue, while +Daniel puffed gravely. + +Soon Bertha came slowly into the room. "I think he ought to have got +there by this time; don't you, Sir?" + +"He's named Fritz, Bertha,--call him Fritz." + +"Don't you think he ought to be there by this time, Mr. Fritz?" + +"Surely, Mistress! You will soon hear the cannon;--'tis not more +than two miles, and he left the shore a good hour ago." + +So she went up to the window. + +"I suppose, Mistress, if he did not come back for six years, you +would forget him,--wouldn't you?" + +She was so lost in thought, that she didn't answer; so Doome took +the answer upon herself. "You are very hard upon us women, Fritz,--Mr. +Fritz. No, of course she would not forget him; no wife ever forgets +her husband. Why, do you think I should forget you, Fritz,--Mr. +Fritz,--if you were my husband, and if you went away for six years?" + +"There are women and women, Doome, Fraeulein Doome,"-- + +"Ah!--hark!" + +At this moment the sound of a cannon-shot swept over the little +cottage, and Daniel, running to the window, and putting his hand out +to feel the breeze, declared that it was fired east-ward. + +Now Bertha was at the window, and, as the sailor spoke, he looked +into her face. She quickly put her arm round his neck in the German +fashion, kissed him gratefully, and said, "You good, good man!" + +He kissed her in turn, and looked eagerly at her,--but she didn't +recognize him, though he kissed her in precisely the manner of six +years ago. + +He sat down again, and again smoked,--and as, in the most heroic +poem, people eat and drink, and as Anne Boleyn would have thought it +hard to starve while her trial was going on, surely, as this is only +the chronicle of people such as you may meet any day, and not at all +heroic, it may not be wrong to state, that plain-spoken, every-day, +love-making little Doome got supper ready. + +Bertha had saved a prisoner, Daniel had assisted, and little Doome +rather liked Daniel, yet nobody ate much; and when Daniel (at the +suggestion of Doome) was furnished with a mattress and blanket on +the floor, he did not make use of it, but sat smoking,--smoking for +hours after the two women had gone off to Bertha's room. + +But when the tobacco-pouch was empty, and the pipe was cold, the +sailor fell asleep in his chair; and though he had done a good act +the preceding day, he did not sleep well, but sighed heavily as he +slumbered on. + +And now it was that Jodoque, the Discomfited, again came upon the +stage. Having been laughed at by every soul in the village, that +poor bachelor went to his lonely house, took a small mug of +consolatory weak beer, felt convinced that all women were deceivers, +vowed that from that time forth he would think no more of matrimony, +and went to bed in the dark,--prompted thereto by the power of +economy in candles. He had fallen asleep, and slept soundly, when +thrift prompted him to remember that one piece of cloth, several +balls of wool, and one white rabbit,--his property,--were at that +moment at the deceiver Bertha's. Why should he, the deceived, make +the married pair happy, with one piece of cloth, several balls of +wool, and a white rabbit? And Jodoque woke up to the terrible truth +in a cold sweat. The articles in question were at the deceiver +Bertha's. At the first break of day he would go and demand his +property. Being unable to sleep through the remainder of the dark +hours, he presented but a disreputable appearance when he clapped to +the little door of his house. + +It was barely light, and it was not an overpowering distance for +Jodoque to walk from his house to Bertha's. He knew the household +would not be up, but he determined to sit down before it,--besiege +it, in fact,--and carry off the cloth, the wool, and the white rabbit, +when the enemy should first be moving. + +And this is what he saw, as he came up to the cottage:--A young +officer in the French uniform was getting in at Bertha's +kitchen-window. Jodoque seized the idea, as though it were the white +rabbit,--this was the French officer who had escaped yesterday, +endeavoring to hide himself in Bertha's house. + +Jodoque did not instantly rush forward to re-arrest this prisoner; +but it struck him there must be a reward for the recapture; so, +determining upon taking the prisoner and the basket at one fell swoop, +he tore away to the burgomaster's to inform him of the discovery. He +reached the official residence, and drew the pompous little +burgomaster to his bedroom-window in a moment. The burgomaster was +rather scandalized that such a respectable man as Jodoque should be +out at such an hour; but when he heard the information, he grew +considerably cold, and rather wished the French fleet would +successfully challenge the place at once, and relieve him of his +admirable chance of the halter. + +Was ever burgomaster in such a fix? He wished his ardent longing for +that position had been strangled at his birth. No,--he had saved his +neck from the French, he thought to himself, by conniving at the escape +of a French officer the day previous, and now his neck was in danger +for having very properly tried to save it on that previous day. + +But action, action! Whatever came of it, he must appear a patriotic +burgomaster; so he took his night-cap off, and, in spite of the +energetic remonstrances of the burgomaster's lady, was soon down in +the street, surrounded by half a dozen men, and making for Bertha's +eventful little mansion-- + +Within which was passing a terrible scene. + +The fact is, that, when the false Daniel arrived at the fleet and +reported himself, he found that he had escaped with only part of +himself, and rather wanted the rest; and as at that time the French +navy was allowed a liberty which it has not now, the young officer +laid a statement of the whole case before his commander. That daring +personage thus recommended:--A French boat to start away for shore +with this young officer, and several more in her; that it should +touch near Bertha's house; that Bertha should receive the merest hint, +and then take passage for the French fleet herself. + +The French officer, attended by half-a-dozen more youths, came back +to the shore, and, just as day was peeping, came up to the little +right-hand window; and as no one answered his tap, he raised the +sash and jumped lightly in. + +This Jodoque saw and reported to the burgomaster; but he could not +tell the remainder. + +For Daniel, waked by the tapping on the window-pane, saw who it was, +and believing that he had come to steal his wife from him, he +clenched his fists, and, as the slim young man jumped down into the +room, crushed him almost dead in his strong arms. + +"Not a word, or I'll stifle you!" + +"Daniel! Daniel!" + +"Not a word,--and don't Daniel me, you thief!" + +"Thief?" + +"Don't speak loud." + +"How thief?" + +"You would steal my wife from me." + +"How your wife?" + +"Why, Bertha;--she promised to marry me six long years ago, and she +would have married me, if _you_ had not come and stolen her heart." + +"Why, you yourself gave her to me!" + +"Ah! I owed you a debt I had to pay. 'Tis paid now. I thought you +gone, and the marriage knocked on the head; but now, you've come back, +and won't go again!" + +"But, Daniel"-- + +"Don't Daniel _me_, I say, and don't speak loud; at least, _she_ +sha'n't see you taken off. Lie quiet for her sake, and show your +love for her that way." + +"And so you'll give me up, old friend, whose life _I_ saved?" + +"Saved!--you saved it once, and I saved yours. You took away my hope +when you robbed me of my wife;--now I give you a like return." + +"And you yourself, Daniel, who harbored me yesterday"-- + +"That's nothing to you.--Lie still till some one passes." + +For the strong sailor had tipped the officer on to the mattress. +There he lay,--not from want of courage, but because he did not know +what to do. + +The sailor felt for his pipe, but he remembered that all the tobacco +was smoked up; so he set the pipe down again and bit his nails. + +He had not waited a quarter of an hour when a voice said,--"This way, +Herr Burgomaster!--this way!" + +The sailor and his prisoner both started to their feet; and the +burgomaster, coming to the open window, lost the last faint hopes he +had had that this said French officer might not, after all, be the +French officer at whose escape he, the respected burgomaster and +butcher, had assisted. + +"Mr. Burgomaster, here is a French prisoner,--and I hand him to you +as the fit personage to place him in the hands of the commander." + +Thus spoke Daniel, and, as he spoke, Bertha appeared at the door of +her room, and with her Doome, who hearing this little speech, all her +liking for the sailor vanished on the instant. She was ready to +utterly exterminate him, and more than ready to cry, which she did, +straightway. + +As this is only a little comedy, and by no means tragical, we pass +over the next scene, and simply state, that Bertha, before all those +neighbors, forgot everybody but her husband,--if he may be called so, +--and the church had said so; that Daniel felt great remorse at what +he had done; that he told Doome again that he wished the shark had +finished him; that Doome didn't or wouldn't hear, for her idol was +broken,--and so was Doome's heart, nearly. + +The authorities took away the prisoner, and left Bertha and Doome +wretched and alone. As for Daniel, he went out wandering by himself, +--for he rather felt ashamed to look upon anybody. + +At this time, a little boat with a white flag at its prow put off +from the French fleet, and bravely approached the bristling fort of +Ruegen. Nearer and nearer it comes,--nearer and nearer; and in half an +hour there is great cheering over the island of Ruegen, for peace +between Prussia and France is declared. + +'Tis true, the peace did not last very long; but it lasted long +enough to save the French officer. He was set at liberty at once, +and an hour afterwards Daniel could look people in the face again, +--all except Doome, who would not cease to be incensed. + +"But then," said Daniel, "you know I'd been waiting six years." + +"How?" exclaimed Bertha. + +"Yes, Bertha,--I'm the real Daniel. Look here!"--and half a little +silver cross came forward. + +"And you didn't say it when you came!--and you actually gave her to +him!--and you saved his life!--and oh! you, you CAPTAIN of a man!" + +Thus Doome spoke and was comforted. + +And Bertha went up to her old sweetheart and kissed him, saying, she +thought she knew of a better wife for him than she could ever have +made,--for, now that Ernest (the French officer) had suffered so +much for her sake, she had no right to leave him. And, indeed, they +were re-married that day. + +It was after Bertha had said she knew of a better wife for him, that +Daniel looked at Doome, who, picking up that pipe of his, handed it +to him. + +"Will you take care of it, Doome?" + +"Save when you want it." + +"Oh! I mean to come with it." + +"'Tis the handsomest pipe in all Germany,--and--and I won't part +with it till I part with you." + +Hence, you see, there were two marriages that morning. Doome parted +with the pipe a good deal,--for Daniel loved the sea as heartily as +he had loved Bertha and grew to love Doome, who assured him many +times that she was a far better wife for him than Bertha would have +made. Whereupon Daniel would kiss her,--so you can draw your own +conclusion as to his motive. For my part, I say first love is only +heart-love,--and you see the heart is not so wise as the head. + +By the time the long war was over,--with Waterloo for the last act, +--Ernest had made not a little money; so he and Bertha--now a grand +lady--came to Ruegen. Ernest learned German, perfectly, from his own +children and Doome's, and turned his sword into a ploughshare. + +As for Daniel,--he gave up the sea and took a wine-shop. + +Those four people are now still alive; and if Bertha and Daniel did +not marry, their children have,--though it was rather lowering to +those grand young ladies and gentlemen, Bertha's children. + +Those four, when they meet and clapper their friendly old tongues, +can hardly believe that once upon a time they were all at sixes and +sevens,--and that Ernest himself was once in that very place a +Prisoner of War. + + + + +THE "WASHING OF THE FEET," ON HOLY THURSDAY, IN ST. PETER'S. + + + Once more the temple-gates lie open wide: + Onward, once more, + Advance the Faithful, mounting like a tide + That climbs the shore. + + What seek they? Blank the altars stand today, + As tombstones bare: + Christ of his raiment was despoiled; and they + His livery wear. + + Today the puissant and the proud have heard + The "mandate new":[1] + That which He did, their Master and their Lord, + They also do. + + Today the mitred foreheads, and the crowned, + In meekness bend: + New tasks today the sceptred hands have found; + The poor they tend. + + Today those feet which tread in lowliest ways, + Yet follow Christ, + Are by the secular lords of power and praise + Both washed and kissed. + + Hail, ordinance sage of hoar antiquity, + Which She retains, + That Church who teaches man how meek should be + The head that reigns! + + +[Footnote 1: _Mandatum Novum_:--hence the name of "Maundy Thursday."] + + + + * * * * * + + + + +PHYSICAL COURAGE. + + +The Romans had a military machine, called a _balista_, a sort of +vast crossbow, which discharged huge stones. It is said, that, when +the first one was exhibited, an athlete exclaimed, "Farewell +henceforth to all courage!" Montaigne relates, that the old knights, +in his youth, were accustomed to deplore the introduction of +fencing-schools, from a similar apprehension. Pacific King James +predicted, but with rejoicing, the same result from iron armor. +"It was an excellent thing," he said,--"one could get no harm in it, +nor do any." And, similarly, there exists an opinion now, that the +combined powers of gunpowder and peace are banishing physical courage, +and the need of it, from the world. + +Peace is good, but this result of it would be sad indeed. Life is +sweet, but it would not be sweet enough without the occasional relish +of peril and the luxury of daring deeds. Amid the changes of time, +the monotony of events, and the injustice of mankind, there is always +accessible to the poorest this one draught of enjoyment,--danger. +"In boyhood," said the Norwegian enthusiast, Ole Bull, "I loved to be +far out on the ocean in my little boat, for it was dangerous, and in +danger one draws near to God." Perhaps every man sometimes feels this +longing, has his moment of ardor, when he would fain leave politics +and personalities, even endearments and successes, behind, and would +exchange the best year of his life for one hour at Balaklava with +the "Six Hundred." It is the bounding of the Berserker blood in us, +--the murmuring echo of the old death-song of Regnar Lodbrog, as he +lay amid vipers in his dungeon:--"What is the fate of a brave man, +but to fall amid the foremost? He who is never wounded has a weary +lot." + +This makes the fascination of war, which is in itself, of course, +brutal and disgusting. Dr. Johnson says, truly, that the naval and +military professions have the dignity of danger, since mankind +reverence those who have overcome fear, which is so general a +weakness. The error usually lies in exaggerating the difference, in +this respect, between war and peace. Madame de Sevigne writes to her +cousin, Bussy-Rabutin, after a campaign, "I cannot understand how +one can expose himself a thousand times, as you have done, and not +be killed a thousand times also." To which the Count answers, that +she overrates the danger; a soldier may often make several campaigns +without drawing a sword, and be in a battle without seeing an enemy, +--as, for example, where one is in the second line, or rear guard, +and the first line decides the contest. He finally quotes Turenne, +and Maurice, Prince of Orange, to the same effect, that a military +life is less perilous than civilians suppose. + +It is, therefore, a foolish delusion to suppose, that, as the world +grows more pacific, the demand for physical courage passes away. It +is only that its applications become nobler. In barbarous ages, men +fight against men and animals, and need, like Achilles, to be fed on +the marrow of wild beasts. As time elapses, the savage animals are +extirpated, the savage men are civilized; but Nature, acting through +science, commerce, society, is still creating new exigencies of peril, +and evoking new types of courage to meet them. Grace Darling at her +oars, Kane in his open boat, Stephenson testing his safety-lamp in +the terrible pit,--what were the trophies of Miltiades to these? The +ancient Agamemnon faced no danger so memorable as that ocean-storm +which beset his modern namesake, bearing across the waters a more +priceless treasure than Helen, pride of Greece. And, indeed, setting +aside these sublimities of purpose, and looking simply at the +quantity and quality of peril, it is doubtful whether any tale of +the sea-kings thrills the blood more worthily than the plain +newspaper narrative of Captain Thomas Bailey, in the Newburyport +schooner, "Atlas," beating out of the Gut of Canso, in a gale of wind, +with his crew of two men and a boy, up to their waists in the water. + +It is easy to test the matter. Let any one, who believes that the +day of daring is past, beg or buy a ride on the locomotive of the +earliest express-train, some cold winter-morning. One wave of the +conductor's hand, and the live engine springs snorting beneath you, +as no Arab steed ever rushed over the desert. It is not like being +bound to an arrow, for that motion would be smoother; it is not like +being hurled upon an ocean crest, for that would be slower. You are +rushing onward, and you are powerless; that is all. The frosty air +gives such a brittle and slippery look to the two iron lines which +lie between you and destruction, that you appreciate the Mohammedan +fable of the Bridge Herat, thinner than a hair, sharper than a +scimitar, which stretches over hell and leads to paradise. Nothing +has passed over that perilous track for many hours; the cliffs may +have fallen and buried it, the frail bridges may have sunk beneath it, +or diabolical malice put obstructions on it, no matter how trivial, +equally fatal to you; each curving embankment may hide unknown horrors, +from which, though all others escape, you, on the engine, cannot; +and yet, still the surging locomotive bounds onward, beneath your +mad career. You draw a long breath, as you dismount at last, a hundred +miles away, as if you had been riding with Mazeppa or Brunechilde, +and yet escaped alive. And there, by your side, stands the quiet, +grimy engineer, turning already to his tobacco and his newspaper, +and unconscious, while he reads of the charge at Balaklava, that +his life is Balaklava every day. + +Physical courage is not, therefore, a thing to be so easily set aside. +Nor is it, as our reformers appear sometimes to assume, a mere +corollary from moral courage, and, ultimately, to be merged in that. +Moral courage is rare enough, no doubt,--probably the rarer quality +of the two, as it is the nobler; but they are things diverse, and +not necessarily united. There have been men, and still are such, +leaders of their age in moral courage, and yet physically timid. This +is not as it should be. God placed man at the head of the visible +universe, and if he is to be thrown from his control, daunted by a +bullet, or a wild horse, or a flash of lightning, or a lee shore, +then man is dishonored, and the order of the universe deranged. No +matter what the occasion of the terror is, a mouse or a martyrdom, +fear dethrones us. "He that lives in fear of death," said Caesar, +"at every moment feels its tortures. I will die but once." + +Having claimed thus much, we can still readily admit that we cannot +yet estimate the precise effect upon physical courage of a state of +permanent national peace, since indeed we are not yet within sight +of that desirable consummation. Meanwhile, let us attempt some +slight sketch and classification of the different types of physical +courage, as already existing, among which are to be enumerated the +spontaneous courage of the blood,--the courage of habit,--magnetic +or transmitted courage,--and the courage inspired by self-devotion. + +There is a certain innate fire of the blood, which does not dare +perils for the sake of principle, nor grow indifferent to them from +familiarity, nor confront them under support of a stronger will,--but +loves them for their own sake, without reference to any ulterior +object. There is no special merit in it, for it is a matter of +temperament. Yet it often conceals itself under the finer names of +self-devotion and high purpose,--as George Borrow convinced himself +that he was actuated by evangelical zeal to spread the Bible in Spain, +though one sees, through every line of his narrative, that it was +chiefly the adventure which allured him, and that he would as +willingly have distributed the Koran in London, had it been equally +contraband. No surplices, no libraries, no counting-house desks can +eradicate this natural instinct. Achilles, disguised among the +maidens, was detected by the wily Ulysses, because he chose arms, +not jewels, from the travelling merchant's stores. In the most +placid life, a man may pant for danger; and we know quiet, +unobtrusive men who have confessed to us that they never step into a +railroad-car without the secret hope of a collision. + +This is the courage of heroic races, as Highlanders, Circassians, +Montenegrins, Afghans, and those Arabs among whom Urquhart finely +said that peace could not be purchased by victory. Where destined to +appear at all, it is likely to be developed in extreme youth, which +explains such instances as the _gamins de Paris_, and that of Sir +Cloudesley Shovel, who in boyhood conveyed a dispatch during a naval +engagement, swimming through double lines of fire. Indeed, among +heroic races, young soldiers are preferable for daring; such, at +least, is the testimony of the highest authorities, as Ney and +Wellington. "I have found," said the Duke, "that raw troops, however +inferior to the old ones in manoeuvring, may be superior to them in +downright hard fighting with the enemy. At Waterloo, the young ensigns +and lieutenants, who had never before seen an enemy, rushed to meet +death, as if they were playing at cricket." + +But though youth is good for an onset, it needs habit and discipline +to give steadiness. A boy will risk his life where a veteran will be +too circumspect to follow him; but to perform a difficult manoeuvre +in face of an enemy requires Sicinius with forty-five scars on his +breast. "The very apprehension of a wound," said Seneca, "startles a +man when he first bears arms; but an old soldier bleeds boldly, for +he knows that a man may lose blood and yet win the day." Before the +battle of Preston Pans, Mr. Ker of Graden, "an experienced officer," +mounted on a gray pony, coolly reconnoitred all the difficult ground +between the two armies, crossed it in several directions, +deliberately alighted more than once to lead his horse through gaps +made for that purpose in the stone walls,--under a constant shower +of musket-balls. He finally returned unhurt to Charles Edward, and +dissuaded him from crossing. Undoubtedly, any raw Highlander in the +army would have incurred the same risk, with or without a sufficient +object; but not one of them would have brought back so clear a report, +--if, indeed, he had brought himself back. + +The most common evidence of this dependence of many persons' courage +on habit is in the comparative timidity of brave men against novel +dangers,--as of sailors on horseback, and mountaineers at sea. Nay, +the same effect is sometimes produced merely by different forms of +danger within the same sphere. Sea-captains often attach an +exaggerated sense of peril to small boats; Conde confessed himself a +coward in a street-fight; and William the Conqueror is said to have +trembled exceedingly (_rehementer tremens_) during the disturbance +which interrupted his coronation. It was probably from the same cause, +that Mrs. Inchbald, the most fearless of actresses, was once +entirely overcome by timidity on assuming a character in a masquerade. + +On a larger scale, the mere want of habitual exposure to danger will +often cause a whole population to be charged with greater cowardice +than really belongs to them. Thus, after the coronation of the +Chevalier, in the Scottish insurrection of 1745, although the +populace of Edinburgh crowded around him, kissing his very garments +when he walked abroad, yet scarcely a man could be enlisted, in view +of the certainty of an approaching battle with General Cope. And +before this, when the Highlanders were marching on the city, out of a +volunteer corps of four hundred raised to meet them, all but +forty-five deserted before the gate was passed.[1] Yet there is no +reason to doubt that these frightened citizens, after having once +stood fire, might have been as brave as the average. It was a saying +in Kansas, that the New England men needed to be shot at once or +twice, after which they became the bravest of the brave. + +This habitual courage mingles itself, doubtless, with the third +species, the magnetic, or transmitted. No mental philosopher has yet +done justice to the wondrous power of leadership, the "art Napoleon." +The ancients stated it best in their proverb, that an army of stags +led by a lion is more formidable than an army of lions led by a +stag. It was for this reason that the Greeks used to send to Sparta, +not for soldiers, but for a general. When Crillon, _l'homme sans peur_, +defended Quilleboeuf with a handful of men against Marshal Villars, +the latter represented to him, that it was madness to resist such +superiority of numbers, to which the answer was simply,--"_Crillon +est dedans, et Villars est dehors_." The event proved that the hero +inside was stronger than the army outside. + +Every one knows that there is a certain magnetic power in courage, +apart from all physical strength. In a family of lone women, there is +usually some one whose presence is held to confer safety on the house; +she may be a delicate invalid, but she is not afraid. The same +quality explains the difference in the demeanor of different +companies of men and women, in great emergencies of danger. Read one +narrative of shipwreck, and human nature seems all sublime; read +another, and, under circumstances equally desperate, it appears base, +selfish, grovelling. The difference lies simply in the influence of +a few leading spirits. Ordinarily, as is the captain, so are the +officers, so are the passengers, so are the sailors. Bonaparte said, +that at the beginning of almost every battle there was a moment when +the bravest troops were liable to sudden panic; let the personal +control of the general once lead them past that, and the field was +half won. + +The courage of self-devotion, lastly, is the faculty evoked by +special exigencies, in persons who have before given no peculiar +evidence of courage. It belongs especially to the race of martyrs +and enthusiasts, whose personal terrors vanish in the greatness of +the object, so that Joan of Arc, listening to the songs of the angels, +does not feel the flames. This, indeed, is the accustomed form in +which woman's courage proclaims itself at last, unsuspected until +the crisis comes. This has given us the deeds of Flora Macdonald, +Jane Lane, and the Countess of Derby; the rescue of Lord Nithisdale +by his wife, and that planned for Montrose by Lady Margaret Durham; +the heroism of Catherine Douglas, thrusting her arm within the +stanchions of the doorway to protect James I. of Scotland, till his +murderers shattered the frail barrier; and that sublimest narrative +of woman's devotion, Gertrude Van der Wart at her husband's execution. +It is possible that all these women may have been timid and shrinking, +before the hour of trial; and every emergency, in peace or war, +brings out some such instances. At the close of the troubles of 1856, +in Kansas, a traveller chanced to be visiting a lady in Lawrence, who, +in opening her work-basket, accidentally let fall a small pistol. She +smiled and blushed, and presently acknowledged, that, when she had +first pulled the trigger experimentally, six months before, she had +shut her eyes and screamed, although there was only a percussion-cap +to explode. Yet it afterwards appeared that she was one of the few +women who remained in their houses, to protect them by their presence, +when the town was entered by the Missourians,--and also one of the +still smaller number who brought their rifles to aid their husbands +in the redoubt, when two hundred were all that could be rallied +against three thousand, in September of that eventful year. Thus +easily is the transition effected! + +This is the courage, also, of Africans, as manifested among ourselves, +--the courage created by desperate emergencies. Suppled by long +slavery, softened by mixture of blood, the black man seems to pass +at one bound, as women do, from cowering pusillanimity to the topmost +height of daring. The giddy laugh vanishes, the idle chatter is +hushed, and the buffoon becomes a hero. Nothing in history surpasses +the bravery of the Maroons of Surinam, as described by Stedman, or +of those of Jamaica, as delineated by Dallas. Agents of the +"Underground Railroad" report that the incidents which daily come to +their knowledge are beyond all Greek, all Roman fame. These men and +women, who have tested their courage in the lonely swamp against the +alligator and the bloodhound, who have starved on prairies, hidden +in holds, clung to locomotives, ridden hundreds of miles cramped in +boxes, head downward, equally near to death if discovered or deserted, +--and who have then, after enduring all this, gone voluntarily back +to risk it over again, for the sake of wife or child,--what are we +pale faces, that we should claim a rival capacity with theirs for +heroic deeds? What matter, if none, below the throne of God, can now +identify that nameless negro in the Tennessee iron-works, who, during +the last insurrection, said "he knew all about the plot, but would +die before he would tell? He _received seven hundred and fifty +lashes and died_." Yet where, amid the mausoleums of the world, +is there carved an epitaph like that? + +The courage of blood, of habit, or of imitation is not necessarily a +very exalted thing. But the courage of self-devotion cannot be +otherwise than noble, however wasted on fanaticism or delusion. It +enters the domain of conscience. Yet, although the sublimest, it is +not necessarily the most undaunted form of courage. It is vain to +measure merit by martyrdom, without reference to the temperament, +the occasion, and the aim. There is no passion in the mind of man so +weak, said Lord Bacon, but it mates and masters the fear of death. +Sinner, as well as saint, may be guillotined or lynched, and endure +it well. A red Indian or a Chinese robber will dare the stake as +composedly as an early Christian or an abolitionist. One of the +bravest of all death-scenes was the execution of Simon, Lord Lovat, +who was unquestionably one of the greatest scoundrels that ever +burdened the earth. We must look deeper. The test of a man is not in +the amount of his endurance, but in its motive; does he love the +right, he may die in glory on a bed of down; is he false and base, +these things thrust discord into his hymn of dying anguish, and no +crown of thorns can sanctify his drooping head. Physical courage is, +after all, but a secondary quality, and needs a sublime motive to +make it thoroughly sublime. + +Among all these different forms of courage it is almost equally true +that it is the hardest of all qualities to predict or identify, in +an individual case, before the actual trial. Many a man has been +unable to discover, till the critical moment, whether he himself +possessed it or not. It is often denied to the healthy and strong, +and given to the weak. The pugilist may be a poltroon, and the +bookworm a hero. We have seen the most purely ideal philosopher in +this country face the black muzzles of a dozen loaded revolvers with +his usual serene composure. And on the other hand, we have known a +black-bearded backwoodsman, whose mere voice and presence would +quell any riot among the lumberers,--yet this man, nicknamed by his +_employees_ "the black devil," confessed himself to be in secret +the most timid of lambs. + +One reason of this difficulty of estimate lies in the fact, that +courage and cowardice often complicate themselves with other +qualifies, and so show false colors. For instance, the presence or +absence of modesty may disguise the genuine character. The +unpretending are not always timid, nor always brave. The boaster is +not always, but only commonly, a coward. Were it otherwise, how +could we explain the existence of courage in Frenchmen or Indians? +Barking dogs sometimes bite, as many a small boy, too trustful of the +proverb, has found to his cost. "If that be a friend of yours," says +Branteme's brave Spanish Cavalier, "pray for his soul, for he has +quarrelled with me." Indeed, the Gascons, whose name is identified +with boasting, (gasconade,) were always among the bravest races in +Europe. + +Again, the mere quality of caution is often mistaken for cowardice, +while heedlessness passes for daring. A late eminent American +sculptor, a man of undoubted courage, is said to have always taken +the rear car in a railroad train. Such a spirit of prudence, where +well-directed, is to be viewed with respect. We ought not to +reverence the blind recklessness which sits on the safety-valve +during a steamboat-race, but the cool composure which neither +underrates a danger nor shrinks from it. The best encomium is that +of Malcolm M'Leod upon Charles Edward:--"He was the most cautious man, +not to be a coward, and the bravest man, not to be rash, that I ever +saw"; or that of Charles VII. of France upon Pierre d'Aubusson:--"Never +did I see united so much fire and so much wisdom." + +Still again, men vary as to the form of danger which tests them most +severely. The Irish are undoubtedly a brave nation, but their +courage is apt to vanish in presence of sickness. They are not, +however, alone in this, if we may judge from the newspaper statements, +that, after the recent quarantine riots in New York, a small-pox +patient lay all day untended in the Park, because no one dared to go +near him. It is said of Dr. Johnson, that he was a hero against pain, +but a coward against death. Probably the contrary emotion is quite +as common. To a believer in immortality, death, even when premature, +can scarcely be regarded as an unmitigated evil, but pain enforces +its own recognition. We can hardly agree with the frightened recruit +in the farce, who thinks "Victory or Death" a forbidding war-cry, +but "Victory or Wooden Legs" a more appetizing alternative. + +Beside these complications, there are those arising from the share +which conscience has in the matter. "Thrice is he armed that hath +his quarrel just," and the most resolute courage will sometimes +quail in a bad cause, and even die in its armor, like Bois-Guilbert. +It was generally admitted, on both sides, in Kansas, that the +"Border Ruffians" seldom dared face an equal number; yet nobody +asserted that these men were intrinsically deficient in daring; it +was only conscience which made cowards of them all. + +But it is, after all, the faculty of imagination which, more than +all else, confuses the phenomena of courage and cowardice. A very +imaginative child is almost sure to be reproached with timidity, +while mere stolidity takes rank as courage. The bravest boy may +sometimes be most afraid of the dark, or of ghosts, or of the great +mysteries of storms and the sea. Even the mighty Charlemagne +shuddered when the professed enchanter brought before him the vast +forms of Dietrich and his Northern companions, on horseback. We once +saw a party of boys tested by an alarm which appealed solely to the +imagination. The only one among them who stood the test was the most +cowardly of the group, who escaped the contagion through sheer lack +of this faculty. Any imaginative person can occasionally test this +on himself by sleeping in a large lonely house, or by bathing alone +in some solitary place by the great ocean; there comes a thrill +which is not born of terror, and the mere presence of a child breaks +the spell,--though it would only enhance the actual danger, if danger +there were. + +This explains the effect of darkness on danger. "Let Ajax perish in +the face of day." Who has not shuddered over the description of +that Arkansas duel, fought by two naked combatants, with pistol and +bowie-knife, in a dark room? One thrills to think of those first +few moments of breathless, sightless, hopeless, hushed expectation, +--then the confused encounter, the slippery floor, the invisible, +ghastly terrors of that horrible chamber. Many a man would shrink +from that, who would march coolly up to the cannon's mouth by +daylight. + +It is probably this mingling of imaginative excitement which makes +the approach of peril often more terrible than its actual contact. +"A true knight," said Sir Philip Sidney, "is fuller of gay bravery +in the midst than at the beginning of danger." The boy Conde was +reproached with trembling, in his first campaign. "My body trembles," +said the hero, "with the actions my soul meditates." And it is said +of Charles V., that he often trembled when arming for battle, but in +the conflict was as cool as if it were impossible for an emperor to +be killed. + +These stray glimpses into the autobiography of heroism are of +inestimable value, and they are scanty at best. It is said of Turenne, +that he was once asked by M. de Lamoignon, at the dinner-table of +the latter, if his courage was never shaken at the commencement of a +battle? "Yes," said Turenne, "I sometimes undergo great nervous +excitement; but there are in the army a great multitude of subaltern +officers and soldiers who experience none whatever." This goes to +illustrate the same point. + +To give to any form of courage an available or working value, it is +essential that it have two qualities, promptness and persistency. +What Napoleon called "two-o'clock-in-the-morning courage" is rare. +It requires great enthusiasm or great discipline to be proof against +a surprise. It is said that Suwarrow, even in peace, always slept +fully armed, boots and all. "When I was lazy," he said, "and wanted +to enjoy a comfortable sleep, I usually took off one spur." In +regard to persistency, history is full of instances of unexpected +reverses and eleventh-hour triumphs. The battle of Marengo was +considered hopeless, for the first half of the day, and a retreat was +generally expected, on the part of the French; when Desaix, +consulted by Bonaparte, looked at his watch and said,--"The battle +is completely lost, but it is only two o'clock, and we shall have +time to gain another." He then made his famous and fatal +cavalry-charge, and won the field. It was from a noble appreciation +of this quality of persistency, that, when the battle of Cannae was +lost, and Hannibal was measuring by bushels the rings of the fallen +Roman knights, the Senate of Rome voted thanks to the defeated +general, Consul Terentius Varro, for not having despaired of the +republic. + +Thus armed at all points, incapable of being either surprised or +exhausted, courage achieves results which seem miraculous. It is an +element of inspiration, something superadded and incalculable, when +all the other forces are exhausted. When we consider how really +formidable becomes the humblest of quadrupeds, cat or rat, when it +grows mad and desperate and throws all personal fear behind, it is +clear that there must be a reserved power in human daring which +defies computation and equalizes the most fearful odds. Take one man, +mad with excitement or intoxication, place him with his back to the +wall, a knife in his hand, and the fire of utter frenzy in his +eyes,--and who, among the thousand bystanders, dares make the first +attempt to disarm him? Desperate courage makes one a majority. Baron +Trenck nearly escaped from the fortress of Glatz at noonday, +snatching a sword from an officer, passing all the sentinels with a +sudden rush, and almost effecting his retreat to the mountains; +"which incident will prove," he says, "that adventurous and even +rash daring will render the most improbable undertakings successful, +and that desperate attempts may often make a general more fortunate +and famous than the wisest and best-concerted plans." + +It is this miraculous quality which helps to explain the +extraordinary victories of history: as where the army of Lucullus at +Tigranocerta slew one hundred thousand barbarians with the loss of +only a hundred men,--or where Cortes conquered Mexico with six +hundred foot and sixteen horse. The astounding narratives in the +chivalry romances, where the historian risks his Palmerin or Amadis +as readily against twenty giants as one, secure of bringing him +safely through,--or the corresponding modern marvels of Alexandre +Dumas,--seem scarcely exaggerations of actual events. A Portuguese, +at the siege of Goa, inserted a burning match in a cask of gunpowder, +then grasped it in his arms, and, crying to his companions, +"Stand aside, I bear my own and many men's lives," threw it among +the enemy, of whom a hundred were killed by the explosion, the bearer +being left unhurt. John Haring, on a Flemish dyke, held a thousand +men at bay, saved his army, and finally escaped uninjured. And the +motto of Bayard, _Vires agrainis unus habet_, was given him after +singly defending a bridge against two hundred Spaniards. Such men +appear to bear charmed lives, and to be identical with the laws of +Fate. "What a soldier, what a Roman, was thy father, my young bride! +How could they who never saw him have discoursed so rightly upon +virtue?" + +From popular want of faith in these infinite resources of daring, it +is a common thing for persons of eminent courage to be stigmatized +as rash. This has been strikingly the case, for instance, in modern +times, with the Marquis of Wellesley and Sir Charles Napier. When the +Duke of Wellington was in the Peninsula in 1810, the City of London +addressed the throne, protesting against the bestowal of "honorable +distinctions upon a general who had thus far exhibited, with equal +rashness and ostentation, nothing but an useless valor." + +But if bravery is liable to exist in excess, on the one side, it is +a comfort to think that it is capable of cultivation, where deficient. +There may be a few persons born absolutely without the power of +courage, as without the susceptibility to music,--but very few; and, +no doubt, the elements of daring, like those of musical perception, +can be developed in almost all. Once rouse the enthusiasm of the will, +and courage can be systematically disciplined. Emerson's maxim gives +the best regimen: "Always do what you are afraid to do." If your lot +is laid amid scenes of peace, then carry the maxim into the arts of +peace. Are you afraid to swim that river? then swim it. Are you +afraid to leap that fence? then leap it. Do you shrink from the +dizzy height of yonder magnificent pine? then climb it, and +"throw down the top," as they do in the forests of Maine. Goethe +cured himself of dizziness by ascending the lofty stagings of the +Frankfort carpenters. Nothing is insignificant that is great enough +to alarm you. If you cannot think of a grizzly bear without a shudder, +then it is almost worth your while to travel to the Rocky Mountains +in order to encounter the reality. It is said that Van Amburgh +attributed all his power over animals to the similar rule given him +by his mother in his boyhood: "If anything frightens you, walk up +and face it." Applying this maxim boldly, he soon satisfied himself +that man possessed a natural power of control over all animals, if +he dared to exercise it. He said that every animal divined by +unerring instinct the existence of fear in his ruler, and a moment's +indecision might cost one's life. On being asked, what he should do, +if he found himself in the desert, face to face with a lion, he +answered, "If I wished for certain death, I should turn and run away." + +Physical courage may be educated; but it must be trained for its own +sake. We say again, it must not be left to moral courage to include +it, for the two faculties have different elements,--and what God has +joined, human inconsistency may put asunder. The disjunction is easy +to explain. Many men, when committed on the right side of any +question, get credit for a "moral courage," which is, in their case, +only an intense egotism, isolating them from all demand for human +sympathy. In the best cause, they prefer to belong to a party +conveniently small, and, on the slightest indications of popular +approbation, begin to suspect themselves of compromise. The abstract +martyrdom of unpopularity is therefore clear gain to them; but when +it comes to the rack and the thumbscrew, the revolver and the +bowie-knife, the same habitual egotism makes them cowards. These men +are annoying in themselves, and still worse because they throw +discredit on the noble and unselfish reformers with whom they are +identified in position. But even among this higher class there are +differences of temperament, and it costs one man an effort to face +the brute argument of the slung-shot, while another's fortitude is +not seriously tested till it comes to facing the newspaper editors. + +We have given but a few aspects of a rich and endless theme, and +have depicted these more by examples than analysis, mindful of the +saying of Sidney, that Alexander received more bravery of mind by +the example of Achilles than by hearing the definition of fortitude. +If we have seemed to draw illustrations too profusely from the +records of battles, it is to be remembered, that, even if war be not +the best nurse of heroisms, it is their best historian. The chase, +for instance, though perhaps as prolific in deeds of daring as the +camp, has found few Cummings and Gerards for annalists, and the more +trivial aim of the pursuit diminishes the permanence of its records. +The sublime fortitude of hospitals, the bravery shown in infected +cities, the fearlessness of firemen and of sailors, these belong to +those times of peace which have as yet few historians. But we have +sought to exhibit the deep foundations and instincts of courage, and +it matters little whence the illustrations come. Doubtless, for every +great deed ever narrated, there were a hundred greater ones untold; +and the noblest valor of the world may sleep unrecorded, like the +heroes before Homer. + +But there are things which, once written, the world does not +willingly let die; embalmed in enthusiasm, borne down on the +unconquerable instincts of childhood, they become imperishable and +eternal. We need not travel to visit the graves of the heroes: they +are become a part of the common air; their line is gone out to all +generations. Shakspeares are but their servants; no change of time +or degradation of circumstance can debar us from their lesson. The +fascination which every one finds in the simplest narrative of +daring is the sufficient testimony to its priceless and permanent +worth. Human existence finds its range expanded, when Demosthenes +describes Philip of Macedon, his enemy: "I saw this Philip, with +whom we disputed for empire. I saw him, though covered with wounds, +his eye struck out, his collar-bone broken, maimed in his hands, +maimed in his feet, still resolutely rush into the midst of dangers, +ready to deliver up to Fortune any part of his body she might require, +provided he might live honorably and gloriously with the rest." +Would it not be shameful, that war should leave us such memories as +these, and peace bequeathe us only money and repose? True, "peace +hath her victories, no less renowned than war." No less! but they +should be infinitely greater. _Esto miles pacificus_, "Be the +soldier of peace," was the priestly benediction of mediaeval knights; +and the aspirations of humaner ages should lead us into heroisms such +as Plutarch never portrayed, and even Bayard and Sidney only +prophesied, but died without the sight of. + + +[Footnote 1: It is worth mentioning, that among the deserters was +one valorous writing-master, who had previously prepared a +breastplate of two quires of his-own foolscap, inscribing thereon, +in his best penmanship,--"This is the body of J.M.; pray, give it +Christian burial."] + + + * * * * * + + + + + NOVEMBER. + + Much have I spoken of the faded leaf; + Long have I listened to the wailing wind, + And watched it ploughing through the heavy clouds; + For autumn charms my melancholy mind. + + When autumn comes, the poets sing a dirge: + The year must perish; all the flowers are dead; + The sheaves are gathered; and the mottled quail + Runs in the stubble, but the lark has fled! + + Still, autumn ushers in the Christmas cheer, + The holly-berries and the ivy-tree: + They weave a chaplet for the Old Year's heir; + These waiting mourners do not sing for me! + + I find sweet peace in depths of autumn woods, + Where grow the ragged ferns and roughened moss; + The naked, silent trees have taught me this,-- + The loss of beauty is not always loss! + + + + + + +A VISIT TO THE AUTOCRAT'S LANDLADY. + +_By the Special Reporter of the "Oceanic Miscellany"_. + + +The door was opened by a stout, red-armed lump of a woman, who, in +reply to my question, said her name was Bridget, but Biddy they +calls her mostly. There was a rickety hat-stand in the entry, upon +which, by the side of a schoolboy's cap, there hung a broad-brimmed +white hat, somewhat fatigued by use, but looking gentle and kindly, +as I have often noticed good old gentlemen's hats do, after they +have worn them for a time. The door of the dining-room was standing +wide open, and I went in. A long table, covered with an oil-cloth, +ran up and down the length of the room, and yellow wooden chairs were +ranged about it. She showed me where the Gentleman used to sit, and, +at the last part of the time, the Schoolmistress next to him. The +chairs were like the rest, but it was odd enough to notice that they +stood close together, touching each other, while all the rest were +straggling and separate. I observed that peculiar atmospheric flavor +which has been described by Mr. Balzac, (the French story-teller who +borrows so many things from some of our American loading writers,) +under the name of _odeur de pension_. It is, as one may say, an +olfactory perspective of an endless vista of departed breakfasts, +dinners, and suppers. It is similar, if not identical, in all +temperate climates; a kind of neutral tint, which forms the +perpetual background upon which the banquet of today strikes out +its keener but more transitory aroma. I don't think it necessary to +go into any further particulars, because this atmospheric character +has the effect of making the dining-rooms of all boarding-houses +seem very much alike; and the accident of a hair-cloth sofa, cold, +shiny, slippery, prickly,--or a veneered sideboard, with a scale off +here and there, and a knob or two missing,--or a portrait, with one +hand half under its coat, the other resting on a pious-looking book, +--these accidents, and such as these, make no great difference. + +The landlady soon presented herself, and I followed her into the +parlor, which was a decent apartment, with a smart centre-table, on +which lay an accordion, a recent number of the "Pactolian," a +gilt-edged, illustrated book or two, and a copy of the works of that +distinguished native author, to whom I feel very spiteful, on +account of his having, some years ago, attacked _a near friend of +mine_, and whom, on Christian principles, I do not mention,--though +I have noticed, that, where there is an accordion on the table, his +books are apt to be lying near it. + +The landlady was a "wilted," (not exactly withered,) sad-eyed woman, +of the thin-blooded sort, but firm-fibred, and sharpened and made +shrewd by her calling, so that the look with which she ran me over, +in the light of a possible boarder, was so searching, that I was +half put down by it. I informed her of my errand, which was to make +some inquiries concerning two former boarders of hers, in whom a +portion of the public had expressed some interest, and of whom I +should be glad to know certain personal details,--as to their habits, +appearance, and so on. Any information she might furnish would be +looked upon in the light of a literary contribution to the pages of +the "Oceanic Miscellany," and be compensated with the well-known +liberality of the publishers of that spirited, enterprising, and +very popular periodical. + +Up to this point, the landlady's countenance had kept that worried, +watchful look, which poor women, who have to fight the world +single-handed, sooner or later grow into. But now her features +relaxed a little. The blow which had crushed her life had shattered +her smile, and, as the web of shivered expression shot off its rays +across her features, I fancied that Grief had written her face all +over with 'Ws', to mark her as one of his forlorn flock of Widows. + +The report here given is partly from the conversation held with the +landlady at that time, and partly from written notes which she +furnished me; for, finding that she was to be a contributor to the +"Oceanic Miscellany," and that in that capacity she would be +entitled to the ample compensation offered by the liberal +proprietors of that admirably conducted periodical,--which we are +pleased to learn has been growing in general favor, and which, the +public may be assured, no pains will be spared to render superior in +every respect,--I say, finding that she was to be handsomely +remunerated, she entered into the subject with great zeal, both +verbally and by letter. The reader will see that I sometimes follow +her orthography, and sometimes her pronunciation, as I may have +taken it from writing or from speech. + + + + +THE LANDLADY'S ACCOUNT. + + +There is two vacant places at my table, which I should be pleased to +fill with two gentlemen, or with a gentleman and his wife, or any +respectable people, be they merried or single. It is about the +gentleman and the lady that used to set in them places, that +inquiries is bein' made. Some has wrote, and some has spoke, and a +good many folks, that was unbeknown to me, has come in and wanted to +see the place where they used to set, and some days it's been +nothin' but ring, ring, ring, from mornin' till night. + +Folks will be curious about them that has wrote in the papers. +There's my daughter couldn't be easy no way till she'd got a profeel +of one of them authors, to hang up right over the head of her bed. +That's the gentleman that writes stories in the papers, some in the +same way this gentleman did, I expect, that inquiries is made about. + +I'm a poor woman, that tries to get an honest livin', and works hard +enough for it;--lost my husband, and buried five children, and have +two livin' ones to support. It's a great loss to me, losin' them two +boarders; and if there's anything in them papers he left in that +desk that will fetch anything at any of the shops where they buy +such things, I'm sure I wish you'd ask the printer to step round +here and stop in and see what any of 'em is worth. I'll let you have +one or two of 'em, and then you can see whether you don't know +anybody that would take the lot. I suppose you'll put what I tell you +into shape, for, like as not, I sha'n't write it out nor talk jest +as folks that make books do. + +This gentleman warn't no great of a gentleman to look at. Being of a +very moderate dimension,--five foot five _he_ said, but five foot +four more likely, and I've heerd him say he didn't weigh much over a +hundred and twenty pound. He was light-complected rather than +darksome, and was one of them smooth-faced people that keep their +baird and wiskers cut close, jest as if they'd be very troublesome +if they let 'em grow,--instead of layin' out their face in grass, as +my poor husband that's dead and gone used to say. He was a +well-behaved gentleman at table, only talked a good deal, and pretty +loud sometimes, and had a way of turnin' up his nose when he didn't +like what folks said, that one of my boarders, who is a very smart +young man, said he couldn't stand, no how, and used to make faces +and poke fun at him whenever he see him do it. + +He never said a word aginst any vittles that was set before him, but +I mistrusted that he was more partickerlar in his eatin' than he +wanted folks to know of, for I've know'd him make believe to eat, +and leave the vittles on his plate when he didn't seem to fancy 'em; +but he was very careful never to hurt my feelin's, and I don't +belief he'd have spoke, if he had found a tadpole in a dish of +chowder. But nothin' could hurry him when he was about his vittles. +Many's the time I've seen that gentleman keepin' two or three of 'em +settin' round the breakfast-table after the rest had swallered their +meal, and the things was cleared off, and Bridget was a-waitin' to +get the cloth away,--and there that little man would set, with a +tumbler of sugar and water,--what he used to call O Sukray, +--a-talkin' and a-talkin',--and sometimes he would laugh, and +sometimes the tears would come into his eyes,--which was a kind of +grayish blue eyes,--and there he'd set and set, and my boy Benjamin +Franklin hangin' round and gettin' late for school and wantin' an +excuse, and an old gentleman that's one of my boarders a-listenin' +as if he wa'n't no older than my Benj. Franklin, and that +schoolmistress settin' jest as if she'd been bewitched, and you +might stick pins into her without her hollerin'. He was a master +hand to talk when he got a-goin'. But he never would have no +disputes nor long argerments at my table, and I liked him all the +better for that; for I had a boarder once that never let nothin' go +by without disputin' of it, till nobody knowed what he believed and +what he didn't believe, only they was pretty sure he didn't believe +the side he was a-disputin' for, and some of 'em said, that, if you +wanted him to go any partickerlar way, you must do with him just as +folks do that drive--well, them obstinate creeturs that squeal so,-- +for I don't like to name such creeturs in connexion with a gentleman +that paid his board regular, and was a very smart man, and knowed a +great deal, only his knowledge all laid crosswise, as one of 'em +used to say, after t'other one had shet him up till his mouth wa'n't +of no more use to him than if it had been a hole in the back of his +head. This wa'n't no sech gentleman. One of my boarders used to say +that he always said exactly what he was a mind to, and stuck his +idees out jest like them that sells pears outside their shop-winders, +--some is three cents, some is two cents, and some is only one cent, +and if you don't like, you needn't buy, but them's the articles and +them's the prices, and if you want 'em, take 'em, and if you don't, +go about your business, and don't stand mellerin' of 'em with your +thumbs all day till you've sp'ilt 'em for other folks. + +He was a man that loved to stick round home as much as any cat you +ever see in your life. He used to say he'd as lief have a tooth +pulled as go away anywheres. Always got sick, he said, when he went +away, and never sick when he didn't. Pretty nigh killed himself goin' +about lecterin' two or three winters,--talkin' in cold country +lyceums,--as he used to say,--goin' home to cold parlors and bein' +treated to cold apples and cold water, and then goin' up into a cold +bed in a cold chamber, and comin' home next mornin' with a cold in +his head as bad as the horse-distemper. Then he'd look kind of sorry +for havin' said it, and tell how kind some of the good women was to +him,--how one spread an edder-down comforter for him, and another +fixed up somethin' hot for him after the lecter, and another one said, +--"There now, you smoke that cigar of yours after the lecter, jest +as if you was at home,"--and if they'd all been like that, he'd have +gone on lectering forever, but, as it was, he had got pooty nigh +enough of it, and preferred a nateral death to puttin' himself out +of the world by such violent means as lecterin'. + +He used to say that he was always good company enough, if he wasn't +froze to death, and if he wasn't pinned in a corner so't he couldn't +clear out when he'd got as much as he wanted. But he was a dreadful +uneven creetur in his talk, and I've heerd a smart young man that's +one of my boarders say, he believed he had a lid to the top of his +head, and took his brains out and left 'em up-stairs sometimes when +he come down in the mornin'.--About his ways, he was spry and quick +and impatient, and, except in a good company,--he used to say,--where +he could get away at any minute, he didn't like to set still very +long to once, but wanted to be off walkin', or rowin' round +in one of them queer boats of his, and he was the solitariest +creetur in his goin's about (except when he could get that +schoolmistress to trail round with him) that ever you see in your +life. He used to say that usin' two eyes and two legs at once, and +keepin' one tongue a-goin', too, was too sharp practice for him; so +he had a way of dodgin' round all sorts of odd streets, I've heerd +say, where he wouldn't meet people that would stick to him. + +It didn't take much to please him. Sometimes it would be a big book +he'd lug home, and sometimes it would be a mikerscope, and sometimes +it would be a dreadful old-lookin' fiddle that he'd picked up +somewhere, and kept a-screechin' on, sayin' all the while that it +was jest as smooth as a flute. Then ag'in I'd hear him laughin' out +all alone, and I'd go up and find him readin' some verses that he'd +been makin'. But jest as like as not I'd go in another time, and +find him cryin',--but he'd wipe his eyes and try not to show it, +--and it was all nothin' but some more verses he'd been a-writin'. +I've heerd him say that it was put down in one of them ancient books, +that a man must cry, himself, if he wants to make other folks cry; +but, says he, you can't make 'em neither laugh nor cry, if you don't +try on them feelin's yourself before you send your work to the +customers. + +He was a temperate man, and always encouraged temperance by drinkin' +jest what he was a mind to, and that was generally water. You +couldn't scare him with names, though. I remember a young minister +that's go'n' to be, that boards at my house, askin' once what was +the safest strong drink for them that had to take somethin' for the +stomach's sake and thine awful infirmities. _Aqua fortis_, says he, +--because you know that'll eat your insides out, if you get it too +strong, and so you always mind how much you take. Next to that, says +he, rum's the safest for a wise man, and small beer for a fool. + +I never mistrusted anything about him and that schoolmistress till I +heerd they was keepin' company and was go'n' to be merried. But I +might have knowed it well enough by his smartin' himself up the way +he did, and partin' the hair on the back of his head, and gettin' a +blue coat with brass buttons, and wearin' them dreadful tight little +French boots that used to stand outside his door to be blacked, and +stickin' round schoolma'am, and follerin' of her with his eyes; but +then he was always fond of ladies, and used to sing with my daughter, +and wrote his name out in a blank book she keeps,--them that has +daughters of their own will keep their eyes on 'em,--and I've often +heerd him say he was fond of music and picters,--and she worked a +beautiful pattern for a chair of his once, that he seemed to set a +good deal by; but I ha'n't no fault to find, and there is them that +my daughter likes and them that likes her. + +As to schoolma'am, I ha'n't a word to say that a'n't favorable, and +don't harbor no unkind feelin' to her, and never knowed them that did. +When she first come to board at my house, I hadn't any idee she'd +live long. She was all dressed in black; and her face looked so +delicate, I expected before six months was over to see a plate of +glass over it, and a Bible and a bunch of flowers layin' on the lid +of the--well, I don't like to talk about it; for when she first come, +and said her mother was dead, and she was alone in the world, except +one sister out West, and unlocked her trunk and showed me her things, +and took out her little purse and showed me her money, and said that +was all the property she had in the world but her courage and her +education, and would I take her and keep her till she could get some +scholars,--I couldn't say not one word, but jest went up to her and +kissed her and bu'st out a-cryin' so as I never cried since I buried +the last of my five children that lays in the buryin'-ground with +their father, and a place for one more grown person betwixt him and +the shortest of them five graves, where my baby is waitin' for its +mother. + +[The landlady stopped here and shed a few still tears, such as poor +women who have been wrung out almost dry by fierce griefs lose calmly, +without sobs or hysteric convulsions, when they show the scar of a +healed sorrow.] + +--The schoolma'am had jest been killin' herself for a year and a +half with waitin' and tendin' and watchin' with that sick mother +that was dead now and she was in mournin' for. _She_ didn't say so, +but I got the story out of her, and then I knowed why she looked so +dreadful pale and poor. By-and-by she begun to get some scholars, +and then she would come home sometimes so weak and faint that I was +afraid she would drop. One day I handed her a bottle of camphire to +smell of, and she took a smell of it, and I thought she'd have +fainted right away.--Oh, says she, when she come to, I've breathed +that smell for a whole year and more, and it kills me to breathe it +again! + +The fust thing that ever I see pass between the gentleman inquiries +is made about, and her, was on occasion of his makin' some very +searchin' remarks about griefs, sech as loss of friends and so on. I +see her fix her eye steady on him, and then she kind of trembled and +turned white, and the next thing I knew was she was all of a heap on +the floor. I remember he looked into her face then and seemed to be +seized as if it was with a start or spasm-like,--but I thought nothin' +more of it, supposin' it was because he felt so bad at makin' her +faint away. + +Some has asked me what kind of a young woman she was to look at. Well, +folks differ as to what is likely and what is homely. I've seen them +that was as pretty as picters in my eyes: cheeks jest as rosy as +they could be, and hair all shiny and curly, and little mouths with +lips as red as sealin'-wax, and yet one of my boarders that had a +great name for makin' marble figgers would say such kind of good +looks warn't of no account. I knowed a young lady once that a man +drownded himself because she wouldn't marry him, and she might have +had her pick of a dozen, but I didn't call her anything great in the +way of looks. + +All I can say is, that, whether she was pretty or not, she looked +like a young woman that knowed what was true and that loved what was +good, and she had about as clear an eye and about as pleasant a +smile as any man ought to want for every-day company. I've seen a +good many young ladies that could talk faster than she could; but if +you'd seen her or heerd her when our boardin'-house caught afire, or +when there was anything to be done besides speech-makin', I guess +you'd like to have stood still and looked on, jest to see that young +woman's way of goin' to work.--Dark, rather than light; and slim, +but strong in the arms,--perhaps from liftin' that old mother about; +for I've seen her heavin' one end of a big heavy chest round that I +shouldn't have thought of touchin',--and yet her hands was little +and white.--Dressed very plain, but neat, and wore her hair smooth. I +used to wonder sometimes she didn't wear some kind of ornaments, +bein' a likely young woman, and havin' her way to make in the world, +and seein' my daughter wearin' jewelry, which sets her off so much, +every day. She never would,--nothin' but a breastpin with her +mother's hair in it, and sometimes one little black cross. That made +me think she was a Roman Catholic, especially when she got a picter +of the Virgin Mary and hung it up in her room; so I asked her, and +she shook her head and said these very words,--that she never saw a +church-door so narrow she couldn't go in through it, nor so wide +that all the Creator's goodness and glory could enter it; and then +she dropped her eyes and went to work on a flannel petticoat she was +makin',--which I knowed, but she didn't tell me, was for a poor old +woman. + +I've said enough about them two boarders, but I believe it's all true. +Their places is vacant, and I should be very glad to fill 'em with +two gentlemen, or with a gentleman and his wife, or any respectable +people, be they merried or single. + +I've heerd some talk about a friend of that gentleman's comin' to +take his place. + +That's the gentleman that he calls "the Professor," and I'm sure I +hope there is sech a man; only all I can say is, I never see him, +and none of my boarders ever see him, and that smart young man that +I was speakin' of says he don't believe there's no sech person as him, +nor that other one that he called "the Poet." I don't much care +whether folks professes or makes poems, if they makes themselves +agreeable and pays their board regular. I'm a poor woman, that tries +to get an honest livin', and works hard enough for it; lost my +husband, and buried five children.... .... + +Excuse me, dear Madam, I said,--looking at my watch,--but you spoke +of certain papers which your boarder left, and which you were ready +to dispose of for the pages of the "Oceanic Miscellany." + +The landlady's face splintered again into the wreck of the broken +dimples of better days.--She should be much obleeged, if I would +look at them, she said,--and went up stairs and got a small desk +containing loose papers. I looked them hastily over, and selected +one of the shortest pieces, handed the landlady a check which +astonished her, and send the following poem as an appendix to my +report. If I should find others adapted to the pages of the spirited +periodical which has done so much to develop and satisfy the +intellectual appetite of the American public, and to extend the name +of its enterprising publishers throughout the reading world, I shall +present them in future numbers of the "Oceanic Miscellany." + + +THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA. + +A NIGHTMARE DREAM BY DAYLIGHT. + + + Do you know the Old Man of the Sea, of the Sea? + Have you met with that dreadful old man? + If you haven't been caught, you will be, you will be; + For catch you he must and he can. + + He doesn't hold on by your throat, by your throat, + As of old in the terrible tale; + But he grapples you tight by the coat, by the coat, + Till its buttons and button-holes fail. + + There's the charm of a snake in his eye, in his eye, + And a polypus-grip in his hands; + You cannot go back, nor get by, nor get by, + If you look at the spot where he stands. + + Oh, you're grabbed! See his claw on your sleeve, on your sleeve! + It is Sinbad's Old Man of the Sea! + You're a Christian, no doubt you believe, you believe;-- + You're a martyr, whatever you be! + + --Is the breakfast-hour past? They must wait, they must wait, + While the coffee boils sullenly down, + While the Johnny-cake burns on the grate, on the grate, + And the toast is done frightfully brown. + + --Yes, your dinner will keep; let it cool, let it cool. + And Madam may worry and fret, + And children half-starved go to school, go to school;-- + He can't think of sparing you yet. + + --Hark! the bell for the train! "Come along! Come along! + For there isn't a second to lose." + "ALL ABOARD!" (He holds on.) "Fsht! ding-dong! Fsht! ding-dong!"-- + You can follow on foot, if you choose. + + --There's a maid with a cheek like a peach, like a peach, + That is waiting for you in the church;-- + But he clings to your side like a leech, like a leech, + And you leave your lost bride in the lurch. + + --There's a babe in a fit,--hurry quick! hurry quick! + To the doctor's as fast as you can! + The baby is off, while you stick, while you stick, + In the grip of the dreadful Old Man! + + --I have looked on the face of the Bore, of the Bore; + The voice of the Simple I know; + I have welcomed the Flat at my door, at my door; + I have sat by the side of the Slow; + + I have walked like a lamb by the friend, by the friend, + That stuck to my skirts like a burr; + I have borne the stale talk without end, without end, + Of the sitter whom nothing could stir: + + But my hamstrings grow loose, and I shake and I shake, + At the sight of the dreadful Old Man; + Yea, I quiver and quake, and I take, and I take, + To my legs with what vigor I can! + + Oh, the dreadful Old Man of the Sea, of the Sea! + He's come back like the Wandering Jew! + He has had his cold claw upon me, upon me,-- + And be sure that he'll have it on you! + + + * * * * * + + + + +THE GREAT EVENT OF THE CENTURY. + +A LETTER FROM PAUL TOTTER, OF NEW YORK, TO THE DON ROBERTO WAGONERO, +COMMORANT OF WASHINGTON, IN THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA. + +22,728 Five Hundred and Fifty-First St., New York, May 1, 1858. + +Dear Don Bobus,--Pardon my abruptness. _In medias res_ is the rule, +you know, _formose puer_, my excellent old boy! Bring out the Saint +Peray, if there be a bottle of that flavorous and flavous tipple in +your extensive cellars,--which I doubt, since you never had more +than a single flask thereof, presented to you by a returned traveller, +who bought it, to my certain knowledge, of a mixer in Congress Street, +in Boston. We drank it, O ale-knight, _sub teg. pat. fag._ more +than five years ago, of a summer evening, in dear old Cambridge, then +undisfigured by the New Chapel. That it did not kill us as dead as +Stilpo of Megara (_vide_ Seneca _de Const_. for a notice of that +foolish old Stoic) was entirely owing to my abstinence and your +naturally strong constitution; for I remember that you bolted nearly +the whole of it. You proved yourself to be a Mithridates of white +lead; while I--but I say no more. I could quote you an appropriate +passage from the tippler of Teos, and in the original Greek, if I +had not long ago pawned my copy of Anacreon (Barnes, 12 mo. Cantab. +1721) to a fellow in Cornhill, who sold it on the very next day to +a total-abstinence tutor. Episodically I may say, that the purchaser +read it to such purpose, that within a week he rose to the honor of +sleeping in the station-house, from which keep he was rescued by a +tearful friend, who sent him to the country, solitude, and +spruce-beer. + +"It is useless," says the Staggerite, "for a sober man to knock at +the door of the Muses." It may also be useless for a sober man to +try to write letters to "The New York Scorpion." In your perilous +and unhappy situation you must be a rule unto yourself. But remember, +O Bobus, the saying of Montaigne, that "apoplexy will knock down +Socrates as well as a porter." You are not exactly Socrates; but +your best friends have remarked that you are getting to be +exceedingly stout. Stick to your cups, but forbear, as Milton says, +"to interpose them oft." _In medio tutissimus_,--Half a noggin is +better than no wine. For the sake of the dear old times, spare me the +pain of seeing you a reformed inebriate or a Martha Washington! + +Between Drunken Barnaby and Neal Dow there is, I trust, a position +which a gentleman may occupy. Because I have a touch of Charles +Surface in my constitution, I need not make a Toodles of myself. So +bring out the smallest canakin and let it clink softly,--for I have +news to tell you. + +I remember, Bob, my boy, once upon a certain Fourth of July,--I +leave the particular Fourth as indefinite as Mr. Webster's "_some_ +Fourth" upon which we were to go to war with England,--while there was +a tintinnabulation of the bells, and an ear-splitting tantivy of brass +bands, and an explosion of squibs, which, properly engineered, would +have prostrated the great Chinese Wall, or the Porcelain Tower itself, +--in short, a noise loud enough to make a Revolutionary patriot turn +with joy in his coffin,--that I left my Pottery, after dutifully +listening to Mrs. Potter's performance of twenty-eight brilliant +variations, _pour le piano_, on "Yankee Doodle," by H. Hertz, +(_Op_. 22,378,)--and sought the punches and patriotism, the +joy and the juleps of the Wagonero Cottage. I found you, Bobus, +as cool as if Fahrenheit and Reaumur were not bursting around you. +Well do I remember the patriarchal appearance which you presented, +seated in your own garden, (I think you took the prize for pompions +at the county exhibition soon after,) under your own wide-spreading +elm-tree, reading for facts in one of those confounded cigars, with +which, being proof against them yourself, you were in the habit of +poisoning your friends. Solitary and alone, you would have reminded +me of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,--three distinguished heads of families +rolled into one,--but, surrounded as you were by the fruits of a happy +union, the triple comparison was not to be resisted. Notwithstanding +your hearty welcome, I was a little dispirited,--for I had come from a +childless home. God had taken my sole little lamb,--and many miles +away, with none to care for the flowers which in the first winter of +our bereavement we had scattered upon her rounded grave, she who was +the light of our eyes was sleeping. And while we were thus stricken +and lonesome and desolate, your quiver was full and running over. I do +not mind saying now, that I envied you, as I distributed the squibs, +rockets, and other pyrotechnical fodder which I had brought in my +pocket for your flock. I gulped it all down, however, with a pretty +good grace, and went to my dinner like a philosopher. Do you not +remember that I was particularly brilliant upon that occasion, and that +I told my best story only three times in the course of the evening? +I flatter myself that I know how to conceal my feelings,--although +I punished your claret cruelly, and was sick after it. + +I have a notion, dear Don, that I am not writing very coherently, +as you, whether _pransus_ or _impransus_, almost always do. Under +agitating circumstances you are cool, and I verily think that you +would have reported the earthquake at Lisbon without missing one +squashed _hidalgo_, one drop of the blue blood spilt, one convent +unroofed, or one convent belle damaged. Your report would have been +minutely circumstantial enough to have found favor with Samuel Johnson, +LL.D., who for so long a time refused to believe in the Portuguese +convulsion. But we are not all fit by nature to put about butter-tubs +in July. I plead guilty to an excitable temperament. The Bowery youth +here speak of a kind of perspiration which, metaphorically, they +designate as "a cast-iron sweat." This for the last twelve hours has been +my own agonizing style of exudation. And, moreover, the startling event +of which I am to write has (to borrow again from the sage Montaigne) +created in me "so many chimeras and fantastic monsters, one upon another, +without design or order, that, the better at leisure to contemplate their +strangeness and absurdity, I have begun to commit them to writing, +hoping in time to make them ashamed of themselves." The novelty of +my position causes me to shamble and shuffle, now to pause painfully, +and then to dance like a droll. I go out from the presence of my +household, that I may vent myself by private absurdities and +exclusive antics, I retire into remote corners, that I may grin +fearfully, unseen of Mistress Gamp and my small servant. I am +possessed by a shouting devil, who is continually prompting me to +give the "hip-hip-hurrah!" under circumstances which might split +apex and base of several of my most important arteries,--which +might bring on apoplexy, epilepsy, suffusion of the brain, or +hernia,--which might cause death,--yes, Sir,--death of the mother, +father, and child. + +--Really, good friends, I ask your pardon! I do not know what I have +done. Did I collar you, Dr. Slop? Send in your bill tomorrow! Did I +smash the instruments beyond repair? And should you say now,--just +speaking off-hand,--that two hundred and fifty dollars would be +money enough to repair them? Of course, I can commit highway robbery, +if it be absolutely necessary. My dear Mrs. Gamp, I fully appreciate +the propriety of your suggestions. You want one quart of gin;--I +comprehend. Shall it be your Hollands, your Aromatic Scheidam, your +Nantz, or our own proud Columbian article? You want one quart of rum, +_potus e saccharo confectus!_ You want one quart of brandy. You +want one gallon of wine. You want a dozen of brown-stout. You +want the patent vulcanized India-rubber pump. You want anise,-- +_pimpinella anisum_;--I comprehend. You want castor-oil,--a very +fine medicine indeed,--I tasted it myself when a boy. You want +magnesia. You want the patent Vesuvian night-lamp. Madam, that +volcanic utensil shall be forthcoming. + +Do I rave, Don Bob? Has reason caught the royal trick of the century, +and left her throne? Let me be calm, as becometh one suddenly +swelled into ancestral proportions! This small lump of red clay +shall inherit my name, and my estate, which I now seriously purpose +to acquire. For her will I labor. For her I will gorge "The Clarion" +with leading articles. For her I will write the long dreamed-of poem +in twenty-four parts. For her I will besiege the private dens of my +friends the booksellers. Dear, helpless little atomy! infinitesimal +object of love! bud, germ, seed, blossom, tidbit, morsel, mannikin, +tomtit, abbreviation, concentration, quintessence! tiny _multum in +parvo!_ charming diamond edition! thou small, red possibility! +weeping promise of glad days to come! For thee will I put the world +under contribution! For thee will I master 'pathy and 'logy and +'nomy and 'sophy! All was and is for thee! For thee sages have +written; for thee science has toiled; for thee looms are clanking, +ships are sailing, and strong men laboring! Thou art born to a +fortune better than one of gold! I am but thy servant, to bring all +treasures and lay them at thy feet! Be remorseless, exacting, greedy +of our love and our lore! Come, young queen, into thy queendom! All +is thine! + +Bobus, my friend, you undoubtedly think that I am beside myself. You +are a tough, knotty old tree, and I have only one tender shoot. You +may sneer, or you may pity,--I care not one baubee for your praise +or your blame. I shall take my own course. I feel my responsibility, +Sir! I shall not come to you for advice! I shall pursue the path of +duty, Sir!--Come to you, forsooth! What could you give? A lot of +rubbish from Confucius, with a farrago of useless knowledge anent +the breeching and birching of babies in Japan. I shall seek original +sources of information. What do you know, for instance, of lactation +and the act of sucking, Sir? I have been, like a good Christian, to +my Paley already. Hear the Archdeacon of Carlisle! "The teeth are +formed within the gums, and there they stop; the fact being, that +their farther advance to maturity would not only be useless to the +new-born animal, but extremely in its way; as it is evident that the +act of _sucking_, by which it is for some time to be nourished, will +be performed with more ease, both to the nurse and to the infant, +whilst the inside of the mouth and edges of the gums are smooth and +soft, than if set with hard-pointed bones. By the time they are +wanted, the teeth are ready." Now, dear Don, is not that an +interesting piece of information? You are not a mother, and probably +you never will be one; but can you imagine anything more unpleasant +to the maternal sensibilities than a child born with teeth? Mentally +and prophetically unpleasant, as suggestive of the amiable Duke of +Gloser, who came into the world grinning at dentists; physically +unpleasant, in respect of bites, and the impossibility of emulating +the complying conduct of Osric the water-fly, whose early politeness +was vouched for by the Lord Hamlet. Bethink you, moreover, Don, of a +wailing infant, full furnished with two rows of teeth--and nothing +to masticate! whereas he must have been more cruel than the +"parient" of the Dinah celebrated in song as the young lady who did +not marry Mr. Villikins, that does not have something ready for them +to do by the time the molars and bicuspids appear. I know the perils +of dentition. But have we not the whole family of carminatives? Did +the immortal Godfrey live and die in vain? Did not a kind Providence +vouchsafe to us a Daffy? Are there not corals? Are there not +India-rubber rings? And is there not the infinite tenderness and +pity which we learn for the small, wailing sufferer, as, during the +night which is not stilly, while the smouldering wick paints you, an +immense, peripatetic _silhouette_, upon the wall, you pace to and +fro the haunted chamber, and sing the song your mother sang while +you were yet a child? What a noble privilege of martyrdom! What but +parental love, deathless and irresistible, could tempt you thus, +in drapery more classical than comfortable, to brave all dangers, +to aggravate your rheumatism, to defy that celebrated god, +Tirednature'ssweetrestorer, and to take your snatches of sleep +_a pied_, a kind of fatherly walking Stewart, as if you were doing +your thousand miles in a thousand hours for a thousand dollars, and +were sure of winning the money? Believe me, my friend, the world has +many such martyrs, unknown, obscure, suffering men, whose names Rumor +never blows through her miserable conch-shell,--and I am one of them. +As Bully Bertram says, in Maturin's pimento play,--"I am a wretch, +and proud of wretchedness." A child, the offspring of your own loins, +is something worth watching for. Such a father is your true Tapley; +--there _is_ some credit in coming out jolly under such circumstances. +The unnatural parent, as those warning cries break the silence, may +counterfeit Death's counterfeit, and may even be guilty of the +surpassing iniquity of simulating a snore. _Nunquam dormio_; I am +like "The Sun" newspaper,--sleepless, tireless, disturbed, but +imperturbable. I meet my fate, and find the pang a pleasant one. And +so may I ever be, through all febrile, cutaneous, and flatulent +vicissitudes,--careful of chicken-pox, mild with mumps and measles, +unwearied during the weaning, growing tenderer with each succeeding +rash, kinder with every cold, gentler with every grief, and +sweeter-tempered with every sorrow sent to afflict my little woman! +'Tis a rough world. We must acclimate her considerately. + +Of the matter of education I also have what are called "views." I +may be peculiar. School-committee-men who spell Jerusalem with a G, +drill-sergeants who believe in black-boards and visible numerators, +statistical fellows who judge of the future fate of the republic by +the average attendance at the "Primaries," may not agree with me in +my idea of bending the twig. I do believe, that, if Dame Nature +herself should apply for a school, some of these wise Dogberries +would report her "unqualyfide." I will not murder my pretty pet. +So she be gentle, kindly, and loving, what care I if at sixteen +years of age she cannot paint the baptism of John upon velvet, +does not know a word of that accursed French language, breaks +down in the "forward and back" of a cotillon, and cannot with +spider fingers spin upon the piano the swiftest Tarantelle of +Chopin.--[Illustration: musical note] = 2558 Metronome? We will +find something better and braver than all that, my little Alice! +Confound your Italianos!--the birds shall be the music-masters of +my tiny dame. Moonrise, and sunset, and the autumnal woods shall teach +her tint and tone. The flowers are older than the school-botanies;-- +she shall give them pet names at her own sweet will. We will not go +to big folios to find out the big Latin names of the butterflies; +but be sure, pet, they and you shall be better acquainted. And +long before you have acquired that most profitless of all arts, +the art of reading, we will go very deeply into ancient English +literature. There is the story of the enterprising mouse, who, +at one o'clock precisely, ran down the clock to the cabalistic tune +of "Dickory, dickory, dock." There are the bold bowl-mariners of +Gotham. There is "the man of our town," who was unwise enough to +destroy the organs of sight by jumping into a bramble-bush, and who +came triumphantly out of the experiment, and "scratched them in again," +by boldly jumping into another bush,--the oldest discoverer on +record of the doctrine that _similia similibus curantur_. There are +Jack and Gill, who, not living in the days of the Cochituate, went +up the hill for water, and who, in descending, met with cerebral +injuries. There are the dietetic difficulties of Mr. and Mrs. Sprat, +with the happy solution of a problem at one time threatening the +domestic peace of this amiable pair. Be sure, little woman, we will +find merry morsels in the silly-wise book! And there will be other +silly-wise books. Cinderella shall again lose her slipper, and marry +the prince; the wolf shall again eat little Red Ridinghood; and the +small eyes grow big at the adventures of Sinbad, the gallant tar. +Will not this be better, Don Bob, than pistil and stamen and radicle? +--than wearing out BBB lead pencils in drawing tumble-down castles, +rickety cottages, and dumpling-shaped trees?--than acquiring a +language which has no literature fit for a girl to read?--than +mistressing the absurd modern piano music?--than taking diplomas +from institutes, which most certainly do not express all that young +women learn in those venerable seats of learning? We will not put +stays upon our pet until we are obliged to do so. Birdie shall abide +in the paternal nest, and sing the old home-songs, and walk in the +old home-ways, until she has a nice new nest of her own. + +Do I dote, Don Bob? Is there a smirk, a villanous, unfeeling, +disagreeable, cynical sneer, lurking under your confounded moustache? +I know you of old, you miserable, mocking Mephistopheles!--you +sneerer, you scoffer, you misbeliever! No more of that, or I will +travel three hundred miles expressly to break your head. Take a +glass of claret, Bob, and be true to your better nature; for I +suppose you have a better nature packed away somewhere, if one could +but get at it. Those who have no children may laugh, but as a +_paterfamilias_ you should be ashamed to do so. And after all, this +is a pretty serious business. As I sit here and dream and hope and +pray, and try to compute the infinite responsibility which has come +with this infinite joy, I am very humble, and I murmur, "Who is +sufficient? who is sufficient?" And if you will look at the +right-hand corner of this page, you will find a great splashy blot. +Lachrymal, Bob, upon my word! 'Tis time to write "Yours, &c." +Moreover, I am needed for some duty in the nursery. Pleasant dreams! +Health and happiness to Senora Wagonero, and all the little +doubleyous. With assurances, &c., I remain, &c., &c., + + PAUL POTTER. + +P.S.--Could you tell me the precise age at which Japanese children +begin to learn the use of globes? + +P.P.S.--Do Spanish nurses use Daffy? Is there any truth in the +statement of Don Lopez Cervantes Murillo, that Columbus was +"brought up by hand"? + +P.P.P.S.--Could you give me the aggregate weight of all the children +born in the Island of Formosa, from 1692 to the present time, with +the proportion of the sexes, and the average annual mortality, and +any other perfectly useless information respecting that island? + + P. P. + + + THE LAST LOOK. + + Naushon, September 22d, 1858. + + Behold--not him we knew! + This was the prison which his soul looked through, + Tender, and brave, and true. + + His voice no more is heard; + And his dead name--that dear familiar word-- + Lies on our lips unstirred. + + He spake with poet's tongue; + Living, for him the minstrel's lyre was strung: + He shall not die unsung! + + Grief tried his love, and pain; + And the long bondage of his martyr-chain + Vexed his sweet soul,--in vain! + + It felt life's surges break, + As, girt with stormy seas, his island lake, + Smiling while tempests wake. + + How can we sorrow more? + Grieve not for him whose heart had gone before + To that untrodden shore! + + Lo, through its leafy screen, + A gleam of sunlight on a ring of green, + Untrodden, half unseen! + + Here let his body rest, + Where the calm shadows that his soul loved best + May slide above his breast. + + Smooth his uncurtained bed; + And if some natural tears are softly shed, + It is not for the dead. + + Fold the green turf aright + For the long hours before the morning's light, + And say the last Good Night! + + And plant a clear white stone + Close by those mounds which hold his loved, his own,-- + Lonely, but not alone. + + Here let him sleeping lie, + Till Heaven's bright watchers slumber in the sky, + And Death himself shall die! + + + + + +A SAMPLE OF CONSISTENCY. + + +Mr. Caleb Cushing,--"the Ajax of the Union," as he has lately been +styled,--for what reason we know not, unless that Ajax is chiefly +known to the public as a personage very much in want of light,--Mr. +Caleb Cushing has received an invitation to dine in South Carolina. +This extraordinary event, while it amply accounts for the appearance +of the comet, must also be held to answer for the publication by +Mr. Cushing of a letter almost as long, if not quite so transparent, +as the comet's tail. Craytonville is the name of the happy village, +already famous as "the place of the nativity" of Mr. Speaker Orr, +and hereafter to be a shrine of pilgrimage, as the spot where +Mr. Cushing might have gone through the beautiful natural processes +of mastication and deglutition, had he chosen. We use this elegant +Latinism in deference to Mr. Ex-Commissioner Cushing; for, as he +evidently deemed "birth-place" too simple a word for such a complex +character as Mr. Orr, we could not think of coupling his own name +with so common a proceeding as eating his dinner. It may be +sectionalism in us,--but, at the risk of dissolving the Union, we +will not yield to any Southern man a larger share of the dictionary +(unless it be Webster's) than we give to a gentleman who was born at +--we beg pardon, the place of whose nativity was--Newburyport. + +Mr. Cushing has distinguished himself lately as the preacher-up of a +crusade against modern philanthropy; and we do not wonder at it, if +the offer of a dinner be so rare as to demand in acknowledgment a +letter three columns long. Or perhaps he considered the offer itself +as an instance of that insane benevolence which he reprobates, and +accordingly punished it with an epistle the reading of which would +delay the consummation of the edacious treason till all the meats +were cold and the more impatient conspirators driven from the table. +Or were those who had invited him _negrophilists_, (to use +Mr. Cushing's favorite word,) and therefore deserving of such +retribution? Not at all; they were all _leucophilists_, as +sincere and warm-hearted as himself. Or perhaps this letter +expresses Mr. Cushing's notion of what a proper answer to a +dinner-invitation should be. We have no "Complete Letter-Writer" +at hand, and consequently cannot compare it with any classic models; +but, if we remember rightly, that useful book is not in as many +volumes as the Catalogue of the British Museum is to be, and +the examples there given must necessarily be denied so sea-serpentine +a voluminousness. We suspect that the style is original with the +Ex-Brigadier-Attorney-General, but, while we allow it the merit of +novelty, we think there are some grave objections to its universal +adoption. It would be a great check on hospitality; for, by parity +of reason, the invitation should be as tedious as the reply, and a +treaty of dinner would take nearly as much time as a treaty of peace. +This would be a great damage to the butchers, whose interests +(to borrow a bit of political economy from Mr. Cushing's letter) are +complementary to those of the dinner-giver and the diner. Again, it +would be fatal to all conversation, supposing the dinner at last to +take place; for the Amphitryon, on the one hand, has already +exploited everything he knows and does not know, from Sanconiathon, +Manetho, and Berosus, to Dr. Hickok,--and the guests--but the +thought of their united efforts is too appalling. In short, (if we +may use that term in connection with such a subject,) we cannot +believe, and certainly do not hope, that Mr. Cushing's system will +ever become popular. Even if it should, we think that an improvement +upon it might be suggested. We subjoin a form of invitation and +answer, which any of our readers are at liberty to use, if they +should ever need them. + +_Punkinopolis_, 28th Sept., 1858. + +My dear N. N., + +I send, by the bearer, the Correspondence of Horace Walpole and +Burke's "Letters on a Regicide Peace" which are, probably, as +entertaining and eloquent as anything I could write. I send also +Cicero "De Amicitia," Brillat-Savarin's "Physiologie du Gout" the +Works of Athenaeus, and the "Banquet" of Plato. If, after a perusal +of these works, you are not convinced that I entertain the most +friendly feelings towards you, and that I wish you to dine with me +on this day twelvemonth, I do not know what further arguments to +employ. + +Yours faithfully, + +&c. &c. + + + +Baldeagleville, Feb. 10, 1859. + +My dear &c. &c., + +The wagon, which accompanies this, will bring you a copy of the +"Encyclopaedia Britannica." The reading of this choice morceau of +contemporary literature will suggest to you nearly all I have to say +in reply to your interesting communication of the 28th September +last. By reading, in succession, the articles Confucius, +Fortification, Sandwich Islands, and AEsthetics, you will form some +notion of the mingled emotions with which I remain: + +Yours truly, + +N.N. + +P. S. The amount of time required for mastering the Greek language, +in order thoroughly to enjoy some passages of your charming note, +alone prevents me from sending so full an answer as I should wish. + +In these days, when everybody's correspondence is published as soon +as he is dead,--or during his life, if he is unfortunate enough to +be the Director of an Observatory, and there is a chance of injuring +him by the breach of confidence,--we cannot help thinking that the +forms we have given above are not only more compendious, but safer, +than Mr. Cushing's. If his method should come into vogue, posterity +would be deprived of the letters of this generation for nearly a +century by the time necessary to print them, and then, allowing for +the imperious intervals of sleep, would hardly contrive to get +through them in less than a couple of centuries more. We leave to +those who have read Mr. Cushing's reply to the Craytonville +invitation the painful task of estimating the loss to the world from +such a contingency. Meanwhile, the perplexing question arises,--If +such be the warrior-statesman's measure of gratitude for a dinner, +what would be his scale for a breakfast or a dish of tea? Caesar +announced a victory in three words; but in this respect he was very +inferior to Mr. Cushing, whose style is much more copious, and who +shows as remarkable talents in the command of language as the other +general did in the command of troops. + +On first reading Mr. Cushing's letter, its obscurity puzzled us not +a little. There are passages in it that would have pleased Lycophron +himself, who wished he might be hanged if anybody could understand +his poem. Dilution was to be expected in a production whose author +had to make three columns out of "Thank you, can't come." Even a +person overrunning with the milk of human kindness, as Mr. Cushing, +on so remarkable an occasion, undoubtedly was, might be pardoned for +adopting the shift of dealers in the dearer vaccine article, and +reinforcing his stores from a friendly pump. The expansiveness of +the heart would naturally communicate itself to the diction. But, +on the other hand, repeated experiments failed to detect even the +most watery flavor of conviviality in the composition. The epistles +of Jacob Behmen himself are not farther removed from any +contamination with the delights of sense. Was this, then, a mere +Baratarian banquet, a feast of reason, to which Mr. Cushing had +been invited? Or did he intend to pay an indirect tribute of respect +to his ancestry by sending what would produce all the hilarious effect +of one of those interminable Puritan graces before meat? No, the +dinner was a real dinner,--the well-known hospitality of South Carolina +toward Massachusetts ambassadors forbids any other supposition,--and +Mr. Cushing's letter itself, however dark in some particulars, is +clear enough in renouncing every principle and practice of the founders +of New England. We must find, therefore, some other reason why the +Ex-Commander of the Palmetto Regiment, when the Carolinians ask the +pleasure of his society, gives them instead the agreeable relaxation +of a sermon,--an example which, we trust, will not prove infectious +among the clergy. + +It occurred to us suddenly that the next Democratic National +Convention is to assemble in Charleston. It is not, therefore, too +early to send in sealed proposals for the Presidency; and if this +letter is Mr. Cushing's bid, we must do him the justice to say that +we think nobody will be found to go lower. We doubt if it will avail +him much; but the precedent of Northern politicians going South for +wool and coming back shorn is so long established, that a lawyer like +himself will hardly venture to take exception to it. Like his great +namesake, the son of Jephunneh, he may bring back a gigantic bunch +of grapes from this land of large promise and small fulfilment, but +we fear they will be of the variety which sets the teeth on edge, +and fills the belly with that east wind which might have been had +cheaper at home. + +If, nevertheless, Mr. Cushing is desirous of being a candidate, it +is worth while to consider what would be the principles on which he +would administer the government, and what are his claims to the +confidence of the public. We are beginning to discover that the +personal character of the President has a great deal to do with the +conduct of the almost irresponsible executive head of the Republic. +What, then, have been Mr. Cushing's political antecedents, and what +is his present creed? + +There are many points of resemblance between his character and +career and those of the present Chancellor of the English Exchequer. +Belonging to a part of the country whose opinions are to all intents +and purposes politically proscribed, he has gone over to a party +whose whole policy has tended to harass the commerce, to cripple the +manufactures, and to outrage the moral sense of New England, and has +won advancement and prominence in that party by his talents, +contriving at the same time to make his origin a service rather than +a detriment. Like Mr. Disraeli, he has been consistent only in +devotion to success. Like him, accomplished, handsome, plucky, +industrious, and dangerous, if unconvincing, in debate, he brings to +bear on every question the immediate force of personal courage and +readiness, but none of that force drawn from persistent principle, +whose defeats are tutorings for victory. With a quick eye for the +weak point of an enemy, and a knack of so draping commonplaces with +rhetoric that they shall have the momentary air of profound +generalizations, he is also, like him, more cunning in expedients +than capable of far-seeing policy. Adroit in creating and fostering +prejudice, acute in drawing metaphysical distinctions which shall +make wrong seem right by showing that it is less wrong than it +appeared, he is unable to see that public opinion is never moulded +by metaphysics, and that, with the people, instinct is as surely +permanent as prejudice is transitory. Like Mr. Disraeli, versatile, +he is liable to forget that what men admire as a grace in the +intellect they condemn as a defect in the character and conduct. +Gifted, like him, with various talents, he has one which overshadows +all the rest,--the faculty of inspiring a universal want of +confidence. As a popular leader, the advantage which daring would +have given him is more than counterpoised by an acuteness and +refinement of mind which have no sympathy with the mass of men, and +which they in turn are likely to distrust from imperfect +comprehension. Ill-adapted for the rough-and-tumble contests of a +Democracy, he is admirably fitted to be the minister or the head of +an oligarchical Republic. We wish all our Northern Representatives +had the boldness and the abilities, we hope none of them will be +seduced by the example, of Mr. Cushing. + +He is one of those able men whose imputed is even greater than their +real mental capacity; because the standard of ordinary men is success, +--and success, of a certain kind, is assured to those mixed +characters which combine the virtue of courage with the vice of +unscrupulousness. An ambitious man, like Louis Napoleon, for example, +who sets out with those two best gifts of worldly fortune, a lace +with nothing but brass and a pocket with nothing but copper in it, +has a brilliant, if a short, career before him, and will be sure to +gain the character of ability; for if ambition but find selfishness +to work upon, it has that leverage which Archimedes wished for. But +time makes sad havoc with this false greatness, with this reputation +which passes for fame, and this adroitness which passes for wisdom, +with merely acute minds. When Plausibility and Truth divided the +world between them, the one chose To-day and the other To-morrow. + +To enable us to construct a theory of Mr. Cushing's present position, +we have two recent productions in print,--his Fourth of July Oration +at New York, and his Letter to the Craytonville Committee. But he +has seen too many aspirants for the Presidency contrive to drown +themselves in their inkstands, and is far too shrewd a man, to +elaborate any documentary evidence of his opinions. If we arrive at +them, it must be by a process of induction, and by gathering what +evidence we can from other sources. Mr. Cushing knows very well that +the multitude have nothing but a secondary office in the making of +Presidents, and addresses to them only his words, while the +initiated alone know what meaning to put on them. If, for example, +when he says _servant_ he means _slave_, when he says _Negrophilist_ +he means _Republican_, and when he says _false philanthropy_ he +means _the fairest instincts of the human heart_, we have a right to +suspect that there is also an esoteric significance in the phrases, +_Loyalty to the Union_, _Nationality_, and _Conservatism_. + +Had a constituent of Mr. Cushing, in the Essex North District, taken +a nap of twenty years,--(and if he had invited his Representative to +dinner, and got such an answer as the Craytonville letter, the +supposition is not extravagant,)--what would have been his amazement, +on waking, to find his Member of Congress haranguing an assembly of +Original Democrats in Tammany Hall! Caius Marcius addressing the +Volscian council of war would occur to him as the only historic +parallel for such a rhetorical phenomenon. The one was an ideal, as +the other is a commonplace example of the ludicrous contradictions +in which men may be involved, who find in personal motives the +justification of public conduct. That the chairman of the meeting +should have had in his pocket a letter from the candidate of the +Buffalo Convention, and that Mr. John Van Buren should have sat upon +the platform, while the orator charged the leaders of the Republican +Party with interested motives, were merely two of those incidental +circumstances by which Fact always vindicates her claim to be more +satiric than Fiction. But when Mr. Cushing speaks with exultation of +the past and with confidence of the future of the Original +Democratic Party, we can think of nothing like it but Charles II. +taking the Solemn League and Covenant, with an unctuous allusion to +the persecutions WE Covenanters have undergone, and the triumphs of +vital piety to which WE look forward. + +Mr. Cushing claims that the Democratic Party has originated and +carried through every measure that has become a part of the settled +policy of the government. This is not very remarkable, if we +consider that the party has been in power during by far the +greater part of our national existence, and that under our system +the administration is practically a dictatorship for four years. +Mr. Everett long ago pointed out the advantage we should gain by +having a responsible ministry. As it is, the representative branch +of our government is practically a nullity. What with his immense +patronage, the progress of events, and the chance of luring the +opposing party into by-questions, the Presidential Micawber of the +moment is almost sure that something will turn up to extricate him +from the consequences of his own incompetency or dishonesty. The only +check upon this system is the chance that the temerity engendered by +irresponsible power may lead the executive to measures which, as in +the case of Kansas, shall open the eyes of thinking men to the real +designs and objects of those in office. An opposition is necessarily +transitory in its nature, if it be not founded on some principle +which, reaching below the shifting sands of politics, rests upon the +primary rock of morals and conscience. In such a principle only is +found the nucleus of a party which the adverse patronage of a +corrupt executive can but strengthen by attracting from it its baser +elements. Such an opposition the Democratic Party seems lately to +have devoted all its policy to build up, and now, confronted with it, +can find no remedy but in the abolishment of morals and conscience +altogether. + +The Democratic Party, like the distinguished ancestor of Jonathan +Wild, has been impartially on both sides of every question of +domestic policy which has arisen since it came into political +existence. It has been _pro_ and _con_ in regard to a Navy, a +National Bank, Internal Improvements, Protection, Hard Money, and +Missouri Compromise. Its leading doctrine was State Rights; its whole +course of action, culminating in the Dred Scott decision, has been +in the direction of Centralization. During all these changes, it has +contrived to have the Constitution always on its side by the simple +application of Swift's axiom, "Orthodoxy is _my_ doxy, Heterodoxy is +_thy_ doxy," though it has had as many doxies as Cowley. Sometimes +it has even had two at once, as in refusing to the iron of +Pennsylvania the protection it gave to the sugar of Louisiana. +Pennsylvania avenged herself by the fatal gift of Mr. Buchanan. +There is one exception to the amiable impartiality of the party,--it +has been always and energetically pro-slavery. In this respect +Mr. Cushing has the advantage of it, for he has been on both sides +of the Slavery question also. It must be granted, however, that his +lapse into _Negrophilism_ was but a momentary weakness, and that +without it the Whig Party would have lost the advantage of his +character, and the lesson of his desertion, in Congress. He is said +to be master of several tongues, and it is therefore quite natural +that he should have held a different language at different times on +many different questions. + +A creed so various that it seemed to be, not one, but every creed's +epitome, could not fail to be strangely attractive to a mind so +versatile as that of Mr. Cushing; yet we cannot deny to his +conversion some remarkable features which give it a peculiar interest. +In some respects his case offers a pleasing contrast to that of the +Rev. John Newton; for, as the latter was converted from slave-trading +to Christianity, so Mr. Cushing (whatever he may have renounced) +seems to have embraced something very like the principles which the +friend of Cowper abandoned,--another example of the beautiful +compensations by which the balance of Nature is preserved. And his +conversion was sudden enough to have pleased even Jonathan Edwards +himself. Up to the ripe age of forty-two he had been joined to his +idols. It is a proverb, that he who is a fool at forty will be a +fool at fourscore; yet Mr. Cushing, who is certainly no fool, had +been blind to the beauties of Original Democracy for a year or two +beyond that alliterative era. The Whigs had just succeeded in +electing their candidates, and it seemed as if nothing short of an +almost Providential interposition could save him. That interposition +came in the death of General Harrison, which took away the last earthly +hope of Whig advancement. It was what the jockeys call "a very near +thing." But for that,--it is a sad thought,--Mr. Cushing might have been +on our side now. This was the _gratia operans_. Mr. Tyler, who +succeeded to the Presidency, had Democratic proclivities; this was +the _gratia cooeperans_; and finally we see the _gratia perficiens_ +in the appointment of our catechumen to the Chinese Commissionership. +From the Central Flowery Kingdom he returned a full-blown Original +Democrat. In 1853, Mr. Pierce, finding himself elected President +for no other reason apparently than that he had failed to distinguish +himself in the Mexican War, appointed Mr. Cushing his Attorney +General on the same benevolent principle,--consoling him for having +to sheathe a bloodless sword by giving him a chance to draw the more +dangerous Opinion. + +We have alluded only to such facts in Mr. Cushing's history as are +fresh in the remembrance of our readers; and it would not have been +worth our while to allude even to these, if he had not seen fit to +speak of the leading men of the Republican Party as "dangerous, +because they have _no fixed principle, no stable convictions, no +samples of consistency to control their acts_; because their _only +creed is what has been called the duty of success_; and because +their success--the successful accomplishment of a sectional +organization of the government on the ruins of its nationality-- +would be the _de facto_ dissolution of the Union." In his Letter he +says also, that "it is a fact humiliating to confess that the cant +of negroism still has vogue as one of the minor instruments of +demagoguy in Northern States." The coolness of such charges, coming +from Mr. Cushing, is below the freezing-point of quicksilver. Shall +we take lessons in fixedness of principle from the Whig-Antislavery +Member from Federalist Essex?--in stable convictions from the +Tyler-Commissioner to China?--in consistency from the Democratic +Attorney-General?--in an amalgam of all three from the Coalition +Judge? Shall we find a more pointed warning of the worthlessness of +success in the words than in the example of the orator? Since Reynard +the Fox donned a friar's hood, and, with the feathers still sticking +in his whiskers, preached against the damnable heresy of hen-stealing, +there has been nothing like this! + +In China, they set great store by porcelain that has been often +broken and mended again with silver wire, prizing it more highly +than that which is sound and fresh from the hands of the potter. +There is a kind of political character of the same description, +--hollow-ware, not generally porcelain, indeed,--cracked in every +direction, but deftly bound together with silver strips of preferment, +till it is consistent enough to serve all the need of its possessor +in receiving large messes of the public pottage. How the Chinese +would have admired Mr. Tyler's Commissioner, if they had known the +exquisite perfection of _crackle_ displayed in his political career! +To be sure, the Chinese are our antipodes. + +The imputation of inconsistency is one to which every sound +politician and every honest thinker must sooner or later subject +himself. Fools and dead men are the only people who never change +their opinions or their course of action. The course of great +statesmen resembles that of navigable rivers, avoiding immovable +obstacles with noble bends of concession, seeking the broad levels +of opinion on which men soonest settle and longest dwell, following +and marking the almost imperceptible slope of national tendency, yet +forever recruited from sources nearer heaven, from summits where the +gathered purity of ages lies encamped, and sometimes bursting open +paths of progress and civilisation through what seem the eternal +barriers of both. It is a loyalty to great ends, an anchored cling +to solid principles, which knows how to swing with the tide, but not +to be carried away by it, that we demand in public men,--and not +persistence in prejudice, sameness of policy, or stolid antagonism +to the inevitable. But we demand also that they shall not too lightly +accept Wrong instead of Right, as inevitable; and there is a kind of +change that is suspicious because it is sudden,--and detrimental to +the character in proportion as it is of advantage to the man; and the +judgment of mankind allows a well-founded distinction between an +alteration of policy compelled by events, and an abandonment of +professed principles tainted with any suspicion of self-interest. We +hold that a Representative is a trustee for those who elected him, +--that his political apostasy only so far deserves the name of +conversion as it is a conversion of what was not his to his own use +and benefit; and we have a right to be impatient of instruction in +duty from those whom the hope of promotion could nerve to make the +irrevocable leap from a defeated party to a triumphant one, and who +can serve either side, if so they only serve themselves. It is this +kind of freedom from prejudice that has brought down our politics to +the gambling level of the stock-market; it is this kind of unlucky +success, and the readiness of the multitude to forgive and even to +applaud it, that justify the old sarcasm, _Patibulum inter et +statuam quam leve discrimen!_ + +It is not for inconsistencies of policy in matters of indifference +that we should blame a mart or a party, but for making questions of +honor and morals matters of indifference. Inconsistency is to be +settled, not by seeming discrepancies between the action of one day +and that of the next, but by the experience which enables us to +judge of motives and impulses. Time, which reconciles apparent +contradictions, impeaches real ones, and shows a malicious satirical +turn, in forcing men into positions where they must break their own +necks in attempting to face both ways. Nor is it for inconsistency +that we condemn the Democratic Party. There are no trade-winds for +the Ship of State, unless it be navigated by higher principles than +any the political meteorologists have yet discovered. But there have +been mysterious movements, of late, which raise a violent +presumption that our Democratic captain and officers are altering +the rig and adapting the hold of the vessel to suit the demands of a +traffic condemned by the whole civilized world. They are painting +out the old name, letter by letter, and putting "Conservative" in its +stead. They seem to fancy there is such a thing as a slave-trade-wind, +and are attempting to beat up against what they profess to believe a +local current and a gust of popular delusion. We think they are +destined to find that they are striving against the invincible drift +of Humanity and the elemental breath of God. It is an ominous +_consistency_ with which we charge the Democratic Party. + +Mr. Cushing affirms, that the Republicans have no argument but the +"cry of _Slavepower!_"--which is as eloquent a one as the old +Roman's _Delenda est Carthago_, to those who know how many years of +bitter experience, how many memories of danger and forebodings of +aggression, are compressed in it. But he is mistaken; Democratic +administrations have been busy in supplying arguments, and we +complain rather of their abundance than their paucity. The repeal of +the Missouri Compromise, the Kansas policy, which even office-holders +who had gulped their own professions found too nauseous to swallow, +and the Dred Scott decision,--if these be not arguments, then +history is no teacher, and events have no logic. + +Mr. Cushing adroitly evades the real matter in issue, and assumes +that it is a mere question of the relative amount of federal office +secured by the North and the South respectively. This may be a very +natural view of the case in a man whose map of nationality would +seem to be bounded North by a seat in Congress, East by a Chinese +Embassy, West by an Attorney-Generalship, and South by the vague +line of future contingency; but it hardly solves the difficulty. +With characteristic pluck he takes the wolf by the ears. The charge +being, that the power of the Slave States has been gaining a steady +preponderance over that of the Free States by means of the federal +administration, he answers it by saying that he has made it a +subject of "philosophic study," and has found that Massachusetts has +had a "pretty fair run of the power of the Union,"--whatever that +may be. The phrase is unfortunate, for it reminds one too much of +the handsome competence with which a father once claimed to have +endowed his son in giving him the run of the streets since he was +able to go alone. But let us test Mr. Cushing's logic by an +equivalent proposition. He is executor, we will suppose, of an +estate to be divided among sixteen heirs; he pays A his portion, and +claims a discharge in full. What would not Mr. Buchanan give for a +receipt by which office-seekers could be so cheaply satisfied! + +"Philosophic study," to be sure! It may be easy for gentlemen, the +chief part of whose productive industry has been the holding of +office or the preparing of their convictions for the receipt of more, +to be philosophic; but it is not so easy for Massachusetts to be +satisfied, when she sees only those of her children so rewarded who +misrepresent her long-cherished principles, who oppose the spread of +her institutions, who mock at her sense of right and her hereditary +love of freedom, and are willing to accept place as an equivalent +for the loss of her confidence. The question, Who is in office? may +be of primary importance to Mr. Cushing, but is of little +consequence to the Free States. What concerns them is, How and in +what interest are the offices administered? If to the detriment of +free institutions, then all the worse that sons of theirs can be +found to do that part of the work which involves (as affairs are now +tending) something very like personal dishonor. It is no matter of +pride to us that the South has never been able to produce a sailor +skilful enough and bold enough to take command of a slaver. + +Mr. Cushing affects to see in the history of the Slavery Agitation +nothing but a series of injuries inflicted by the North on the South. +He charges "some of the Northern States" with acts of aggression +upon the South "which would have been just cause of war as between +foreign governments." He prudently forbears to name any. Does he mean, +that persons have been found in some of those States unnational +enough, un-Original-Democratic enough, to give a cup of water to a +hunted Christian woman, or to harbor an outcast Christian man, +without first submitting their hair to a microscopic examination? +Does he mean, that we have said hard things of our Southern brethren? +Grose's "Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue" is open to them +as well as to us, and the Richmond "South" is surely not in the +habit of sprinkling the Northern subjects of its animadversion with +rose-water. No,--what Mr. Cushing means is this,--that there are men +at the North who will not surrender the principles they have +inherited from three revolutions because they are threatened with a +fourth that will never come,--who do not consider it an adequate +success in our experiment of self-government that we can produce +such types of nationality as reckon the value of their country by +the amount of salary she pays,--who will not believe that there is +no higher kind of patriotism than complicity in every violent +measure of an administration which redeems only its pledges to a +faction of Southern disunionists,--who will not admit that +slave-holding is the only important branch of national industry, +because the profession of that dogma enables unscrupulous men to +enter the public service poor and to leave it rich. Has any citizen +of a Southern State ever failed to obtain justice (that is to say, +in the language of Original Democracy, his _nigger_) in a Northern +court? Has Massachusetts ever mobbed an envoy or brutally assaulted +a Senator of South Carolina? Has any Northern State ever nullified +an article of the Federal Constitution, as every seaboard +Slave-State has always done in respect to the colored citizens of +the North? When a man's allowing himself to be kicked comes to be +reckoned an outrage on the kicker, then Mr. Cushing's notion of what +constitutes a "just cause of war" will deserve as much consideration +as Mr. G.T. Curtis's theory that hustling a deputy-marshal is +"levying" it. We can remember when the confirmation of an ambassador +to England (where the eminent fitness of the nomination was +universally conceded) was opposed by several Southern Senators on +the ground that he had expressed an interest in the success of West +India emancipation. If Original Democrats have their way, it will +not be long before it is made constructive treason to have read that +chapter of the Acts of the Apostles which relates the misguided +philanthropy of Philip in endeavoring to convert an Ethiopian into +anything but a chattel. + +We are inclined to think that a too amiable willingness to be kicked +has been generally considered "just cause of war as between foreign +governments,"--especially on the part of the stronger of the two. +History seems to show this,--and also, that the sooner a nation gets +over its eccentric partiality for this kind of appeal to its +reasoning faculty, the more likely it is to avoid the risks of war. +At any rate, the forbearance of the South has been such, that, in +spite of the great temptation, she has hitherto refrained from +sending her fleets and armies northward, and we are glad to find +that Mr. Cushing is inclined to take a cheerful view of the +permanency of our institutions. He tells us, it is true, in one place, +that the success of the Republican Party would be "the _de facto_ +dissolution of the Union"; but in a moment of calmer reflection he +assures us that there are thirty million Americans who stand ready +"to devour and swallow up" the "handful of negrophilist Union-haters." +We have great faith in the capacity of the American people, yet we +somewhat doubt whether any one of them could swallow up what he had +already devoured, unless, indeed, he performed that feat which has +hitherto been the opprobrium of Jack-puddings, and jumped down his +own throat afterwards. However, a man of Mr. Cushing's warmth of +nature might well find himself carried beyond the regions of +ordinary rhetoric in contemplating so beautiful and affecting a +vision, and it is enough that we have the consolation of knowing +that he either spoke with a disregard of the census, which we cannot +believe possible in one so remarkable for accuracy of statement, or +that he acquits every man, woman, and child in the country of any +hostility to the Union. It is cheering to have this matter set +finally at rest by so eminent an authority, and we are particularly +glad that the necessity for so painful an experiment in swallowing +is a great way off; for, though a "handful" would not go far among so +many, yet, if its components be as unpleasant as Mr. Cushing +represents them, it would certainly give a colic to every patriot +who got a bite. After so generous an exculpation of the American +people from any desire to pull their own house about their ears, we +are left to conclude that the only real danger to be apprehended, in +case of a Republican success, is a _de facto_ and _de jure_ +dissolution of that union between certain placemen and their places +which has lasted so long that they have come to look on it as +something Constitutional. When that day is likely to arrive, we +shall see such samples of consistency, and such instances of stable +conviction, in finding out on which side of their bread the butter +lies, as cannot fail to gratify even Mr. Cushing himself. + +But we must not congratulate ourselves too soon. In the interval +between the fifth of July, when his oration was delivered, and the +seventh of August, which is the date of the Craytonville letter, +Mr. Cushing seems to have reviewed his opinion on the state of the +Union. There is more cause for alarm than appeared on the surface; +but this time it is not because we have fallen out of love with the +South, but that we have become desperately enamored of negroes. +Nurses will have to scare their refractory charges with another +bugaboo; for the majority of Massachusetts infants would jump at the +chance of being carried off by the once terrible Ugly Black Man. Our +great danger is from _Negrophilism_; though Mr. Cushing seems +consoled by the fact, that it is a danger to Massachusetts, and not +to South Carolina. We think Mr. Cushing may calm his disinterested +apprehensions. We believe the disease is not so deep-seated as he +imagines; and as we see no reason to fear the immediate catastrophe +of the Millennium from any excess of benevolence on the part of +Mr. Cushing and his party toward white men, (whose cause he +professes to espouse,) we are inclined to look forward with +composure to any results that are likely to follow from sporadic +cases of sympathy with black ones. There is no reason for turning +alarmist. In spite of these highly-colored forebodings, it will be a +great while before our colored fellow-citizens, or fellow-denizens, +(or whatever the Dred Scott decision has turned them into,) will +leave mourning-cards in Beacon Street, or rear mulatto-hued houses +on that avenue which it is proposed to build from the Public Garden +into the sunset. + +It is adroit in Mr. Cushing thus to shift the front of his defence, +but it is dreadfully illogical. It is very convenient to make it +appear that this is a quarrel of races; for, in such a case, a +scruple of prejudice will go farther than a hundredweight of argument. +In assuming to be the champion of the downtrodden whites against the +domineering blacks, Mr. Cushing enlists on his side the sympathy and +admiration which are sure to follow the advocate of the weak and the +defenceless. He comes home to New England, finds his own color +proscribed, and at once takes the part of _amicus curiae_ for the +weak against the strong in the forum of Humanity. We do not wonder, +that a gentleman, who has devoted so much ingenuity, so much time +and talent, to making black appear white, should at last deaden the +nicety of his sense for the distinction between the two, and thus +reverse the relation of the two colors; but we do wonder, that, in +choosing Race as a convenient catchword, he should not see that he +is yielding a dangerous vantage-ground to the Native American Party, +whose principles he seems so pointedly to condemn. We say _seems_, +--for he is carefully indefinite in his specifications, and hedges +his opinions with a thicket of ambiguous phrases, which renders it +hard to get at them, and leaves opportunity for future evasion. If a +war of race be justifiable in White against Black, why not in +so-called Anglo-Saxons against Kelts? The one is as foolish and as +wicked as the other, and the only just method of solution is the +honest old fair field and no favor, under which every race and every +individual man will assume the place destined to him in the order of +Providence. We have a great distrust of ethnological assumptions; for +there is, as yet, no sufficient basis of observed fact for +legitimate induction, and the blood in the theorist's own veins is +almost sure to press upon the brain and disturb accurate vision, or +his preconceptions to render it impossible. Gervinus reads the whole +history of Europe in the two words, _Teutonic_ and _Romanic_; +Wordsworth believed that only his family could see a mountain; +Dr. Prichard, led astray by a mistaken philanthropy, believed color +to be a matter of climate; and Dr. Nott considers that the outline +shown by a single African hair on transverse section is reason +enough for the oppression of a race. If the black man be radically +inferior to the white, or radically different from him, the folly of +white-washing him will soon appear. But, on the other hand, if his +natural relation to the white man be that of slave to master, our +Southern brethren have wasted a great deal of time in prohibitory and +obscurantist legislation; they might as well have been passing acts +to prevent the moon from running away, or to make the Pleiades know +their place. + +It will be a blessed day for the world when men are as willing to +help each other as they are to assist Providence. The "London +Cotton-Plant," a journal established to sustain the interests of +Slavery in the Old World, is almost overpowered with acute distress +for the Order of Creation, and offers its sustaining shoulder to the +System of the Universe. "Fear nothing," it seems to say, "glorious +structure of the Divine Architect! Giddings shall not touch you, nor +shall Seward lay his sacrilegious hand on you!" "Who are ye?" +murmurs the Voice, "that would reedit the works of the Almighty?" +"Sublime, but misguided object of our compassion, we prefer to +remain in the modest seclusion of namelessness, but we are published +at Red-Lion Court, Fleet Street, and are sold for one shilling!" To +judge from Mr. Cushing's letter, he has studied this organ of the +sympathizers with the Pre-established Harmonies,--certainly there is +a singular coincidence in the sentiments of both, so far as we can +make them out. Both call themselves conservative, both are +anti-philanthropists, both claim that public opinion is tending in +the direction of their views, both affirm that their cause is that +of the white man, and both appear to mean by white man the same +thing,--the owner of a slave. + +But is not Mr. Cushing's anxiety misdirected, and wilfully so, in +seeking the material for its forebodings of danger to the Union in +the Free States? The only avowed disunionists of the North are the +radical Abolitionists, whose position is the logical result of their +admitting that under the Constitution it is impossible to touch +Slavery where it exists, and who, therefore, seek in a dissolution +of the federal compact an escape from complicity with what they +believe an evil and a wrong,--with what, till within the last twenty +years, was conceded to be such by the South itself. If Mr. Cushing +be so great an admirer of stability in conviction, he might have +found in these men the subject of something other than vituperation. +There are men among them who might have won the foremost places of +political advancement, could they have sacrificed their principles +to their ambition, could they believe that public honors would heal +as well as hide the wounds of self-respect. It is the South that +advocates disunion, from sectional motives, and adds the spice of +treason. The "London Cotton-Plant" says,-- + + "If she [the South] is denied 'equality' + within the Union, she can have 'independence' + out of it. Already in European cabinets + the possibility of this contingency is + contemplated. We but perform a public duty + when we tell Mr. Douglas that _there is in + Europe more than one power able and willing + and prepared to take the Cotton States of America, + and with them the other 'Slave'-States, + so-called by free-negroists, under their protection, + as valuable and desirable allies_ ... And + more, _he can say by authority that she [the + South] has active and successful agents in every + part of Europe preparing the way for equal existence, + commercially as well as politically, so + long as the Union exists, or the active support of + powerful allies, if driven as a last resort to appeal + to the civilized world against tyranny and + oppression_." [1] + +But what does the "Cotton-Plant" understand by "equality"? Nothing +less than the reopening of the slave-trade. Speaking of the chance +that the captured slaves of the "Echo" would be sent back to +Africa, and resenting such a procedure as "a brand upon our +section and upon our social condition," it affirms that: + + "This labor-question of the South does + not depend upon such miserable clap-trap + as Kansas or the Fugitive Slave Law. It + rests upon a full, open, and deliberate recognition + of the rights of the Southern people; + and the Senator from Illinois, _by moving the + abrogation of the so-called slave-trade treaty + with England, allowing the South to supply herself + with labor as she may see fit, would give, + indeed, unquestioned assurance of his disposition + and courage to follow the principle of the + white-basis to its logical and constitutional consequence_." + +It declares that the sending home of the Africans would be "a +practical reversal of the Dred Scott decision," and adds,--"We have +no fear that our people _will long remain passive under such an +accumulating weight of inequality._" [2] + +Is not this explicit enough? and does not the "white-basis" +sufficiently explain what is meant by the systematic depreciation of +the colored race in Mr. Cushing's letter? + +The Democratic Party is the party of "Progress." What is the +direction of that progress likely to be? What is the lesson of the +past? Hitherto this party has been the ally and the tool, not of the +moderate, but of the extreme propagandas of the South. The +Carolinians with their Scotch blood received also a strong infusion +of Scotch logic. They felt that their system was inconsistent with +the immortal assertion of Jefferson in the Declaration of +Independence, and with the principles of the Revolution,--that its +extension was a direct reversal of the creed and the policy of the +men by whom our frame of government was established. They accepted +the alternative, and assumed the aggressive. The principles of the +Revolution must be crushed out, the traditions of the Fathers of the +Republic repudiated,--and that, too, by means of the party calling +itself Democratic, through which alone the South could control the +policy of the government. + +Accordingly, a reaction was put in motion and steadily pressed, +precisely similar in kind to that organized by Louis Napoleon +against the principles of the French Revolution, and supported by +precisely the same warnings of the danger of civil commotion, and by +appeals to the timidity of Property and the cupidity of Trade. The +party which had so long vaunted the derivation of its fundamental +truth from the Law of Nature was compelled to make it a part of its +creed that there was nothing higher than an ordinance of man. The +party of State-Rights was forced to proclaim that a decision of the +Supreme Court was sovereign over all the rights of the States. The +party whose leading dogma it is, that all power proceeds from and +resides in the people, that all government rests on the consent of +the governed, was driven into refusing to submit a constitution to +the people whose destiny was to be decided by it. And all this has +been done, not for the security of Slavery where it exists, but to +serve the truculent purposes of its indefinite extension. To +acquiesce in the honesty and justice of such a course of policy as +the last few years have shown, to assist in inaugurating a future +that shall accord with it, is nationality and conservatism! No +wonder Mr. Cushing is charmed with the consistency of his new allies. +Do they propose to steal Cuba?--they are the party who would extend +the area of Freedom. Do they make Slavery a matter of federal concern +by means of the Supreme Court?--they are the party who maintain that +it is an affair of local law. Do they disfranchise a race?--they are +the party of equal rights. And the whole wretched imbroglio of creed +which is the condemnation of their action, and of action, which is +the death of their creed, is dubbed Nationality. If sectionalism be +the reverse of all this, we confess that we prefer sectionalism. It +is a nationality which has no Northern half, a conservatism which +abolishes all our heroic traditions. + +If the Democratic Party has been urged to such extreme measures and +such motley self-stultification by the pressure of the South, if +every downward step has been only the more likely to be taken +because it seemed impossible six months before, what are we not to +look for, now that its leaders are emboldened by success, and its +lieutenants are eager for more plunder at the easy price of more +perfidy? Already, as we have seen, the reopening of the slave-trade +is demanded; already fresh enactments are called for, expressly to +render it in future impossible for the people of a Territory to +loosen the grip of Slavery, as those of Kansas have done. And to +prepare the way for this, we are forced to hear continual homilies +on the supremacy of law, on what are called "legal conscience" and +"legal morality,"--phrases which sound well, but cover nothing more +than the absurd fallacy, that everything is legal which can by any +hocus-pocus be got enacted. The doctrine, that there is no higher +law than the written statute, is but one of the symptoms of the +steady drift of our leading politicians toward materialism, toward +a faith which makes the products of man's industry of more value +than man himself, and finds the god of this lower world in the +law of demand and supply. "Cotton is King!" say such reasoners as +Mr. Cushing;--"Conscience is King!" said such actors as the Puritans. +To have a moral sense may be very unwise, very visionary, very +unphilosophic; but most men are foolish enough to have one, and the +enforcing of any law which wounds it is sure to arouse a resistance +thoroughly pervading their whole being and lasting as life itself. +The carrying away of a single fugitive[3] gave the Republicans a +tenure of power in Massachusetts, as firm, and likely to be as +enduring, as that of the Whigs was once. The propagandists of +Slavery overreached themselves when they compelled the people of the +North to be their accomplices. The higher law is not a thing men +argue about, but act upon. People who admit the right of property a +thousand miles off go back to first principles when the property +comes to their door in the upright form of man and appeals for +sympathy with a human voice. + +Mr. Cushing represents Massachusetts to be a Babel of _isms_, so +many square miles of Bedlam, from Boston Corner to Provincetown. Is +this intended as a depreciation of our free institutions, by showing +the results to which they inevitably lead? Has a Rarey for vicious +hobbies been a _desideratum_ so long, and has such a benefactor of +his species found his avatar at last in Mr. Cushing? He tells us, +however, that the delusion of _Negrophilism_, that is, Republicanism, +is on the wane, and is destined to speedy extinction. The very +extravagancies he speaks of as so rife and so rampant are to us +evidence of the contrary. They prove the depth to which the +religious instincts of the Northern people have been stirred upon +the question of Slavery. Such extravagancies have accompanied every +great moral movement of mankind. The Reformation, the great Puritan +Rebellion, the French Revolution, brought them forth in swarms. A +profound historical thinker, Gervinus, remarks, that the political +enthusiasm of a nation is slow to warm and swift to cool, but that +its moral enthusiasm is quickly stirred and long in subsiding. +Thinking men will ask themselves whether the _isms_ Mr. Cushing +enumerates be not the external symptoms of such an enthusiasm,--and +whether it be wise, under the names of "Nationality" and "Conservatism," +to urge aggressions to the point where it becomes the right and the +duty of men to consider the terrible necessity of a change in their +system of government; whether it be unpatriotic to resist the +extension of a system which makes the mass of the population an +element of danger and weakness in the body politic, as its advocates +admit by their scheme for a foreign protectorate of their proposed +independent organization,--a system which renders public education +impossible, exhausts the soil, necessitates sparseness of population, +and demoralizes the governing classes.[4] + +The ethical aspects of Slavery are not and cannot be the subject of +consideration with any party which proposes to act under the +Constitution of the United States. Nor are they called upon to +consider its ethnological aspect. Their concern with it is confined +to the domain of politics, and they are not called to the discussion +of abstract principles, but of practical measures. The question, +even in its political aspect, is one which goes to the very +foundation of our theories and our institutions. It is simply, +--Shall the course of the Republic be so directed as to subserve the +interests of aristocracy or of democracy? Shall our Territories be +occupied by lord and serf, or by intelligent freemen?--by laborers +who are owned, or by men who own themselves? The Republican Party +has no need of appealing to prejudice or passion. In this case, +there is a meaning in the phrase, Manifest Destiny. America is to be +the land of the workers, the country where, of all others, the +intelligent brain and skilled hand of the mechanic, and the patient +labor of those who till their own fields, are to stand them in +greatest stead. We are to inaugurate and carry on the new system +which makes Man of more value than Property, which will one day put +the living value of industry above the dead value of capital. Our +republic was not born under Cancer, to go backward. Perhaps we do +not like the prospect? Perhaps we love the picturesque charm with +which novelists and poets have invested the old feudal order of +things? That is not the question. This New World of ours is to be +the world of great workers and small estates. The freemen whose +capital is their two hands must inevitably become hostile to a system +clumsy and barbarous like that of Slavery, which only carries to its +last result the pitiless logic of selfishness, sure at last to +subject the toil of the many to the irresponsible power of the few. + +It may temporarily avail the Party of Slavery-Extension to announce +itself as the party of the white man, of the sacredness of property, +and the obligation of law; it may draw to their ranks a few +well-meaning persons, whose easy circumstances make them uneasy,--a +few leaders of defunct parties, with a general capacity for +misdirection and nobody to misdirect; but it will avail the +Republican Party more to claim and to prove that it is the party of +Man, no matter what his color or creed or race,--of the sacredness of +that property which every human being has in himself,--and of the +obligation of that law which outlives legislatures and statute-books, +and is the only real security of all law. The cry of "Conservatism" +may be efficacious for a season; but time will make plainer and +plainer the distinction between the false conservatism which for its +own benefit would keep things as they are, which smooths imminent +ruin delusively over, as Niagara is smoothest on the edge of the +abyss, and that true conservatism which works upon things as they are, +to prepare them for what they must be,--recognizes the necessity of +change, to forestall revolution with healthy development,--and +believes that there is no real antagonism between Old and New, but +only a factitious one, the result of man's obstinacy or self-seeking. + +[Footnote 1: London Cotton-Plant, 21st August, 1858.] + +[Footnote 2: _Ibid_. 18th September. 1858.] + +[Footnote 3: It is a coincidence that the recapture of runaways +did more than anything else to abolish villanage in England.] + +[Footnote 4: See COBB _on Slavery_, (Philadelphia: T. & J.W. +Johnson & Co., 1858,) where these admissions are made. (Introd. pp. +218-220.) This work, written by Mr. Thomas R. R. Cobb, of Georgia, is, +considering the natural prepossessions of the author, singularly calm +and candid. We commend it to our readers, as bringing together a +great deal of information, and still more as showing the remarkable +change which has come over the Southern mind, even among moderate men, +on the subject of Slavery. We shall take a future occasion to notice +it more fully.] + + + + +LITERARY NOTICES. + + + +_Brief Expositions of Rational Medicine; To which is prefixed The +Paradise of Doctors, a Fable_. By JACOB BIGELOW, M.D., Late +President of the Massachusetts Medical Society, Physician of the +Massachusetts General Hospital, etc. Boston: Phillips, Sampson, and +Company, 13, Winter Street. 1858. + +Two doctrines, each containing a fraction of truth, have lain +soaking in the mind of our free-and-easy community so long, that +what strength they had is well-nigh got out of them. + +Doctrine the first is, that a man who has devoted himself to a +particular calling is to be considered necessarily ignorant thereof, +--and that certain babes and sucklings in that particular branch of +knowledge, and all others, are to be accepted as the true oracles +with regard to its mysteries. Doctrine the second is, that every new +theory accepted by any number of persons has some important truth at +the bottom of it. + +The first of these doctrines has its real meaning. It is true that +there may be a common feeling of justice in the minds of ignorant +people which shall override the decisions of a learned Chief Justice. +It is true that a man may brutalize himself by a contemplation of +theological cruelties, until decent parents are ashamed to have +their children listen to his libels on the Father of All. It is true +that a physician may become such a drug-peddling routinist, that +sensible mothers see through him, and know enough to throw his trash +out of the window as soon as he turns his back. + +The second doctrine has its real meaning. Until men turn into beasts, +they must have some arguments addressed to their reason before they +will believe, and still more before they will act. Spiritualism has +its significance, as an appeal from the gross materialism and +heathen ideas of another life so commonly entertained. Mormonism has +its logic, as an appeal from the enforced celibacy of one sex, and to +the Oriental Abrahamic instincts of the other. Homoeopathy has its +fraction of sanity, as a protest against that odious tendency of +physicians to give nauseous stuff to people because they are ailing, +which sickened the pages of old pharmacopoeias with powders of +earthworms and _album Graecum_, and even now makes illness terrible +where it reigns unrebuked. + +Swallow these two paragraphs of concession as the infusion drawn +from those two doctrines laid down at starting, and throw away the +effete axioms as fit only for old women to coddle and drench +themselves withal. Having done this, the reader is ready for the +book the title of which we have prefixed. + +DR. BIGELOW'S name is a guaranty that it shall contain many thoughts +in not over-many words. It is a pledge that we shall be emancipated +from all narrow technicalities and officinal idols, while following +his guidance. As a man of rare sagacity and wide range of knowledge, +a man of science before he became a leading practitioner in the +highest range of his profession, a philosopher whom his fellows have +thought worthy to preside over their deliberations, a physician whom +his brethren have honored with their highest office, though no man +among them ever assailed the pleasing and profitable delusions of +his craft so sharply,--he may well be listened to, even though he +has given his life to the subject on which he writes. + +As this little book is neither (to speak in pharmaceutic phrase) the +water, nor the spirit, but the very _essential oil_, of the author's +thoughts on the matters of which he treats, it is only by a +destructive analysis we can resolve it into its elements. We shall +only touch upon its contents, and recommend the book itself to all +who have ever known sickness, or expect ever to know it, or to have +a friend liable to it. + +"The Paradise of Doctors" is a pleasant bait to those wary readers +who will bite at the bare hook of quackery, but must be tempted +before they will venture into a book of medicine which has not lying +as its staple material. + +Then comes a consideration of the five methods of treating +disease now most prevalent in civilized countries; namely, + 1. The Artificial. + 2. The Expectant. + 3. The Homoeopathic. + 4. The Exclusive. + 5. The Rational. + +Perfect candor, perfect clearness, the good-nature of a successful +man above all petty jealousies, the style of a scholar who has +hardly an equal among us in his profession and few equals out of it, +the honesty which belongs to science, and the acuteness which is +conferred by practice mark this brief essay. It follows in the same +course of thought as the admirable "Discourse on Self-limited +Diseases," the delivery of which many years ago marked the +commencement of a new epoch in the movement of the medical mind +among us. An hour's reading given to this new lesson of wisdom will +turn many a self-willed, proud-hearted medical skeptic into a humble +and consistent patient of the regular profession. + + + +_Thoughts on Matter and Force: or Marvels that encompass us_: +comprising Suggestions illustrative of the Theory of the Universe. +By THOMAS EWBANK. New York: D. Appleton & Co. London: Truebner & Co. +1858. + +The human longing for the Infinite is as strong now as it was when +the first _ology_, aiming to grasp it, conceived its first myth, and +comprehended something so far below what humanity itself now is or +knows, that we use it, along with the more recent productions of +Mrs. Goose, to amuse children. This persistent trait in human nature +is truly noble, however fruitless. But it is not altogether fruitless. +Though the intellectual world has really come no nearer the object +of its search, it has advanced far beyond its starting-point, and +made valuable progress, which a lower motive could never have +prompted. The wisest of mean men, as he was the meanest of wise ones, +did very well to check the metaphysical modes and tendencies of +human study, and advise the previous comprehension of facts within +reach. This worldly wisdom has already made us all wonderfully rich +in the chariots and horses of thought. The consequence is, we now +rush forth into the infinite in various directions, and, from +inconceivable distances of time and space, bring home marvels that +are truly sublime. + +Mr. Ewbank's "Suggestions" are of this sort, though the turn-out +with which he has been exploring the boundless is not, perhaps, +quite up to the latest improvements in the Baconian carriage-factory, +There can be no doubt of the boldness with which his really modest +and unpretending little book grapples with the largest of all +subjects, whatever we may think of its success. Postulating, for the +purpose of his cosmogony, two, and only two, absolute entities, +--matter and spirit,--Mr. Ewbank makes force a property or attribute +of the former, which the latter can only direct or make use of, not +originate. He does not admit that spirit can overcome the inertia of +matter. Whatever inertia may be, it is superable or destructible only +by the force or motion of matter itself,--matter being incapable of +rest. "Instead of matter being innately inert," says Mr. Ewbank, +"as many think, motion is its natural condition." How the spiritual +direction--or shall we call it _bossing_?--of motion or force +(which only, according to Mr. Ewbank, produces results) applies +itself,--what is its _point d'appui_, its mode of modifying, its +why of causing,--he does not attempt to explain to us. He recognizes +the universal gravitating or contractile force, from which, as +successive sequences, proceed heat and expansion; but he does not +suggest that spirit has any more to do with the first than with any +succeeding term in the series. It exerts no force, moves nothing; +yet spirit produces all the results. "No regular or useful form," +says our author, "can be produced by unbridled force. Intelligence +must be present." So it is the business of the spirit to bridle force, +--or matter's motion,--mount the restless steed, and ride to a +purpose! Shall we ever see the bits of that bridle? + +On the subject of material form, we find the following passage, which, +while, perhaps, the most original in the book, is to us the least +instructive:-- + +"However multiplied interior actions may be, the universe, as a whole, +must have a _common movement_, or none. One division cannot, in +relation to the rest, stand still, lag behind, fly off, or diverge +from its place, without destroying all unity. The earth is full of +motions; but they do not interfere with her general and uniform +motion. So it is with the universal orb: its rotation is, we believe, +fundamental,--the basis of all other movements, without which there +could be none other. + +"In everything, there is virtue in FORM; and we surmise that vastly +more depends on the configuration and movement of matter as _one mass_, +than has been suspected. As perfect a whole as any of its parts, +must not the universe have a definable outline or shape,--one to +which nothing amorphous can possibly belong? What is its figure? It +can hardly be a cube, cylinder, or prism of any kind; indeed, we +might as reasonably suppose it a three-sided figure as one bounded +at all by straight lines. No one extending in one direction more +than in another could have met the exigencies of creation; and that +the universe is a sphere may also be inferred from fluid matter +naturally assuming that form,--perhaps because its elements have it. +Had atoms been bounded by plane surfaces, so, we may suppose, had +worlds, drops of water, and soap-bubbles. + +"The universe is spherical, then, because its molecules are: and it +moves, because they are incapable of rest." + +Does this mean that the totality of matter is finite?--that it can +be viewed, spiritually, from the outside,--even from such a distance +as to appear infinitely small? If so, can there be infinite power, +either material or spiritual? If the universe is spherical because +its molecules are, can the molecules compose any other than the +spherical form? Do we gain much by reasoning from an assumption +below the ken of the microscope to a conclusion above that of the +telescope? + +Mr. Ewbank, however, does not often indulge in a logical stride so +long or on such shaky footing as this. Through more or less +cloudiness of expression, he gives us many striking and satisfactory +views, looking towards a complete synthesis of the glorious system +of things to which we belong, makes out the universe as habitable +and cheerful as it is wide, and leaves us admiring its good more +than marvelling at its evil. He maintains that all solar and +planetary bodies have a central, vital heat, produced and maintained +by the same cause,--to wit, the gravitating or condensing force; its +intensity being as the mass. In the sun, the mass is so great, that, +in spite of its inferior density, more and intenser heat is +generated by condensation than in any or all of the planets. If the +whole orb is not incandescent, there is such intense heat in its +central portion as to generate gases, which, being thrown up through +its atmosphere, to a height at least as great as the whole diameter +of our globe, condense there again with an ineffably brilliant +combustion. The solid crust of the sun, he thinks, may be +comparatively cool,--as cool, perhaps, as our tropical climates,--by +the favor of cloud-curtains, which operate as screens, and reflect +off into space the heat of the combustion overhead. He might have +given more reasons than he has for this conclusion. Whether our +terrestrial aurora-borealis is caused by the combustion of gases that +have been generated by internal heat or not, we know that the +combustion of gas in the upper regions of our atmosphere would not +warm the surface of the earth much more than it would that of the +moon. It is easy enough to make out, from facts which our terrene +science has revealed to us, how the sun may be a perpetual fountain +of light, heat, and force to its most distant planets, without +having itself any superabundance of either of these emanations for +its own domestic consumption. The solar population may have no more +sunshine than we do, and may have even that mitigated with the +luxury of ice-creams, if not with that of arctic explorations and +polar bears. Whether they have as good opportunities as we for +astronomical observations is a little doubtful; but their +thermological studies must flourish abundantly, to say nothing of +their advantages in pyrotechnics. + + + +_A Text-Book of Vegetable and Animal Physiology, designed for the +Use of Schools, Seminaries, and Colleges in the United States_. By +HENRY GOADBY, M.D., Professor of Vegetable and Animal Physiology +and Entomology in the State Agricultural College of Michigan, Fellow +of the Linnaean Society of London, etc., etc. Embellished with +upwards of four hundred and fifty Illustrations. New York: D. +Appleton and Company, 346 and 348, Broadway. 1858. + +The name of Mr. Goadby is embalmed in a preservative solution +invented by him and known as Goadby's Fluid. Those who have visited +the Royal College of Surgeons in London tell us of very exquisite +anatomical preparations made by him while employed as Minute +Dissector to that institution. We are grateful to Mr. Goadby for +consecrating his narrow but sure immortality and his excellent +mechanical talent to the service of the New World and especially of +the State of Michigan. + +It does not follow from this that Mr. Goadby has written a good book +on Animal and Vegetable Physiology, nor that he could write such a +book. Starting with this proposition, we are candid rather than +sanguine as we open the volume. We find that it is not in any true +sense a treatise upon Physiology, but chiefly upon the Minute +Anatomy of Animals and Vegetables, with some incidental physiological +commentaries. + +On closer examination, we find it to be the work of a microscopist, +and not that of a physiologist or a scholar. Its merits are +principally its illustrations, many of which are from original +dissections, some of which are very good diagrams, others ordinary, +and some--such as the view of the human brain and spinal chord on +page 282--wretched. The colored figures are washed with dull tints +in a very shabby and negligent way. The text is mainly an account of +the objects illustrated in the figures, and will prove interesting to +the working microscopist as explaining the observations of a skilful +dissector. As a "Text-Book of Physiology for Schools and Colleges," +it is of course without value. + +English microscopists, if we might judge by this work and that of +Mr. Hassall, are not remarkable for scholarship. The showy and in +some respects valuable work of the latter gentleman was disgraced by +constant repetitions of gross blunders in spelling. Mr. Goadby is +not much above his countryman in literary acquirements, if we may +judge by his treatment of the names of Schwann and Lieberkuhn, whom +he repeatedly calls Schawn and Leiberkuhn, and by the indignity +which he offers to the itch-insect by naming it _Aearus Scabiaei_. It +is not necessary to give further examples; but, if the general +statement be disputed, we are prepared to speckle the book with +corrections until it looks like a sign-board with a charge of small +shot in it. + +Nothing that we have said must be considered as detracting from +Mr. Goadby's proper merits as an industrious and skilful specialist, +who is more able with his microscope than with his pen, and more at +home with the latter in telling us what he has seen than in writing +a general treatise on so vast a subject as Physiology. + + + +_Lettres de Silvio Pellico_, recueillies et mises en ordre, par +M. GUILLAUME STEFANI. Traduites et precedees d'une Introduction, par +M. ANTOINE DE LATOUR. Paris: 1857. pp. liii, 493. 8 vo. + +Silvio Pellico is one of the most touching ghosts that glide through +the chambers of the memory. Even the rod of the pedagogue and the +imprisonment of the school-room (for it has been the misfortune of +"Le mie Prigioni" to be doomed to serve as a "class-book" to +beginners in modern languages) have proved unable to diminish the +sympathy felt for the Spielberg prisoner. + +This volume will increase his pure fame. It will be read with +painful interest. It will do more for Italian independence +than all the ravings of revolutionary manifestoes and all the +poignard-strokes of political assassins which can be written or given +from now till doomsday. No one can read it without a swelling heart +and a tear-filled eye, for it discloses involuntarily and indirectly +the unspeakable unhappiness of Italy. Here are the sad accounts of +some loved friend or admired countryman snatched away to prison, or +hurried into exile, for a letter written, or a visit paid, or an +intemperate speech uttered; while no preparation is made for the +long departure, and papers, even the most familiar and prized, are +seized and never restored. Another page presents the exile's +struggles for daily bread, his privations, his longings for the +Italian sun and sky and soil, for the native land; another, the +earnest prayer from jail-walls for the Bible, for books upon our +Saviour's sufferings (nothing less than voices from heaven can +breathe comfort in Austrian dungeons!) Then the moving letters +written from one prisoner's family to another's (yesterday +unacquainted, to-day near kinsmen in the bonds of sorrow) to sustain +each other in the common afflictions, craving with avidity the least +intelligence from the living tombs of tyranny, sharing with generous +alacrity all their tidings. How musically endearing Italian +diminutives fall upon the ear employed in this office! Here we have +Pellico's own letters to his parents to calm their natural grief, +filled with pious concealment of his own mental and bodily torment, +with encouragements to hope an early pardon, and to turn their eyes +to Religion, which never yet refused consolation to the afflicted. +We have never read a more distressing letter than he wrote to his +family, when, at last pardoned, he was once more free. Seven years +had passed away since he heard from them; he knew not if one still +lived to welcome him home,--if his kindred had forgotten, or +execrated him as one who had dragged their common parents sorrowing +and gray-haired down to the grave. Has the world among all its +manifold sorrows any sorrow like unto this? + +The late M. de Lamennais was wont to speak with contempt of Silvio +Pellico, as being a weak, spiritless craven, who accepted with +resignation when he should have plotted to end the thraldom of his +country. Yet what can a man do, when the classes above him and those +below him, when noble and priest and peasant, live contented in the +silence of despotism, (calling it peace,) without one thought of +other days, without one sentiment of pride in the deeds of their +illustrious forefathers? What is a Christian's duty, when his country +is bled and plundered and ground down to the dust under the iron +heel of military despotism, when the political fabric of his native +land is crumbling, and his countrymen are listless, selfish, sensual, +unpatriotic, not unhappy so long as their bellies are filled and +their backs covered? Shall he lift his streaming eyes to heaven with +the resigned ejaculation, "Father, not my will, but thine, be done"? +--or shall he, in holy despair, throw his life away on Austrian +bayonets? Terrible problem! + + + +_The Household Book of Poetry_. Collected and edited by CHARLES A. +DANA. New York: D. Appleton & Co. 1858. pp. 798. + +This book contains extracts from upwards of three hundred authors of +all periods and countries. It is made more complete by the addition +of some of the most famous Latin hymns and canticles of the Church. +The different pieces are classified upon a judicious system. It is +handsomely printed, and not cumbrous in form. What can we say more +in its praise? Only this,--that, after giving it a pretty thorough +examination, we are satisfied that it is the best collection in the +language. Individual tastes and idiosyncrasies will, of course, find +some wants to lament, and some superfluities to condemn. A book +containing so much from living writers will excite jealousies; and +the writers themselves will, in some cases, be dissatisfied with the +selections made from their works. But what the general reader asks +is only, whether the compiler has shown skill in suiting the general +taste, as well as judgment in directing it. We think this collection +the most catholic and impartial we have ever seen. That is the +highest praise we can bestow, and it implies that the editor has +attained the success most difficult as well as essential in such an +undertaking. + + + +_Curiosities of Literature_. By ISAAC DISRAELI. 4 vols. Boston: +William Veazie. 1858. + +Possessing this book, Robinson Crusoe might have enjoyed all the +pleasures of what Dr. Johnson called "browsing in a library," and +that a large and choice one. It contains in itself all the elements +of a liberal education in out-of-the-way-ness. + +Everybody knows and likes this _Museum Absconditum_, as Sir Thomas +Browne would have called it,--and we take particular pleasure in +being able to recommend to our readers so beautiful an edition of it. +It is in all respects equal to the handsomest kind of English +printing, and has the added merit of being cheap. It is from the +press of Houghton & Company, which has done so much to raise the +standard of American printing. If Mr. Houghton go on as he has begun, +his name will deserve a place with those of Elzevir, Baskerville, +Foulis, and others of his craft, who have done good books the +justice of a mechanical that matches their intellectual workmanship. + + * * * * * + + +We have not space in this number to give Mr. White's Shakspeare the +welcome it deserves. We have examined it with some care, and can +speak with decision of its very great merits. It is characterized +by taste, industry, and conscientiousness. We believe it to be, +in all essential respects, the best--it is certainly the most +beautiful--edition of Shakspeare. This is also from the press of +Houghton & Company. + + * * * * * + + +We notice with pleasure among recent literary announcements those of +a History of France, by Parke Godwin, Esq., and of New England, by +Dr. J.G. Palfrey. Both are _desiderata_, and the reputation of the +authors is such as to warrant the highest anticipations. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Atlantic Monthly, Vol. II., November, +1858., No. XIII., by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATLANTIC MONTHLY *** + +***** This file should be named 10867.txt or 10867.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/8/6/10867/ + +Produced by Cornell University + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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